Page 36 of Deviant

“Of course not. I’m only stating a fact. This war between you and Zach has hurt you both.”

“Not just us,” I said, eyes burning with heartache. “Rafe lost eight years of his life because of our lie.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Did you know we were kidnapped last year?”

Dad shook his head.

“They held us underground for…shit, I don’t even know how many days it was. Lucas Perrone was behind it.”

For the first time since I’d seen Dad on the porch, he actually appeared rattled. “I read in the paper that someone torched his estate, busted an underground sex ring wide open.”

He didn’t ask the question, but I heard it in his tone—the careful way he spoke, implying that a puzzle piece had fallen into place, allowing him to read between the lines. Maybe he even realized that Lucas Perrone had been the reason for his arrest.

“Someone did a real number on Perrone.”

“Rafe will do anything to protect me.” I let that heavy statement sink in. Underneath it lay a threat.

“Seems he and I want the same things, Alexandra. I want you to be safe and happy.”

“I want to know the truth.”

“And what truth would that be?”

“Did you kill my mom?” I enunciated each word.

“Will my answer matter?” He stood, taking his cup with him, and strolled to the sink to rinse it out. “If I tell you I didn’t do it, you won’t believe me. If I tell you I did, it’ll just break your heart.” His broad shoulders rose and fell for a full minute as silence descended over the kitchen. Then he turned and faced me. “Either way, it’ll change nothing.”

“It’ll change everything.” Rising to my feet, I crossed my arms. “If you’re behind her death, I won’t stop until they toss your ass back in jail and throw away the key this time.”

His mouth turned up in a humoring smile, and I wanted to smack that look off his face. “Alexandra, you’re not in a position to threaten me. Or have you forgotten that I can bury Rafe? Don’t mistake my time in prison as a sign of weakness.”

“You, weak?” I grabbed my purse from the table and shouldered the strap. “I wouldn’t think of it.” Tamping down the jittery fear clogging my throat, I closed the distance between us. “Rafe thinks I’m strong. Maybe he’s right. Maybe that’s the one thing you taught me.”

I left him standing in the kitchen and exited the house, the door slamming shut behind me as I hurried toward the Jeep. Anxious to put as many miles between me and my past, I backed onto the street then stomped on the gas. A block down the road, I passed a police cruiser. The officer slowed, and at first I thought he was going to turn around and come after me. For all I knew, Rafe had reported the Jeep stolen. But the cruiser turned into my dad’s driveway instead.

God, that was a close call, and undoubtedly Rafe’s doing. He was desperate if he’d resorted to calling the authorities.

I made it five miles down I-84 before the shakes set in. Pulling onto the shoulder, I switched off the radio and did my breathing exercises for several minutes. The same urgency that had sent me running from the cabin now gripped my soul, demanding I return to it.

To Rafe.

Struggling under the weight of shame for my actions, I sent him a text that I was on my way, then I hit the road and didn’t look back. If not for the GPS, I wouldn’t have been able to find the cabin. Until I’d actually driven the back roads, navigating the hairpin curves, I hadn’t realized how remote the safe house was.

I guess that’s why they called it a safe house, though.

Instead of making me feel isolated and afraid, it made me feel protected. Even knowing Rafe would punish the shit out of me when I returned didn’t upset me as much as the whole confrontation with my dad had.

If he were innocent, he would have denied killing her.

The tears started about two miles away from the cabin, and I wiped them from my cheeks in anger. I couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. I had to find a way to get through whatever Rafe was going to do to me.

I pulled in front of the cabin, and he came barreling down the stairs, his face a mask of worry and rage. The two emotions were a frightening mixture on his hardened features. Wordlessly, he dragged me from the Jeep and hauled me inside, and I fell to my knees before he had a chance to demand I do so. My entire body was trembling—shoulders, arms, fingers. Thighs, knees, feet. The utter storm of wrath spreading over his face scared me more than anything.

The severe line of his mouth, jaw set in determination. I’d known there would be consequences for what I’d done, but I dreaded his imminent punishment more than I thought I would.

He stared me down for the longest seconds of my life, and the silence between us roared in my ears. Even Jax and Angel didn’t make a sound. From the corner of my eye, I noticed her hunched posture. She knew as well as I did that I was in deep shit.

“I’m too fucking angry right now to punish you. Go to our room and pick a corner. I want you on your knees with your face in it.”

I sprang to my feet and headed for the hall. Fuck, he was more pissed than the night I’d run away from his boat, and that had involved my recklessness with a firearm.

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