Page 33 of Fervent

I sprawled on that bed for hours, maybe even days, months…a whole fucking lifetime, and as I drifted in and out of consciousness, images of Nikki’s murder infiltrated my nightmares. So did Alex’s broken pleas for me to save her. I also dreamed of Cleft’s cock in my ass, the strong grip of fingers holding me down.

And the laughter. Always the fucking laughter.

Time passed in a jumbled mess of nightmares that never failed to spring me up from bed, drenched in sweat and shaking to my bones. I was pathetic. I couldn’t even protect the woman I loved.

I loved Alex.

Fuck.

I’d never told her.

I’d also loved Nikki, maybe not in the same intense, out-of-my-fucking-mind way I did Alex, but I’d loved her.

Had I ever told her? Even once?

I’m pretty sure I hadn’t. I was a fucking pussy incapable of telling anyone how much they meant to me. I didn’t need a shrink to tell me I had abandonment issues. I could blame it all on my mom for leaving the way she had, but I was an adult, even if I’d grown into adulthood on the inside of four prison walls. Even if I didn’t remember that transformation, I was twenty-nine fucking years old.

So where did that leave me?

Alone, fucked, and about to die without having ever said those important three little words to anyone.

To my own son.

I held my breath, heart thudding so hard, I thought I might save Perrone the trouble of killing me.

I had a kid.

Nikki.

Holy fuck.

I gripped my head and squeezed my eyes shut. I remembered nothing else, but I knew it was true. She’d had a son, and he was mine.

And now he was motherless, about to be fatherless. But he’d been fatherless all along. I wasn’t fit to be a parent anyway. I wasn’t fit to be loved by Alex either.

Fucking dying down here was for the best.

Eventually, that door opened again, but I didn’t move or acknowledge whoever had ventured into this shithole. Part of me wished they’d just end this hell already.

“You here to kill me?” I asked, a challenge in my tone.

The door shut with a quiet click and a flashlight came on, the beam gliding over my prone figure on the bed. Footsteps sounded, and my pulse sped up in preparation for a fight, because even though I wanted them to get it over with already, I couldn’t go down without one last battle. And I wanted a fair fucking fight. It’d been a while since they dosed me with drugs, and I wouldn’t get a fair go at whichever asshole was in here if he pumped me full of them again.

A bundle of denim landed beside my head, followed by soft cotton. I sprang up and launched myself at whoever was here to drag me into another scene of torture.

“Rafe!” Jax said in a low whisper.

I let go of him and stumbled back.

He aimed the beam of light into my face. “I’m getting you outta here. Get dressed.”

I didn’t move at first, too stunned in trying to wrap my head around what was happening. Jax blinked several times, and the stress on his face, the defeat in his grievous eyes, sent a spear of dread through me.

“Is Alex…?” I swallowed hard, but I still couldn’t get the words out. If she was gone, she was in a better place now, but I about hit the ground at the thought.

“Alex is fine.” He hung his head. “Nikki’s gone. What happened to her is on me.” Taking a deep breath, Jax appeared to shake it off and gestured to the clothing he’d tossed on the mattress. “I have to end this. I’m getting you guys out of here, but we don’t have much time. The old man will be back in a few hours.”

I grabbed the jeans and pulled them on. “What’s the plan?” I asked before yanking the T-shirt over my head. My pulse pounded, and I gritted my teeth. Trusting Jax wasn’t easy, but what choice did I have?

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