30. Mate - Alex
Dawn’s early rays tickled my cheek. Peeking through my gritty lids, I took in the cloudless sky through the skylights above the bed. As I stretched the night away, I reached for Rafe, but his side was empty. I sat up, and sudden nausea sent me sprinting to the bathroom. Pulling my hair back, I lifted the lid and heaved into the toilet bowl.
God, I hoped Rafe didn’t hear me barfing. I had to tell him, but the morning after our wedding wasn’t the time to do it. I wanted to relish this day, stow every memory away so I could take it out again and again to relive during hard times.
Our first day as husband and wife.
Besides…telling him meant the fight of my life, because I wasn’t getting rid of his baby, and I knew he’d want me to. I understood his reasoning. Part of me even agreed with his thoughts on bringing children into our crazy life. It was the whole reason he’d left his son alone, choosing to give the boy a stable life, because ours had proved too dangerous.
But I could no sooner abort his child than I could stop loving him. I was split down the middle on what to do. If I could keep the pregnancy from him until I reached the second trimester, then he’d have no choice but to accept my choice. But not telling him felt fucking wrong.
I wanted this, but I wanted him to want it too.
Finally spent and stomach empty, I pushed to my feet then washed up and brushed my teeth. My hair was a disheveled mess, but the tangled curls cascading down my back made me feel sexy.
Rafe liked my hair wild and free, so I left it as-is and exited the bathroom to find the bedroom awash in a golden hue from the rising sun beaming through the double skylights. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the cabin last night, but now the sight of our bedroom left me in awe…and a little apprehensive.
The bed was a king, four sturdy bed posts reaching toward the ceiling. Underneath the frame, I spotted a system of chains and tethers. A closer look at the headboard revealed built-in stockades. I moved toward an ornate wooden dresser, and when I reached for the handle, the diamonds in my wedding band sparkled in the sunlight, surrounding the brilliant jade stone. I wiggled my fingers, admiring the way the ring shimmered before trying to pull a drawer open. The thing wouldn’t budge, and neither would any of the other drawers.
The armoire was also locked.
Rafe had locked away every piece of clothing I owned, along with God-knew-what-else inside those heavy pieces of furniture.
With a growl, I thought about the key he wore around his neck. What a way to taunt me, with that key in sight but never fully in reach.
On the bright side, he hadn’t chained me to the bed, so I assumed he wanted me to greet him downstairs, buck ass naked. As I approached the door, I spotted my wedding gown where we’d left it on the floor last night, too desperate to make it to the bed to care where it landed. I folded it, smoothing my palm over satin and lace, and placed it on top of the dresser.
As I ventured down the steps that would take me from the loft to the first floor, I couldn’t express how thankful I was that Jax and Angel were giving us some space. It didn’t matter how many times I’d been naked in front of others—I wasn’t comfortable with it and probably never would be.
I reached the bottom and halted, my mouth gaping at the open space. Windows that spanned floor-to-ceiling faced the Oregon side of the Columbia River, and deep green suede furniture sat grouped together, facing the view.
This was the place where Jax had paddled me last night, but it seemed so different in the daylight. A fireplace sat tucked in the corner of the room, and above the mantel sat an oversized wedding photo of Rafe and me.
Jax must have had it made last night after the reception. My gaze landed on the white paddle hanging next to the fireplace, and I figured my guess was spot on.
“Rafe?”
God, I couldn’t wait to see him. To kiss him good morning and call him my husband. I’d give us this one day before I upended our lives with the news of my pregnancy. As tempting as it was to try to hide it from him, I knew I wouldn’t be able to. My period would come due any day, and he was bound to notice its absence this time.
The opening of a door came from where I guessed was the direction of the kitchen, and I couldn’t stop the smile that took hold of my face.
How was it possible to feel this fucking happy?
“Good morning, Husband,” I said, entering the kitchen.
He was bent, his dark head obscured by the refrigerator door. A chill slithered down my spine. I backed up, my instincts kicking in even before he stood, closed the fridge, and faced me with his too-familiar grin.
A grin that didn’t belong to Rafe.
No.
I thought I’d spoken aloud, but I couldn’t have, because my lips refused to form words. My vocal cords wouldn’t melt from their frozen state.
“Long time, no see.” Zach lowered his gaze in small degrees, every second a stolen moment as he ate up the sight of my nudity. His eyes stalled on my belly and Rafe’s name tattooed there, and dread coiled around my neck like a snake.
His hazel eyes darkened.
“Rafe!” I screamed, jolting into motion all at once. I whirled and sprinted back the way I’d come, frantically searching for the one man who swore to always protect me.
But he was no where to be found.
It was just me and Zach and his arms coming around me from behind, trapping me against his broad chest as I kicked my feet. His lips hovered at my ear, and above the panicked throb of my pulse, I heard Zach’s voice.
Low.
Steady and determined and speaking the cold, hard truth.
“Rafe is alive. If you calm down, he’ll stay that way.”
“Where is he? What did you do to him?” My voice was not my own—it was much too panicked. Too on the verge of hysteria.
Zach growled. “I don’t want to hear about him anymore. It’s just you and me now, Lex. Do you understand me?”
I didn’t answer, and he shook me, his fingers unforgiving on my biceps. “I understand.” My mouth spoke the words he wanted to hear, but my mind was blazing ahead, studying every angle, searching the house for an escape route.
Windows in front of me and to the left. The front door behind me, also to the left…if I remembered correctly. Rafe hadn’t just had the cabin rebuilt—he’d gone for a full remodel. A new beginning.
My head swam with disorientation, and I gulped in air, fighting to fill my lungs as reality cinched around my neck. The island was in complete solitude.
Except for Jax.
Hope bloomed inside me until I remembered he and Angel wouldn’t be back for days.
I was on my own.
Panic threatened to take me hostage again, but I had to keep my head. I refused to let Zach unhinge me this time. I wasn’t the girl he remembered—the weak, scared, pathetic plaything he could easily bend.
Only one man could bend me, and this fucker had taken him from me.
Again.
I snuck a peek at Zach from the corner of my eye, expecting to fight the usual feelings of shame that always accompanied his presence. The sense that he was my brother, so I owed him something, because he was family.
All of that was gone. I’d found my real family, and I’d fight to get him back.
Even if the fight ended with Zach dead.
“You won’t get away with this.” Cliché or not, I meant it to the bottom of my soul.
He whirled me around to face him, and like an idiot, he let go of my arms. “I already have. Rafe left here last night willingly.”
“You’re a fucking liar,” I seethed.
“Okay, so he might have been coerced a little.”
Oh God.
That look on his face; the smug tilt of his mouth, the narrow shape of his cold, hazel eyes, the severity of his dark brows. His features were bathed in pure triumph. Undiluted evil. I wanted to shield my eyes from the frightening sight, to find a corner and cower in it until Rafe or Jax found me, but I hardened myself against the thought.
Never again.
Praying my false bravado wouldn’t slip, I returned his bold stare. “What did you do, Zach?”
“What I had to do.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re going to accomplish here? You think because he’s not here to protect me that I’m yours now? Is that it?”
“You are mine.”
“No, I’m not.” I raised my left hand and flashed my wedding ring in his face. “I’m his, and maybe you don’t remember, but I promised to kill you if you ever came back. Do you remember that part, Zach?” Though my voice came out steady and harsh around the edges, on the inside, I was shaking.
“I’d think twice before issuing death threats. Did you know Rafe has a son?”
I swear time seemed to freeze. Zach arched a brow at my reaction; he hadn’t known that I knew about William.
“So you knew?”
“Rafe and I don’t have secrets.”
“No,” he said, pausing as he appeared to consider his next words carefully, “I suppose you don’t. Maybe the real question is what will you do to save the boy’s life?”
“Don’t you dare touch his son.”
“Relax, Lex. The boy is fine. And he’ll stay that way as long as you do as you’re told.”
I couldn’t breathe. For the first time in weeks, I resorted to counting.
Five in. Hold. Five out. Repeat.
I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped the exercise until now—until Zach stood in front of me, dangling me over the past that fucking refused to quit.
Because he would never quit until one of us ended up dead.
It took everything in my power not to place a protective hand over my belly. If Zach were willing to use Rafe’s son against us, he wouldn’t hesitate to harm the life growing inside me.
That’s when the tears threatened to give away my tumultuous emotional state. Instinct took over, the fight for survival, and I kneed Zach in the balls with everything I had. As he doubled over in agony, I took off in the opposite direction, feet sliding on the gleaming hardwood. I crashed into a door and frantically reached for the knob. But when I yanked it open, a black hole stared me in the face.
Footsteps pounded at my back, only seconds away. There was no time, and I was trapped. I bolted down the stairs, flipping a light on as I went, and prayed for an exit, or at the least, a wine cellar instead of a basement. Wine cellars were wonderlands of glass bottles. I’d threatened Rafe with the jagged head of one once. This time, it wouldn’t be a threat.
This time, I wasn’t only fighting for escape, but I was fighting for my life.
Fighting for Rafe.
Fighting for our child.
A sob threatened to bubble up in my throat. He didn’t even know about the baby yet. Would I get a chance to tell him?
Don’t think about that now.
I reached the bottom, and as I eyed the neat rows of wine taking up half of the cellar, I forced back the blanket of despair hanging over me. About to reach for a bottle, the bars sectioning off the other side of the room caught my attention.
A homemade prison made with me in mind.
Because Rafe was fucking twisted like that. I could see him throwing me in there for punishment, hands cuffed behind me so I couldn’t relieve the achy heat between my legs he would inevitably ignite.
Zach’s boots hit the top of the staircase, and I darted my gaze between the prison and the bottles. Maybe it was self-preservation kicking in; a voice in the back of my mind screaming that Zach would take me off the island first chance he got.
Something propelled me into the prison. I slammed the door shut, and the lock clanked into place with an echo of finality just as Zach reached the cellar. He launched himself across the room, but it was too late.
I was locked away, safe from him, the key to my freedom circling Rafe’s neck. Time was my weapon. All I had to do was make it through this until someone showed up, and someone was bound to, eventually.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Lex.” He curled his fingers around the bars.
“Now I’m your prisoner, just like you wanted.”
His laughter echoed through the cellar. “I don’t have a fucking key.”
“I know.”
Zach cursed under his breath, his knuckles going white from his forceful grip. We stared at each other for several moments, his hazel eyes meeting my jade.
He’d intruded on the island, wrecking the memory of my wedding night. He’d fucking stolen my groom, thinking he’d won the war.
But the battle had just begun.