8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
EMMA EASTON
I blink slowly, trying to figure out why something feels off in my dark room.
Goosebumps break out over my arms, and I stop breathing.
Then, something shifts beside me. A warm body.
I go rigid, every nerve snapping awake as the blanket moves.
Someone is sitting next to me. My hand twitches, instinct pulling me toward defense, toward distance—
“Hey.” Rafe’s voice is soft.
I freeze. “Rafe?” My voice comes out heavy with sleep. “What…what are you doing in my bed?”
“You’re a great kisser, love,” he whispers. “But that’s not why I’m here."
“I, wha—”
“Listen,” he interrupts. Something in his tone sets me alert immediately. I don’t move at first. I just listen, straining in the dark, and that’s when I hear a voice. It’s faint and distorted, coming through something in Rafe’s hand. The glow of a phone screen barely touches his sharp features.
I sit up fast, my hand landing on his shoulder to steady the sleepiness. “What is that?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer right away. He just adjusts the phone, letting the sound reach me more clearly. He hits “unmute” and presses a finger to his lips to keep me quiet. Then a voice cuts through.
“It's just a shame we couldn’t be speaking face to face right now, Vaughan. Return what belongs to me.” His tone doesn’t rise, but my hair still stands on the back of my neck. “Or I will release everything. It’s that fucking simple. He’s mine.”
Nausea surges inside me, but Rafe doesn’t move, interrupt, or even react.
Alexei continues. “You have nothing to offer me. But, if you don’t return him and I have to come after you…” A slight shift in his tone. “There are people who would very much enjoy the company of your women.”
My breath catches.
“Vlad, especially. You know him, don’t you?”
Rafe’s jaw clenches. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“He had plans to visit Waylon, you know. To fuck your wife.”
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.
“Don’t you dare mention my wife,” Rafe says flatly. “You know what I do to men who threaten her.”
“I’d be careful how far you push this. Because I want a turn with every one of them girls. Especially Sinclair. I bet she’s a wild ride.”
Rafe, with a control that’s astounding me, leans in. “You’re assuming we don’t have anything to push back with, Morozov.”
Alexei doesn’t respond immediately. That pause alone feels like pressure building behind a locked door. I rub my eyes, wide awake now.
Rafe continues, unfazed. “You release anything on him…” he pauses.
“And we return the favor.” There’s no threat in his tone.
Just fact. “Every piece we have. Every name. Suddenly, this isn’t a controlled situation anymore.
It becomes mutual destruction.” His voice softens, almost mockingly.
“You don’t survive that, Morozov. We have cards in our hand, too.
The question is…are you willing to chance that our hand is better than yours? ”
There’s silence on the other end for a beat. Then, Alexei sighs. “Whatever you have on me cannot possibly be as bad as what I have on Jude. He’s fucked. His fate is prison or death if it isn’t by my side. You of all people should know that.”
Rafe glances at me, the corner of his lip pulling up in a smirk. Because there’s an edge in Alexei’s voice now.
“We can make it a public spectacle, if you prefer,” Alexei continues. But before he can add anything else, Rafe interrupts him.
“We go down, so do you, asshole. You’re not getting him back.”
Alexei laughs now, and the sound pisses me off. “Oh, good luck. He’ll die before he comes back to you. I fucked his head up good.”
My stomach clenches.
“And that girl? He’ll kill her. Then, after he realizes what he’s done, he’ll kill himself.”
Rafe allows a second of silence before he quietly hangs up his phone, leaving us sitting together in the dark.
I stare at him, my pulse still pounding. The moon’s soft light is just enough to make out his face. “Can he track your phone?” It’s the first thing I can think to say after just being threatened with getting sold to a known human fucking trafficker.
He shakes his head once. “No.”
“Why not?”
“All of the technology in the house is protected,” he says. “Adela made sure of that. Sinclair Solutions is running constant security protocols. Nothing in here can be accessed externally.”
My fingers curl into the blanket as I exhale shakily. “So he just…called you?”
“Yes.” He shifts, and I feel his attention turning toward me. His hand lifts slowly, giving me time to pull away if I want to.
I don’t.
His warm fingers brush my cheek. “You’re okay,” he says quietly. Such loving energy coming from a monster catches me off guard.
I swallow. “I don’t feel okay, Rafe.”
“I know,” he murmurs.
“There’s nothing stopping him from releasing everything.”
He tilts his head. “He at least knows that we have something on him, too. Even if, at the moment, our weapon isn’t loaded. At least we still have it.”
My stomach hurts. “What if he calls your bluff?” I ask.
“He might,” he replies. “If that did happen, then I don’t really have a comforting answer for you.”
“Okay.”
Rafe studies me for a moment longer, then he exhales. “I need to take care of something.”
“Okay,” say again. Because I don’t know what else to say right now.
There’s a pause, then the bed shifts as he stands, the warmth beside me disappearing. “Emma,” he says softly, pausing at the door.
I look toward him, barely able to make out his shape in the dark.
“Try to sleep. We need your mind at its sharpest.”
“I’ll try.”
He doesn’t respond. Just opens the door and slips out into the hallway, closing it gently behind him.
And then it’s just me, alone in the dark.
My fingers curl into the blanket as I stare up at the ceiling.
My eyes burn, but no tears fall this time.
I think I’ve finally run out, at least for now.
All that’s left is this hollow, aching space that I don’t really know what to do with.
I swallow, shifting onto my side, pulling the blanket up to my chin.
And I can’t help when my mind drifts. Back to a time when everything felt simple, with a version of him that I don’t think I’ll ever get back. I really thought I knew what my future looked like.
~ A memory ~
The air smells like salt and smoke. Fireworks crackle somewhere above us, bright bursts of color lighting up the night sky in flashes of red and gold and white. The sound echoes over the water, mixing with music and laughter from people celebrating all around us.
I’m barefoot in the sand, slightly unsteady, my head light and hazy with alcohol.
Heather is in front of me, already giggling and dancing. Her arms are in the air, her hair wild around her shoulders as she spins, grabbing my hands and pulling me with her. “Come on!” she shouts over the music.
“I am!” I reply, stumbling into her as we both try to move to the same beat and completely fail.
We’re a mess. A loud, ridiculous, happy mess.
I throw my head back, laughing as another firework explodes overhead, the light catching everything in brief, glowing flashes. People are scattered along the shoreline, some dancing, some shouting, some already running toward the water.
It’s perfect chaos tonight.
And then strong, familiar hands wrap around my waist from behind, and I barely have time to react before I’m lifted right off the ground with a surprised yelp.
“Jude!” I yell, instinctively grabbing onto him as he throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
“Let’s go, girlie,” he says, his voice bright with the same drunken energy.
“Where are we going?” I’m laughing so hard now that I can barely get the words out, my hands braced against his back as he takes off toward the water.
“Close your eyes.”
“No, no, that’s not reassuring!”
He smirks and charges straight into the ocean with me still thrown over his shoulder, the cold water crashing around his legs as I shriek.
“Jude! Whatta ‘bout the ssharks?” I ask, slurring my words. “I’m also wearing a dress.”
“Relax. There’s like fifty people swimming around us.” He finally sets me down as the water rises around us, pulling me close.
I gasp, snatching onto his warmth from the cold Pacific water. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah,” he says easily, grinning down at me like he simply doesn’t care.
The water moves around us in slow, steady waves, people splashing and shouting nearby, music still carrying from the shore.
Fireworks explode overhead again, casting light across his face in quick, flickering bursts.
And for a second, I just look up at him.
His hair is already damp, falling into his eyes.
His skin glows under the shifting light, his smile the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. In this life, and every other life.
“What?” he asks, noticing the way I’m staring.
“Nothing,” I say, even though it’s not true. Before I can say anything else, his hands slide over my waist and pull me into a passionate kiss.
I gasp softly against his mouth, my nails digging into his shoulders as I lean into him, the world around us blurring into nothing but us and the distant crack of fireworks. My arms wrap around his neck while I kiss him back just as hard. His skin is still warm from being in the sun all day.
“Emma!” Heather’s voice cuts through our little moment from the shore. She is already halfway down the beach with Ben, dragging him toward a bigger cluster of people further down.
“Don’t have sex in the ocean!” she shouts. “It’s not good for you.”
I laugh against Jude’s mouth, pulling back just enough to glance over my shoulder. “She’s unbelievable.”
“She’s not wrong,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, a little rougher.
My stomach flips.
He studies my face for a second, like he’s savoring every detail of it. Then, without a word, he lifts me again.