Page 31 of Deviant

Except for the occasional nightmare that still busted through my defenses.

“ButIput you there, so how can you say it doesn’t involve me?”

“No, Zach and your father put me there. You were fifteen, Alex. Fucking fifteen-years-old. Scared and alone with no one on your side.” I brought my hands to her cheeks and cradled her face. “It’s not your fault. It never was. That’s why I don’t talk to you about those eight years. It’s not because I don’t want to share everything with you. It’s because I refuse to give you more ammunition to hate yourself.”

“That’s…that’s not what—”

“Bullshit. You wear your guilt like armor. You won’t forgive yourself, but you forgive everyone around you. Me, Jax, even Zach.”

“I willneverforgive him.”

I clenched my jaw, knowing exactly whichhimshe was talking about. “Don’t lie to me. You forgave him the instant you let him go.”

“I showed him mercy, for your sake. I haven’t forgiven him, Rafe.”

“It’s just who you are. I don’t like it, but I get it.” With a pause, I lowered my hands. “It’s time to forgive yourself. You made a mistake, but you didn’t set out to hurt anyone. You were scared and ashamed, and you let that shame drive you for years.” As I dropped my gaze to the faint marks on her skin—still visible from the night I found her standing next to the lake at camp—part of me died. “You need to stop punishing yourself. That’s my job now.”

“According to you.”

“Yes, according to me.” We stared at each other for several heated seconds, both raw and frayed around the edges, and my instincts told me she wasn’t about to back down. “I’m not kidding, Alex. The self-flagellation ends now.”

“Or what?” she asked, bristling at my authoritative tone, confirming my suspicion.

“Or you’ll find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in. I know every one of your weaknesses.” I leveled her with a look of warning. “Every single fear, and you know I’m not above using them to keep you in line.”

14. Oh Father - Alex

Keeping me in line meant giving me a reminder of his my-word-is-law attitude by chaining my ankle to the bed again. Only this time, he slept at my side. After a couple of days of eating my meals in our bedroom, I got a bad case of cabin fever and pleaded for my freedom, promising him that I’d behave.

He finally relented and let me free on the fourth morning.

I chased off boredom by spending the day cleaning the place, starting with those dead plants on the kitchen windowsill. And after Angel scrubbed the bathroom floors with a toothbrush—bychoice—she worked alongside me ridding the cabin of dust and grime, but we exchanged minimal conversation. The long stretches of silence didn’t bother me. I found her quiet nature comforting, companionable even.

While we kept busy inside, the guys disappeared outside to work on a few upkeep projects, including putting up a temporary fix for the window I’d broken.

I expected Rafe to lock that shackle around my ankle again, staying true to his “backup plan,” but he didn’t. After a dinner of steak and potatoes, he dragged me to bed and had me on my back, legs spread as he slid between them.

The way he loved me—with a rare tenderness that was so out of tune with his character—nearly made me cry. It couldn’t be classified as fucking. This was so much more, and my heart overflowed with too many vying emotions that I didn’t know what to do with them.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. I just love you.”

As he nibbled on my lower lip, I wondered if he would say it back. I knew he loved me, but he didn’t voice it as much as I’d like. He spoke the language of love in so many other ways—some normal and healthy, others sick and wrong.

“Telling you I love you isn’t enough, Alex.” He trailed his lips along my jawline. “It’ll never be enough. There aren’t enough words in the fucking dictionary to describe how I feel about you.”

“Try.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “Consumed. Territorial. Protective.” He inched back, and his green eyes twinkled at me. “Twitterpated.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Keep going.”

“Whipped, a piece of twine wrapped around your little pinky.”

“You’re being oddly gentle tonight.”

“I’m obsessed. Out of all the words in the English language that one says it best.” He claimed my mouth, effectively shutting me up as he increased his pace, hurtling us both to the finish line.

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