12. Kindred Spirits - Alex
She liked to tilt her face back and close her eyes. Angel didn’t say much, but she didn’t have to.
I knew she was soaking up the sunlight.
We’d been walking for about ten minutes in silence. Rafe made me carry my phone, location services enabled, so he could find me. It hadn’t been a request, but it wasn’t done entirely out of possessiveness either.
“Is he your Master?”
I jumped, her voice startling me after so much companionable quiet.
“Um, no. He’s my…my fiancé.”
God, how I loved saying that. How I hoped it were true.
“Oh.”
Oh?
I’d only known her for a couple of hours, but I was finding that she was a woman of few words. She hadn’t said anything during lunch beyond please and thank you.
“We do have a…I guess you could call it a different type of relationship. It works for us.”
She glanced at me with interest. “How is it different?”
I wavered, unsure of how much to tell her. On one hand, having someone to talk to who might understand some of what she’d been through could be comforting. On the other hand…
I didn’t want to scare the shit out of her with all the gory details.
The rush of water drew my attention, and I realized we’d reached a creek. Instead of my phobia sending me into a panicked flight mode, like it would have done last year, I gestured for her to sit cross-legged next to me on the embankment. A quick glance at my phone ensured I still had service.
Rafe had promised an ass stuffed with ginger if I went out of bounds. When it came to my safety, he wouldn’t hold back.
And that right there was exactly what I didn’t know how to explain to Angel.
But her expectant face demanded an answer.
“Well, Rafe is in charge.”
“So he’s your Master?”
“What do you mean by master, Angel?”
“You know,” she said, her brows narrowing over blue eyes full of confusion, “the man who owns you.”
Something about her was almost child-like, as if she’d experienced the world through lenses different from the rest of us.
“How old are you?” I asked, guessing she wasn’t a day past eighteen.
“Master said I don’t have an age.”
“And you don’t remember your name?”
Again, she drew her brows together, deep in thought. “Master called me Pet.” She chewed on her lip. “He’s going to be angry with me.”
“How come?”
“For letting New Master give me a name.”
I shook my head, sorrow clogging my throat for a few seconds. “You’re free now, Angel. Whoever hurt you before isn’t going to do it again.”
“You don’t understand,” she said, her lips pinching in distress. “I tried leaving Master once before, but he found me.” Long, dark lashes fluttered over her pale skin, and a tear trickled free. “I don’t want to go back. If New Master will claim me, I won’t have to.” Her expression practically pleaded with me. “New Master is kind.”
“His name is Jax.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “Men are always called Masters.”
“No. Men are men, and women are women.” A weight dropped to the bottom of my gut, souring my stomach. Angel’s limited vocabulary and conversation skills told me the sicko who’d held her captive did so for a very long time, probably since she was a young child.
The thought that she could have been born into that world…
I was so sickened by the possibility that acid rose in my throat, and for a few nerve-wracking seconds, I thought I might puke.
“Listen to me,” I said, grabbing her hands, ignoring her automatic flinch. She didn’t like to be touched. “There are no masters.” Not unless one got into kink, but that was too far out of her understanding right now.
“Th-there’s not?”
“No. People have names. I’m Alex. Rafe is Rafe. And you know Jax’s name already.” I paused, expecting her to protest, but she didn’t. “Say his name, Angel.”
“J-Jax.” Her gaze wandered, first left then right, as if she expected to be struck down for calling a man by any other name than Master.
“Say it again.”
“Jax.”
“See? No one is going to hurt you for using his name.”
“He did.”
I clenched my hands, already envisioning my fists pounding on Jax. Granted, our history was a rocky one, and he’d certainly put his hands on me in the past per Rafe’s instruction, but I didn’t think he’d sink so low as to hurt someone as fragile as Angel.
I wanted to fucking kill him.
“How did Jax hurt you?”
“Not Jax. Master.”
I gulped, the urge to vomit returning. Instead of speaking, I gave her hand a quick squeeze, hoping she wouldn’t shrink back from the contact this time, and silently encouraged her to open up about her past, no matter how horrific.
She seemed to deliberate for a moment before parting her lips. “I can talk to you?”
“You can always talk to me.”
“Master beat me. Sometimes, he wouldn’t feed me for days. Other times, he locked me in a dog kennel for…I’m not really sure how long.” Her voice cracked, and she implored me with her blue eyes. “I can’t go back to that. If Jax will be my Master—”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I interrupted. “You don’t need a master. Jax just wants to help you. So do I.”
We locked gazes for several moments, until a bird squawked, and Angel jumped. I watched her retreat into herself again, helpless to stop it.
No more eye contact or conversation for us. It appeared the heart-to-heart was over. I got to my feet. “We should probably head back.”
She merely nodded, her movement fluid and graceful as she rose to stand, almost as if she had the body of a dancer. I wanted to ask if she’d ever danced, but I kept the question—and many more—to myself. Maybe over time, she’d come to trust me. Maybe we could even be friends.
We were halfway to the cabin when I realized how much I missed having a real friend. In school, I’d had a few people I called friends, though they were more like acquaintances. Keeping the kind of secrets I’d held on to for so many years made it difficult to form bonds.
The secrets I’d kept made it difficult to trust.
Rafe was my best friend. He was my everything, and on most days, that was enough.
But today brought that gaping hole of a social life to the forefront. How crazy that a simple walk with another woman had the power to change how I viewed my life.
I missed this.
The simple act of hanging out and chatting. Even a heavy conversation like the one I’d shared with Angel was better than no conversation at all.
Every so often, I shot her a sideways glance, hoping she’d throw a socially starved girl a bone. Seemed she’d shared all the bones she had for the day.
Patience, I reminded myself. She’d come around. Healing took time.
We approached the cabin, and the front door stood open, the screen shut to keep the flies out. Just as I lifted a foot to climb the first step of the porch, Rafe’s voice slammed my feet to a halt.
“I don’t want Alex to know about this just yet.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Jax said, and I motioned for Angel to stay silent, index finger pressed to my lips. “So what are you gonna do?”
Rafe didn’t answer right away. “Get married. The wedding should be enough to keep her occupied.” Any hope I’d had that he wanted to marry me sank to the bottom of my gut.
“But what if she does find out? Dontcha think we should have a backup plan?”
“The shackle in the bedroom is my backup. If she flips out that’ll keep her out of trouble.”
My breath hitched, and I planted a hand on the railing to steady me.
“I don’t know,” Jax said. “Better to take the offensive, if you ask me.” Footsteps landed on the floor inside the cabin, indicating movement. “You guys can hide out here indefinitely, but a wedding, even on the down-low, will attract attention for sure.”
“By attention, you mean her father.”
“And her brother.”
A pause, during which my heart pounded too hard.
“Shit always goes south. I think you should tell her, man.”
Rafe sighed. “I hear you, but until we have some fucking concrete answers, she doesn’t need to know her father is out.”
Hell no.
I catapulted the steps and flung the screen door open, my sudden movement startling Angel, and stormed into the living room. “My dad is out of prison?”
Rafe took one look at me and cursed under his breath. He rose from where he sat with his elbows on his knees, and I backed up, too angry with his high-handedness to be near him right now. He knew what this meant to me. I’d wanted to visit my dad in prison, but Rafe had said no, claiming that coming out of hiding wasn’t a good idea. But now Rafe and I were about to return to the land of civilization and get married. Now I could confront my dad with the burning question I couldn’t get out of my soul.
What really happened to my mom?
Rafe reached for me, but I held up a hand. If he tried touching me, I might throw something at his head again.
“Tell me the truth. Is he out?”
“Yes, but this doesn’t mean you need to worry.”
“I don’t need to worry?” I raised my brows, same as my tone. “We’re talking about the man who killed my mom.”
“According to Zach.”
“Yes, according to Zach, who will no doubt be back now that Dad is free. How can you tell me not to worry?”
Rafe exchanged a look with Jax as if to say this is why I didn’t want her to know.
“Don’t you dare exclude me from this! I’m not a fucking child. You said it yourself—I’m unbreakable. Remember? Well put your money where your mouth is.” I prodded his chest with a finger. “You punish the fuck out of me for hiding the smallest stuff, but you do it all the damn time. I’m sick of it!”
The instant a twitch went off in his jaw, I knew I’d gone too far. He circled my wrist in the vise of his fingers. “Excuse us,” he said, throwing a glance in Jax’s direction as he dragged me toward the hallway. “Time for the backup plan.”