Chapter 17
ALEX
The faint sound of the bathroom door sliding shut clued me in to his presence. I closed my eyes and let the shower spray run down my face, washing away my tears, hoping it would drive away the filth corrupting every inch of my body and soul.
I hated him.
No…I wanted to hate him. But he was Rafe Mason, the one man capable of possessing me.
He could get away with murder, and I’d forgive it.
I circled myself in the shelter of my arms, attempting to create a fortress even he couldn’t bypass.
What a joke. I failed to crack from being used and beaten—instead, I crumbled when denied the privilege of getting off on it.
God that was messed up on so many levels.
“Are you okay?” Apology laced his words. Rafe the gentle protector was back, not to say I didn’t love Rafe the twisted asshat too.
Because I did.
I loved all of him, and maybe that’s why I was so upset.
He’d let Jax lay his hands on me. He’d made me cry, scream, and beg for the burn of ginger to just stop.
Instead of showing me mercy, he’d taken his pound of flesh before taunting me with the warm, thick evidence of his release all over my ass.
Maybe that’s what I was really pissed about—the throb between my legs that still imprisoned me.
“I took the stupid pills if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He entered the tiny space and wrapped his arms around me, his naked chest flush with my back. “I’m worried about you.” He captured my wrists in his hands, and I slowly unraveled in his embrace as the tension in my muscles melted away. He clung to me as if he’d never let go.
“Don’t be,” I said. “You got your message across. I won’t go against you again.”
He grabbed my chin and turned my face, bringing my gaze to his. “Are you upset over the ginger, Jax’s involvement, or that I didn’t let you come?”
I gritted my teeth, refusing to respond.
“Answer me, or I won’t answer your questions.”
I let out a shallow breath. I’d nearly forgotten. “I’m upset with myself.”
“Why?”
“Because you fucking hurt me, and I wanted to come!”
He slid his fingers down my throat and gripped my neck, holding me inside his gaze, victim to the cage of his body. Water drenched his hair, and God, he was the epitome of sexy. It was not fair.
“Ask your questions,” he said in that gruff tone that made my insides quiver.
I gave myself a firm mental shake because I knew what he was doing. He wanted to have this conversation while he had all the power. While he was a squeeze away from choking me. While I was the vulnerable one because opening up to me would strip him bare.
I swallowed under the weight of his control, finding my voice. “Why did you leave six months ago?”
His gaze faltered. “I should’ve known you’d start with that.”
Well, duh. I bit my tongue to keep from saying it out loud.
“I killed Perrone,” he said, his strangled admission nearly drowned out by the spray of the shower. He drew in a quick breath. “I snapped, Alex. I stabbed him with his own fucking pen, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to squeeze his damn head off.” He fell silent for a while.
“You’re still not telling me why you left,” I said after the seconds stretched into a full minute.
“I got my memory back.”
“Rafe,” I whispered, freeing my hand from his. I slid my palm along the side of his face. “You could have told me.” Drops of water hung from his thick lashes, bringing out the vulnerability in his eyes. It was hard to believe this was the same guy who’d blasted my ass not more than a half hour ago.
“I remembered every disgusting thing I’d done to you.” Shuttering his eyes, he leaned into my palm and let out a broken sigh. “And even with that bastard’s blood on my hands, his fucking house in flames, I just wanted to lose myself in you, but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t trust myself. Those eight years flooded in, and it was just…”
“Too much?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t thinking.”
He’d gone into run mode. I could relate because that’s what I’d done yesterday. The only difference was I’d gotten punished for it. But something told me he’d been punishing himself since the day he’d taken off. He’d stayed away because the guy hiding behind his memory loss had terrified him.
“Next question,” he said, clearly wanting to shut down this particular thread.
I wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Tell me what happened in prison.”
His body went rigid, and he glared at me. “No.”
“You promised me the truth.”
He slid his hand down my belly and brushed his fingers over my throbbing clit. “How about I take care of this instead?”
“How about you stop using sex to get your way? After everything we’ve been through, I deserve your honesty, don’t you think?”
Abruptly, he let me go. “Why are you doing this?” He slid to the cool tile, holding his head in his hands. Without hesitation, I sank to my knees in front of him, though I sensed his need for space, so I didn’t touch him, despite the cramped stall making not touching him difficult.
“Because I love you. I want you to unload on me.” Because I was the reason he’d gone through hell in that place.
He dragged his hands through his hair and shot me a hard look. “Should I demand you tell me what Zach did to you? Make you recount all the fucking details? Make you relive it?”
“You’re deflecting.”
“So what if I am? Some things should stay in the past. This is one of those things, Alex.”
“Not if it’s putting walls between us.” I trailed my fingers across my throat. “Not if it’s giving you nightmares.”
“You’re scared of me.” His gaze followed the path of my fingers, a reminder of how he’d choked me in his sleep. “I might push you, sweetheart, but I never want you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not.” I let my hand drop. Even his subconscious would pull through to protect me because that’s who he was. He’d attacked me in his sleep, but he’d stopped. “I startled you during that nightmare.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grabbed your shoulder. That’s when you came at me.”
“I can’t…” He shook his head. “Babe, I managed to sleep next to you at your house last night without a problem, but I can’t risk that happening again.”
“It won’t. You don’t have it in you to really hurt me, Rafe. Besides,” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “I know better now. I’ll turn on a light or something next time.”
“There can’t be a next time.” He pushed to his feet in a single, fluid move and pulled me up. “Let’s continue this conversation later. You can ask your last question then.”
I frowned. “I still have two left. You never answered the second one, so it doesn’t count.”
“In my book, it does. I answered you, honestly, and I honestly think we don’t need to go there, ever.”
“Forget the stupid questions.” Trying not to glower at him, I retreated and bumped into the side of the stall. “Why can’t you just talk to me? Is it that hard to have a conversation like a normal couple?”
“We’re not normal.”
“No, but maybe we should sprinkle a little normal on this…whatever this is.”
He shut the water off with an angry downward strike of his hand. “Don’t try to change me into something I’m not.” His eyes raked over my erect nipples and the water dripping off of them. “We are who we are.”
“I want more. I need more from you!”
Biting back a frustrated growl, he wrenched me by the arm and pulled me from the bathroom, into the bedroom, and bent me over the bed again.
A piece of me died right there. My ass was already raw from the last punishment.
How much more did he need to dole out? How much more did he think I could take?
Blinking silent tears down my cheeks, I closed my eyes to the sound of a drawer sliding open and slamming shut. His footfalls thundered across the room, and at the first touch of his hand on my bottom, I tensed, my misery and fear and anger tearing from my lips, unbidden.
But…
What the hell?
“Relax,” he said, voice soft, almost tender, and it tore my heart out just to set it in place again. “Even animals can be tamed.” He rubbed something into my skin that soothed my burning welts.
My legs trembled violently, and I cried in earnest, this time out of pure relief.
More tears escaped, but not because I was sad, hurt or even scared.
His touch reassured me that the man I’d fallen even more in love with while trapped in that tunnel still existed.
The man who’d take care of me. Protect me. Love me.
“Do you hate me for what I did earlier?” Uncertainty tinged his voice, and it was so fucking surreal, this constant battle he seemed to be in with himself.
I chewed on my lip for a few moments, deliberating on how truthful I should be. Giving him my honesty would mean he’d only push harder in the future. Did I want that?
Maybe I did.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do that will make me hate you.”
He pulled me up by the shoulders, apparently satisfied that my ass was taken care of.
“I know you want more from me, babe. I wanna give you more. I wanna give you fucking everything.” He stalked to the dresser, his steps taking on the weight of importance, urgency.
He pulled out two sets of clothing—one for him and one for me.
“There’s something I need to do before this fight, and I want you there with me for it.”