The sun kissed the horizon in fiery red-orange by the time Jax pulled into the place he called a “safe house.” I wanted to scoff at the term. I’d yet to find a place that inspired a sense of safety. Even my own fucking island hadn’t been safe. The engine fell silent, and I glanced over my shoulder at Alex’s dozing form. She’d curled on the bench seat, one hand pillowing her cheek, yet her muscles hadn’t given in to sleep yet. She was too rigid, too unrelaxed, and probably headed for another nightmare.
I sent a sideways glance at Jax. Dried blood lingered around his nose, and his right cheek was red from my fist. He had both hands locked on the steering wheel, eyes focused straight ahead. We hadn’t said two words since we’d left Perrone’s estate.
He claimed we were like brothers, and he had gotten us out, even if it was several days too late. Fuck, he shouldn’t have let them take us in the first place. I studied the profile of his face.
“You still don’t trust me,” he said.
“Kinda hard to.”
“Cleft was my cousin, my fucking blood, and I shot him.”
If he hadn’t done what he’d done, Alex and I wouldn’t be in this van with him. “Why’d you shoot him? I mean fuck. You didn’t even hesitate.”
He glanced at Alex in the rearview. “Let’s go inside. Take care of her first and get some rest. We’ve got time to deal with shit.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Maybe.” He let out a breath, and it drifted through his hair. “But I think we could all use some rest. We won’t have room for error when we go after my old man.”
“You got a plan?”
“Possibly. Actually,” he said, opening the driver’s side door, “you gave me an idea back there, when you wanted to go all Carrie on the old man’s estate.”
He never referred to him as his father or dad. Always old man. Considering what Perrone was capable of, I guess I didn’t blame him. I shoved my door open before sliding the back door to the side so I could reach Alex. She stirred but didn’t wake.
Wedging my arms underneath her body, I lifted and cradled her against my chest. She wound her arms around my neck, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep. The fact that she felt safe enough to let her guard down blew my mind.
She trusted me with her life. But was she wise in trusting me with her heart?
Fuck, I hoped so.
Jax climbed the steps to the front porch of the small house nestled deep in the woods. The nearest highway was at least twenty miles away. We’d come in on a county road, then a long dirt driveway that seemed to go on forever. I wasn’t sure I could find my way out of here, if I needed to, and that made me nervous. But at least it wouldn’t be easy for others to find us…unless this was a trap.
Knock it off.
They’d had us right where they wanted us. If not for Jax busting us out, we’d still be locked in that dark underground hole, practically buried alive. Fuck, it sure had felt like it. I shivered at the thought, my pulse racing upon remembering the blackness, the dripping faucet…wait. There hadn’t been a dripping faucet in that room. The pipes in the tunnel, yes, but not in that cell.
I hated this—the absence of memory. A piece of my identity was missing, hiding underneath the layers of my fucked up mind. Every now and again, a small nugget escaped and confused the heck out of me.
Jax handed me a key. “That’s your copy. The place is already stocked, and the money’s in the safe. Most of it is yours. I contributed what I could from working for your brother.”
I shook my head as he jammed his key into the lock and turned the handle. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“I know.”
Alex clutched my hair, and her warm breath breezed across my neck. “We here?” Her voice was heavy with sleep.
“Yeah, baby. We’re here.”
“I need a shower.”
I wasn’t surprised that was her first priority. She probably couldn’t wait to wash off the memories of that place from her skin. Jax pointed down the hall. “There’s two bedrooms, each has a bath. Yours is on the right.”
I cast a glance around the place. The living room was tiny with a futon and matching chair. The kitchen seemed even dinkier on the other side of the bar that separated the space from the living area.
“Does any of this look familiar?” he asked.
None of it sparked a thing.
“No, sorry.”
Why was I apologizing to him? He’d done so many fucked up things, yet at the very core of my being, I trusted him.
He headed toward the small kitchen, and I was tempted to follow, to demand he tell me what I wanted to know, but Alex needed me. She clung to my neck, as if loosening her grip would mean she’d crash to the floor and shatter.
I hesitated, indecision freezing my muscles. This was stupid. He’d busted us out. No one was coming to drag us back. We all just needed a little time to adjust.
Jax pulled a bottle of vodka down from a cupboard and parked his ass on a stool at the bar. He poured the clear liquid straight down his throat.
And that was that. He wanted to be alone with his bottle of misery.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I ventured down the hallway, pushing the door on the right open with my foot. The bedroom was surprisingly spacious, considering the size of the rest of the house. A large king-sized bed, four posters and all, dominated the room. My gut clenched. Instinctively, I knew why that bed was important. No matter where we ended up, I’d always need a place to restrain her.
It was ingrained in me.
I set Alex on her feet, and her quick intake of breath told me she understood the significance too. She stepped forward and let the hoodie slide from her shoulders, forgotten on the hardwood floor. I spotted an ajar door to the left.
“Bathroom is that way.” Placing a hand on the small of her bare back, I pushed her toward the one place she needed. The place where she could hide and let it all out, safe in the shower as the water washed away the last few days.
I searched the wall and switched on the soft light, thankful it wasn’t too bright. Our eyes had become accustomed to pitch-black. The sunlight today had been a glaring ball of pain in my eyes.
The bathroom ran long and narrow, and a large tub sat front and center. Alex backed into me, her breaths coming in quick gasps.
I wound my arms around her midsection and nudged her neck with my nose. “What is it?”
“I don’t take baths.”
“How come?”
She let out a half-laugh, half-snort. “I just don’t.”
I wanted to push for what she didn’t say, because I was sure she was keeping something to herself, but for now, I let it slide. This whole day was surreal, especially this moment as she stood naked in my arms, staring at a bathtub as if it would jump out and drown her.
And that’s when it hit me. Water.
I kept forgetting. I knew she couldn’t swim, and I remembered how fucking terrified she’d been when Zach had pushed her into the pool when she was younger, but I’d had no idea her fear extended to a simple tub of water.
Then again, she’d found her mother dead in a bathtub.
Maybe I had known all of this. Maybe I’d even used it against her. I’d definitely played on her fears by holding her captive on the island.
“You’re safe here. You don’t have to use the tub. There’s a shower over there.” I pointed around the corner, not sure how I knew, but I did.
We shuffled past the tub and turned, and sure enough, the nook opened into a shower stall. Alex crossed the threshold and turned on the water, but she didn’t step into the spray.
“Do you wanna be alone?” I didn’t want to leave her, but if she needed space, time on her own to process and let it out, I’d give it to her. Besides, I was itching to strangle answers from Jax. He needed to start talking, and people armed with booze tended to have loose lips.
“I don’t want you to go.” Her naked vulnerability gutted me.
Everyone coped with trauma in their own way—I knew that better than anyone. My psyche had chosen to block it from my mind. But shit, I wanted to be her rock, the one she clung to for support and safety. I wanted to puzzle over her pieces until I found where they fit.
Fuck, Jax could wait.
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
“I just need you.”