Page 42 of Rampant

Minutes later, a side door opened and Lyle appeared, the deputy on his heels. His gaze blasted me, and the scowl twisting his features made me want to yank Alex out of there immediately. But his expression softened when he asked if she was comfortable giving her statement to him.

She told him she was okay with that, then turned to give me a tiny reassuring smile. “I’ll be back.”

I wanted to go with her. I wanted to grab her and never let go, but I understood her need to do this on her own. They disappeared behind the door, and the deputy resumed his spot behind the window, his attention captured by a crossword puzzle.

I knocked on the glass. “I need to make a call. If she comes back before I do, let her know I’m right outside, okay?”

He waved me off without raising his head. What a prick. I withdrew my cell as I exited, and a strong breeze carrying the familiar scent of fresh water and a hint of fish rustled my hair. Scrolling to Jax’s name in my contact list, I pushed the call button and waited for him to answer, all the while searching the area. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted overheard, but I needed something fast and my instincts told me he could get it for me.

“What’s up?” he answered.

I darted my gaze around the parking lot once more, satisfied that I was completely alone. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“I need a gun.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me. Can you get one?”

“Well, yeah, but why? What’s going on?”

“It’s Alex. She showed up on the island today. I don’t wanna go into details, but she’s scared. I need a weapon.”

“Whoa…you need to back up there. What the fuck is going on?”

I sighed in exasperation. “Her brother is psychotic. He’s the one who shot me, Jax. Can you get me a gun or not?”

“Are you gonna use it to protect yourself or her?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What does it matter?”

“You’re doing it for her then.”

Not a question. “So what if I am?” I shot back, tiring of his inquisition. “If you don’t wanna do it, just say so. I’ll find someone else.” Though Jax was the only one I trusted even marginally with this. I was a felon. If I went down for getting my hands on a gun, well that would be tragically ironic.

And dangerous because Alex would be left on her own.

“You sure she’s worth it?”

“Why do you hate her?” I asked, the disdain in his voice bothering me.

“I don’t hate her.” He lowered his confrontational tone by a few degrees. “You did, for the three years we shared a cell.”

“There’s a reason she did what she did.” I kicked a rock and watched it ricochet off a bright blue curb. “She’s trying to make it right, and she’s fucking terrified, Jax. I won’t stand by and do nothing.”

He sighed. “You wouldn’t beyouif you did. Saving people is your MO.”

I glance around again, tapping my foot. “So you’ll get it for me?”

He didn’t say anything at first, and I thought I heard him let loose a curse. “Yeah, I’ll get you what you need. Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll get it to you tonight.”

The boat ride back to the island broke the final straw of my sanity. I collapsed onto the couch, tightened into a ball in the corner, and clung to the false shield of numbness protecting me. What a ridiculous illusion, the idea of safety.

Maybe my father was right in threatening to have me committed, because I sank into the term “crazy” with a vengeance, especially after Jax showed up and gave Rafe a gun.

Three days had passed since that night, and I still didn’t remember breaking down with much clarity. I had vague recollections of wailing and clawing at Rafe and Jax when they tried to calm me, but I couldn’t remember what had gone through my head, though something had triggered the episode. At first, I thought it was Jax’s presence, but later that evening, when Rafe tucked the gun underneath his pillow on the couch, it hit me.

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