11. Man Talk - Rafe
“Who’s the girl?”
Instead of answering, Jax headed toward the kitchen. “I’m so hungry I could chew off my arm. Whatcha fixing?”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that the bathtub session with Alex had interrupted breakfast. It was now past lunchtime. “Omelets. Finish chopping the veggies while you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
He took over Alex’s post while I added additional eggs for Jax and his mystery woman. “It’s been a while since we talked,” he said, expertly handling the knife.
“Sorry. We didn’t have cell service at camp.”
“I know.”
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
Something was on his mind. Jax was too candid to keep quiet for long, so with a flip of the switch on the stove burner, I decided to wait him out.
“Why the detour?” he said, and I didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. Considering we were only weeks away from finishing work on the island, he probably wanted to know why were bunking down in a safe house instead of at my brother’s vineyard.
“Alex is still dealing with everything that went down last year. She’s scared I’m going to leave her.”
Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he raised a brow. “And you think bringing her back here is going to magically fix everything?”
“Fuck no.” There was no magic fix for what Alex was going through. I knew it because I’d been there…was still there. “But it’s a start. I’m taking it one day at a time.”
“That’s all you can do.”
“Jax, who’s the girl?”
He paused before slicing an onion in half. “I found her in Mexico.”
“When did you go back?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“You got a new lead?”
“Yeah.”
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
“And?” I prompted.
He laid down the knife. “My sister is dead.”
His statement came down on me hard, like the hammer of a gavel. Everything he’d done had been for his sister. The whole reason he’d allowed his son-of-a-bitch father to throw Alex and me into that tunnel was so he could buy enough time to find info on her whereabouts. I felt bad for him, but I couldn’t deny the bitterness that dug under my skin, refusing to be displaced. We’d all gone through so much hell, and all for a fucking ghost.
“You sure she’s…gone?”
“Dental records confirmed it.”
“I’m sorry, Jax.” And I was, despite the quiet anger taking hold of me.
Anger at Jax.
Anger at the De Lucas.
Anger at Fate.
I was ready to flip Fate the finger.
“Me too,” Jax said. “More than I can say.”
And just like that, we understood each other. The past couldn’t ever be changed. We’d lived it, survived it, bled for it. And we were still standing.
“Is she a victim of sex trafficking?” I nodded toward the bedrooms.
“Yeah.” Anguish corroded his tone. “I couldn’t fucking leave her there, so I broke her out. Almost got wasted over it.” There was no mistaking the horror and pain in his voice—a dark, gruff sound that strangled his vocal cords.
He’d seen things in his lifetime, possibly more than I had.
“You were smart to bring her here. She obviously needs help, and Alex could use a friend. Plus, she’s had some experience with victims.”
“Right,” he said with a nod. “Her stint at Sanctuary.”
Back when I was “dead.” Maybe reminding Alex of that time wasn’t such a good idea even if it would help someone else. But damn, if anyone could relate to a victim of sexual slavery, it was Alex.
My previous memory-loss-self would point out how Alex was still a victim, this time by my own hand. And that man would probably back down, set her free. Break her heart all over again for her own good. But the man standing in this kitchen, talking about such horrors as if they were the norm, accepted that she was born to be owned.
She was fucking mine.
Right or wrong, I’d do with her as I saw fit.
And right or wrong, she’d get off on it.
Like this morning. After shoving her under water and scaring the ever-loving fuck out of her, she’d still been desperate to fuck me into next Sunday. And I’d let her. Not only let her, but submitted to it because I hadn’t had a choice. The little vixen had me wrapped, and I wasn’t sure she realized it.
Or maybe she did.
A door in the hallway opened, followed by the soft pad of Alex’s footsteps. I recognized them before I saw her enter the living room. The look on her face gave me pause.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s…” Alex tilted her head toward the bedroom. “She’s on the floor, naked.”
Jax cursed under his breath. “I’ll take care of it.” He left the kitchen, and I followed, instructing Alex to keep watch over the food on the stovetop. She wanted to argue with me, but one hard look sent her into motion.
Jax pushed the door to his bedroom open, and I averted my eyes to the naked girl kneeling on the floor.
“Get up.” He strode to her, and from my periphery, I saw her jump to her feet.
“Yes, Master.”
“I’m not your goddamn master. We’ve talked about this.”
She flinched at his harsh tone. I entered the room, no longer caring about giving her privacy, and settled a hand on Jax’s shoulder.
“Let me bring Alex back in. Maybe she can talk to her.”
Jax was too frustrated to get through to Angel. The girl was obviously suffering some unspeakable torment. If it were Alex experiencing a mental break, I’d know how to handle her.
But this girl was a total stranger.
For the first time since Jax arrived with his tagalong in tow, I wondered if he were in over his head.
“Yeah,” he finally said, letting out a breath. “Maybe they can go for a walk or something after lunch.”
I didn’t like that idea, but deep down I knew I couldn’t keep Alex within sight for the rest of our lives. Eventually, she would need some freedom. And I’d have to find a way to give it to her without having a panic attack at the thought of all the fucking things that could happen to her.
This cabin was a transitional phase for both of us. A more permanent place than the cities we’d hopped through for the last few months, and not as remote as where we’d settled in to camp, just the two of us.
It was also closer to home.
Home was a scary fucking place.
Home was too damn close to her father.
The thought of letting her go into town for work or school or whatever she might want to do after we got our lives back threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. Sweat bathed my palms, and I had to concentrate hard to slow my breathing.
Alex would have zero fucking freedom until I knew for certain that her father posed no danger. And as for Zach…he was still a festering question mark. Jax and I had more than his stowaway to discuss.
The stowaway in question lowered to her knees again. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mast—” She cut off, swallowing hard. “Sorry.”
Before Jax could reply, I grabbed him by the shoulder and ushered him from the room. “Have you considered taking her somewhere to get help?”
“Of course I have. She has no memory, so I can’t contact family, and when I mentioned getting the law involved to help her find out who she is, she went fucking crazy on me. Total hysteria, man. She sees me as her fucking savior or something.”
“She seems scared of you.”
“She is, but I’m tame compared to the sick fuck who had her before. I can’t figure out why, but she seems to trust me.”
“Do you know how long they had her for?”
“No, but based on the way she acts, it was long enough to wipe out her identity.” Jax’s face fell. “She reminds me of the old man’s favorite slaves. He spent a lot of time on them, if you know what I mean.”
The thought made me sick.
I peeked at Alex, who stood at the stove with her back to Jax and me. She pretended not to listen, but I was positive she’d heard every word. And part of me wondered if she compared herself to the girl in Jax’s bedroom.
Did she see what I did?
Alex hadn’t chosen this, but she’d submitted. She loved the fuck out of me, but there’s that saying that a duck is still a duck. Our relationship was fucked, and no matter how we dressed it up, she’d always be a victim.
My victim.
For her sake, I had to do better by her.
“Babe, c’mere.”
“Just a sec,” she said, transferring an odd-shaped omelet onto a plate. As she made her way across the room, I couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t cook worth a damn, but not for lack of trying.
“Think you can go in there and talk to her?”
“I can try.”
“That’s my girl.” Then I kissed her because she deserved a thousand fucking kisses every day for putting up with me.