10. Visitors - Alex
Rafe and I were back in the kitchen when a black pickup pulled into the driveway. I stalled chopping peppers for the omelets, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Who’s here?”
Rafe continued whipping eggs in a bowl, an unworried expression on his face. I took in his non-reaction to the unfamiliar truck in the driveway as my cue not to panic, which wasn’t easy, as I’d been in fight-or-flight mode for so long when it came to unexpected shit.
“It’s Jax and…” he trailed off, his brows narrowing over eyes cast in brilliance from the sun shining through the square kitchen window. Clay pots homing long-dead plants lined the windowsill. “He’s got company with him. That’s all I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
He raised a brow, his mouth a wry slant. “I was a little preoccupied.”
Preoccupied with shoving my head under water. It happened an hour ago, but I still experienced a visceral response.
Accelerated pulse. Sweat dripping down my spine. Thready breaths.
I’d survived things that would make the toughest of men fold, yet water and a needy cock threatened to break me. No man on this planet could push me past my limits like Rafe did.
Zach hadn’t even accomplished that.
Maybe the part that bothered me most was how I caved every time. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Rafe.
“Besides,” he said. “I wanted his arrival to be a surprise.”
“How come?” I crossed my arms, utterly aware of my nakedness, and eyed him in suspicion. When Jax showed up, shit usually hit the fan.
He gave me a long, considering look. “I need a best man if I’m getting married, don’t I?”
A car door slammed, interrupting anything I might have said. Not that I had anything to say; I was too stunned by Rafe’s words.
“Go put some clothes on,” he said, smacking my bare ass. “Though I’m fucking tempted to make you greet Jax and Company naked for that stunt you pulled in the bathtub.”
Before he changed his mind, I hurried into our bedroom and rifled through my duffle until I found a red checkered sundress. I pulled it over my head, and as I laced up the bodice, heart knocking behind my ribs, I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
He was going to marry me.
In the back of my mind, logic tolled the bell of caution, reminding me how life often left me in the tatters of bloody destruction.
Fuck logic. And fuck the other shoe hanging over my head. That fucker wasn’t going to drop. I would take this morsel of happiness and run with it.
Fight for it.
Enjoy every second.
The soft cotton dress swished against my knees as I made my way into the living room again, where I found Jax pulling Rafe into a quick one-armed hug.
“Damn, it’s good to see you,” Jax said.
My gaze fell on the girl standing behind him and to the side. She wore cutoffs and a black tank, with a compact duffle slung over her shoulder. Something about her seemed familiar—not familiar in that I’d seen her before, but familiar because of the vulnerable aurora surrounding her.
Jax and Rafe’s conversation became background noise for the wheels spinning in my head. She was gorgeous, with blond hair that fell to her ass and striking blue eyes I only saw a hint of before she aimed them toward the floor. There was a frailty about her that unsettled me.
She was too thin.
Too timid.
Straight white teeth sucking in her bottom lip in a move I recognized as a nervous one.
The bruises marring her pale skin were the biggest giveaway.
My gaze clashed with Jax’s. His held a hint of guilt, reminiscent of the way he’d looked at Nikki right before she was killed, and that’s when it hit me. This girl was a slave like the one I’d seen in that tunnel last year. I could practically smell the fear coming off of her, sense the psychological damage behind her guarded eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest, cleavage rising and falling too rapidly to be normal in normal circumstances.
But nothing was normal about this situation.
Jax settled a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. The reaction was subtle, and I might have missed it if I hadn’t been scrutinizing her every move. He propelled her a few inches forward before dropping his arm to his side.
“Can you show her to my room?” he asked, directing the question at me. “I’ll take the couch,” he added, a look passing between him and the girl. Whatever he relayed to her without words seemed to ease some tension from her shoulders.
“What’s your name?”
“We’re calling her Angel,” Jax answered.
“What do you mean you’re calling her Angel? Does she not have a name?”
“I’m sure she has one.” Jax inched toward her, shadowing her side in a protective maneuver. “She doesn’t remember it.”
I waited for her to offer something more, but she remained quiet.
“I’m Alex.”
Still nothing. Not even a “nice to meet you” coming from her full lips.
The disquiet that settled over the four of us was suffocating. Finally, Jax broke the tension, snapping it with the force of a whip.
“You’re safe here,” he told her. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
Rafe arched a brow. “What’s going on, Jax?”
Running his hand through his perpetually shaggy blond hair, he pierced Rafe with an expression that said they’d talk later.
After the little women were out of earshot, of course.
Rafe settled a hand at the small of my back, fingers pointing toward the cleft in my ass. “Babe, give us a minute.”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. After disobeying him in the tub earlier, I didn’t want to push it. “Follow me,” I told Angel, biting back a growl that would tell the testosterone in the room exactly what I thought of their tactics.
She followed me down the short hallway, and I paused in front of Jax’s bedroom, hesitant to enter that untouched domain. I’d never been inside his room. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I shoved the door open and crossed the threshold into a room that smelled musty from disuse. The space appeared innocuous enough, left tidy from the last time he’d been here, bed made and all. Suddenly, I wondered if Jax had visited the cabin since the morning he and Rafe blew up the Perrone estate.
My heartbeat thrashed in my chest as something else occurred to me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
Had Rafe been back? Had he waited until I left this place, tears of grief saturating my face as I followed Jax out of the cabin for what I believed to be the last time? While I’d suffered his death on my own in Portland, had he hidden out here before moving on to Shelton’s fight ring off the coast?
The idea sent a ripple of rage through me. I wanted to scream and pound my fists on the walls. I wanted him to grovel for what he’d done.
I wanted him to realize how much he’d hurt me, because I wasn’t convinced he understood the extent of it.
“I can sleep on the couch.” Angel’s delicate voice broke through the chaos of my runaway thoughts.
“Take the room,” I said, turning to face her. “If Jax wants you in here, you should be in here.”
Especially since I didn’t know the dynamic of their relationship. If they even had one. For all I knew, Jax was in charge, like Rafe was with me, and he’d punish her disobedience.
“Okay.” Without another word, she let the small duffle on her shoulder slide to the bed. I stood back, curiosity getting the best of me while she filled a drawer in the dresser with her meager belongings.
Undergarments on the left side, tees in the middle, followed by shorts and skirts on the right. She set each folded article inside, one at a time.
Everything in threes.
The whole time, she didn’t speak, and I was stunned into utter silence when she gripped the hem of her tank top and dragged it up her protruding ribcage. She removed her clothing with reverence, folding each garment into a perfect square before placing it on top of the dresser in a neat pile.
Maybe to be washed?
Next, the duffle found a spot in the top of the closet.
Then she kneeled at the end of the bed with her hands clasped at her back, eyes downcast.
Totally fucking naked.