12. Turning Point - Rafe

12. TURNING POINT - RAFE

Two things haunted me: I had a son I’d yet to meet, and I had a naked captive in the cellar—a tempting, kinky one I ached to fuck again. I adjusted my jeans and tried to force my mind onto other things, but the fact that two days had gone by, in which I hadn’t dealt with either issue, wouldn’t leave me alone.

Neither would Nikki. She’d tried calling several times—I had eight unheard messages on my cell but was too chicken-shit to listen to them, let alone return her calls. I had no clue what to say to her anyway, mainly because she had no clue I’d kidnapped a woman and was now holding said woman in my cellar. Those weren’t exactly the actions of father material. The kid was probably better off never knowing me.

The cabin was too fucking quiet, too still. Alex had remained unnervingly silent, even when I’d gone down there to feed her, and Jax had gone into work. Enough was enough. She was mine—mine to play with, mine to torment. Fucking mine. If I wanted to fuck her again, I would. No more thoughts of how terrified she’d looked when she’d fallen into the river, or how my heart stopped as I tried to get hers working again.

My footsteps fell heavily on the stairs, and when I reached the bottom, I found her huddled in her favorite corner, her cheek to the concrete and body curled into a ball underneath the towel I’d left with her. It was cruel and inhumane, but damn, it was a sight I’d never forget. Besides, better to be hard and mean now, get her to fall into line, than return her to the cellar numerous times because I’d been too soft on her. I definitely didn’t want a repeat of the river.

Something enfolded my heart and squeezed. Fuck, she’d almost died, and whether I liked it or not, part of me would have died with her. My actions had nearly gotten her killed, and regardless of what she’d done, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her. I wanted to punish her, but I also couldn’t deny that I straight up wanted her. Period.

She’d become my world, my obsession, and I had no plans to let her off this island.

“If I let you out, will you behave?”

“Yes,” she said, the word falling from her lips in lifeless fashion. Maybe I’d finally broken her.

“Will you try to run again?”

“You know I won’t. Where would I go?”