Condemned (7 page)

Hell, I didn’t even know his name.

Behind me, the sun dipped toward the horizon, and the shadow of the island emerged in the river up ahead. The private piece of land, situated on the Oregon side of the Columbia River, had been in my family for generations. My mother split when I was young, and my anger over her absence had slowly burned until it flared during my teens. Dad tried to stem my violent tendencies by enrolling me into martial arts classes. He’d thought if I learned to fight with respect and a code of ethics, it would curb my thirst to pound on people. It wasn’t like I’d gone around beating on everyone, just the idiots who deserved it, but he’d had the right idea. Those lessons had probably saved my ass.

I wondered if my son—even thinking of him as mine set my head spinning—was angry over the gaping hole I should have filled all these years. Cars whizzed past, and for some strange reason, the hum of traffic settled my nerves. The island grew larger as the distance narrowed. I put the issue of fatherhood on the back burner and wondered how Alex was handling being locked up in the dark, her naked body shivering. I imagined her legs shaking, thought of how out-of-control she must feel, strung up on her toes and knowing she was at my mercy. My jeans grew unbearably tight.

Such helplessness shouldn’t turn me on so fucking much, but it did. Always had. My dad’s efforts to teach me right from wrong hadn’t touched on sexual deviance.

The mountains had turned to dusky blue against an orange backdrop by the time I turned around and retraced my steps back to town. Doc’s Grill, known for their unique dishes and secret sauces that couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else, was boisterous with activity. The restaurant had never suffered for business. That hadn’t changed in my absence, though so much about the town had, like the remodeled school, or how the post office no longer shared space with Cathy’s Quik-N-Go.

I entered, nodded at the waitress, and told her I was there to meet someone. I found Nikki sitting by herself at a corner table, nursing a beer. Candles lit the wooden tables, giving an intimate feel to the place, though the peanut shells covering the floor spoke of the casual setting.

I slid into the chair across from her. “Sorry I’m late.” I’d lost track of time, plus, I’d needed several minutes to convince my dick to settle down. No way was I walking in to meet Nikki with a raging hard-on.

“No problem. I was enjoying the quiet. William can be a handful, and I don’t get much ‘me’ time.”

“William?”

She dipped her head, and a curtain of blond hair obscured the left side of her face. “I named him after you.”

William, my middle name. How was it possible I’d had a son all this time, one who shared my name even, yet I’d known nothing about him? Seven years of missed birthdays, milestones, laughter and tears.

Thankfully, the waitress arrived to take our orders, and as Nikki asked about the daily specials, I took a few seconds to collect myself. I was a father. A dad. I had a kid. If I told myself that enough times, maybe it would sink in.

The waitress, a young brunette on the short side, turned to me and did a double take. “I thought you looked familiar. You’re Rafe Mason. My boyfriend is a huge fan. He never believed you raped that girl.” She winked at me. “A lot of people around here don’t.”

Unfortunately, a lot of people still did.

I autographed a napkin for her and gave her my order. Once she left, thick silence fell over us.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “You should’ve told me, Nik.”

“What good would it have done?” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “You were locked up, and you weren’t getting out anytime soon. Besides, let’s not delude ourselves. We were never serious. Getting pregnant…it just happened. I can’t say it was a mistake because I wouldn’t have William, but we never meant for it to happen.”

I picked up a spoon and swirled the ice chips in my water glass. “I actually thought I’d marry you someday.”

She laughed. “C’mon, Rafe. We were kids back then.”

And now we had a kid together. Neither of us spoke the words, though they hung in the air, as potent as the spices from the restaurant’s kitchen.

“We both know someday wouldn’t have come,” she continued. “You had your whole career in front of you before…” She lowered her head, and I despised how she didn’t say the words.

“Do you think I did it?”

“I told you a long time ago I knew you wouldn’t do something like that.” The corner of her mouth curled. “You never needed to force yourself on anyone. You had women begging at your feet.”

I tried not to squirm in my seat. Ironically, I had a naked woman, bound and locked up at that precise moment, just waiting for me to hold her down and fuck her hard. Nikki had no idea who I was. Who I’d become. She should have, though. She’d been the only woman who’d ever allowed me to get rough with her. I’d explored some of my baser urges with her, and she’d let me. She’d gotten off on it as much as I had. That’s why we’d worked. Our deep friendship had kept the drama to a minimum. We truly had been friends with benefits. Until I was arrested.

And now, to find out my relationship with her had resulted in a kid…

“What did you tell him about me?”

“The truth. I’ve always wanted you to be part of his life. Eight years seemed like forever to you, but I knew you’d get out eventually.” She brushed her bangs from her eyes—eyes suddenly bright. “I didn’t want to make things worse for you in there, so I kept quiet about the pregnancy.”

Ah, shit. I hated when chicks cried. Except for Alex. Her tears affected me differently. I craved them. “It’s water under the bridge. I’m here now, so let’s deal with this. You told him his dad went to prison?”

She shook her head. “I told him you had to go away for a few years, but you’d come back when you could. He’s at that age now where vague answers aren’t cutting it anymore. He wants to meet his father, Rafe.”

This was unbelievable, and bad fucking timing. I’d just committed a felony—for real this time—and I was about to compound felony upon felony. I couldn’t stop what I’d started, especially now. If I let Alex go, she’d run straight to the cops.

What a fucking mess. I pushed back from the table and resisted the urge to grab at my collar. “I need some time.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Nik…I’ve done things. Things I can’t undo. I’m not the same guy I was eight years ago.”

“I realize that.”

“No, you don’t.” Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and pulled at the strands until my scalp burned. “You should’ve told me. You should’ve fucking told me.”

I tossed a few bills onto the table to cover the dinner I wouldn’t eat, and then I rushed from the restaurant like the coward I was. But the question remained; if she
had
told me, would it have changed my mind about taking Alex?

I wanted to die.

I didn’t know how long he’d left me suspended, but it was messing with my head. I’d lost all sense of time and direction. My body was numb, almost weightless, except for the burn that circled my wrists. That pain didn’t go away, no matter how much I tried to block it out. At some point, I started counting...at some point I’d also given up. By the time 7,200 seconds passed, I was about to go out of my mind. The time after that was endless. My voice had gone hoarse long ago from screaming his name.

He never came, and I began to panic. Maybe the past eight years had made him snap and tormenting me this way was his only source of relief. Images popped into my mind, scenarios of him beaten in prison, or worse. The helplessness he must have experienced, just as I was now. I tried to wrap my mind around eight years, but I could hardly wrap my mind around the few hours since he’d slammed the door shut, once again leaving me in darkness. A sick feeling formed in my gut.

God, he must really hate me. My actions, born of cowardice and shame, had labeled him a rapist. In that moment, as I stood on tiptoes in a most punishing way, I hated myself more than he did. I deserved this.

The turn of a knob ricocheted, ringing through my ears, and a sliver of light beamed toward me an instant before it was extinguished. Impossibly, the blackness became even more suffocating. I heard him coming near, though he barely made a sound.

His touch landed on my shoulder, and I wondered how he found me so easily. His fingers were warm and soft, starkly different from the chill I couldn’t escape. My teeth chattered as his caress fluttered across my breasts, and my moan rent the air like a sword, tearing the quiet in two.

Clothing swished, and his arm brushed mine as he moved to stand behind me. His breath hit my ear before his words did. “All those years I was in prison, did you even think of me once?”

Twisting my aching wrists, I shuffled my feet, but my limbs refused to stop quaking. “Please let me down.”

“Answer the question.”

“I wrote you letters,” I blurted, then drew in a quick breath. In the wee hours of the morning when sleep eluded me, I’d bared my soul to him on paper. All the guilt I’d carried, how I felt about him. I’d also laid out every last detail of the secrets I kept locked away.

“I never got any letters.”

“I never sent them.” Why had I opened my mouth about the letters? If he ever found them…oh God.

“Then why write them?”

“Because I…”

“Spit it out, Alex.”

“I missed you.”

“You missed me?” He fisted my hair. “You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?
You
sent me away.”

“I know.” I grimaced as his tug on my hair increased.

“What part of me did you miss? The guy you couldn’t resist gawking at, or the guy who actually gave a shit about you?”

Past tense. He didn’t care about me anymore. I couldn’t blame him, but the knowledge hurt something fierce, threatened to chew a hole in my heart. “I just missed you, Rafe.”

“Did you write about all the dirty things you wished I’d do to you?”

“No.”

“Liar,” he murmured into my ear. “Tell me about your fantasies.”

I tried shaking my head, mortified, but his fist in my hair immobilized me.

“If you don’t start talking, you’re staying down here until morning.” His hand dropped, and I sensed him retreating.

“Don’t go!” I cried. “I’ll tell you.”

“I know you will. You haven’t changed. I knew eight years ago I could probably do anything I wanted, but I knew better.”

“And now?” I asked, hesitance creeping into my tone.

“Now I’m black on the inside. I just don’t give a fuck anymore.”

“I don’t believe that. I still remember who you are, even if you don’t.”

“Would the man you remember have strung you up on your toes?”

Definitely not.

“Didn’t think so,” he said, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “So talk. Tell me all of your dirty secrets.”

Oh God. The way he breathed those words into my ear was enough to unravel me. “I’ve thought about you making love to me.”

“Do I seem like a making-love kind of guy?”

“No.” He seemed like a fuck-you-until-you-split-in-two kind of guy. The kind of guy who’d bring new meaning to the word passionate.

“C’mon, Alex. Last chance to spill before I walk through that door alone.”

“I’ve thought about you going down on me.”

He rimmed my earlobe with his tongue, invoking a jittery sigh. “Did you get yourself off thinking about my tongue on your pussy?” He closed a hand around my throat, arched my neck, and darted his tongue inside my ear in an erotic demonstration of what he could do with his hot mouth on other areas of my body.

“You’re an ass,” I said, though the breathless quality of my voice took the sting out of the words.

“I want to fuck yours.”

I couldn’t help but tremble. The idea wasn’t pleasant, but at the same time, the thought of Rafe sliding inside my tight, forbidden hole…there was something tantalizing about it.

His harsh laughter brought me back to the here and now. “Fuck, you’re getting hot thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“No.” I shook my head, as if the denial alone wasn’t good enough, as if he could see me anyway in the darkness.

“I’m calling bullshit. You want me to fuck your ass.”

“I’ve never…done it before.” Anal sex was the one area where I was still a virgin, untainted by Zach’s brutal obsession. The thought of Rafe penetrating the last place left untouched turned me on in ways I couldn’t explain, yet it also terrified me.

“I can be your first.” He wedged a finger between my lips. “I bet you’ve dreamed of my dick in your mouth too. Do you like sucking cock?”

I closed my lips and sucked, unable to stop myself. His finger tasted of salt and something that was undeniably
him
. The way he stroked my tongue made me ache to have something much bigger in my mouth. I’d never wanted it before, had often endured Zach’s forceful intrusion while giving it my all just so he’d finish that much faster. But Rafe…putting my mouth on him would be different.

He withdrew his finger and traced a wet path down my throat. “I’m going to release you, and you’re going to obey every fucking demand, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” I said, biting back a moan.

He set me free from the shackles, and my arms fell to my sides, as if weighed down by cement blocks. Not allowing me a chance to stretch my protesting limbs, he pulled me though the blackness, as if a sudden charge of urgency drove him, and my heart thrummed an erratic beat as he pushed me up the stairs, fingers pressing into hips with a touch that was so
not
gentle. His hands on me, gouging with pain and power, flooded my pussy with heat and dampness. My breaths came rapidly, a wheezing sound more in tune with fear than with want, but wanted him, I did.