Page 39 of Descent
Twelve hours had passed since I’d miscarried, but those hours had changed me in ways I never imagined time could change a person. I no longer recognized the survivor in the mirror.
I only saw a ghost.
“He doesn’t deserve death. He deserves to suffer every fucking day for the rest of his life for what he’s taken from us.”
My baby, Rafe’s son. The things on the list were endless.
“He should live the rest of his life in that prison, tortured by what he can’t have,” I said, holding Rafe’s gaze, finding bold courage for what I was about to say, because he wouldn’t like it. “I want you to fuck me in front of him.”
Rafe dragged a hand down his face. “Why would you want that?”
“Because watching the way it is between us…that will hurt him.”
“Think about what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m asking you to make him suffer. It’s what he deserves.”
“This isn’t the way to go about it, Alex.”
“I know him. It will destroy him to see what he’ll never have. I need him to see that we’ll go on living while he rots down there.”
“So let me get this straight. Instead of killing the sonofabitch, you want to keep him locked up in our cellar for the rest of his life?”
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. “It’s a fate worse than death, and Zach deserves nothing less.”
“He does, babe. He deserves that and so much more. But you’re too upset right now to make such a huge decision. You’re not thinking this through.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was a mess, probably levels past the ability to think clearly. But the idea wouldn’t leave my mind. “Tell me you’ll consider it.”
Rafe gave a grim nod. And maybe he was placating me, being agreeable in hopes that I’d come to my senses.
I knew I wouldn’t.
21. Another Angle
Rafe
“What’s up with your woman?” Jax said, appearing in the kitchen. “She didn’t acknowledge my presence.” He nodded in the direction of the front porch where Alex had spent most of her free time for the last two days on the swing. “I swear she looked right through me out there.”
“You hungry?” I asked, dodging the inquiry in his eyes as I removed a baking dish from the oven. I hoped the homemade mac and cheese would give Alex a shred of comfort, because she sure as hell wasn’t getting any from me.
Not for a lack of trying, though. My wife had completely withdrawn into herself, and I couldn’t bring myself to use my normal methods of reaching her.
“I could eat,” Jax said, pulling three plates down from the cupboard.
“Where’s Angel?”
“She’s not feeling well. She wanted to stay at the safe house today.”
“I didn’t realize you’d gone back there.” I spooned a decent helping onto each plate.
“We thought we’d give you guys some space. It’s temporary, anyway. I might have tracked down one of Angel’s relatives in Cali.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah, man. A brother.”
We moved to the eat-in nook. “Give me a sec. I’m gonna see if I can talk Alex into coming inside.” As Jax slid onto the bench, I picked up my wife’s plate before leaving the kitchen.
She wouldn’t come inside. I already knew she wouldn’t, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying. Finding her where I’d seen her last, pushing the porch swing into motion with absent-minded calculation, I crouched in front of her, one hand stopping the swing to get her attention.
“Jax is here. Why don’t you come inside and join us for dinner?”
She blinked. “Have you decided yet?”
Fuck.
She wouldn’t let it go, and I was beginning to think she’d latched onto the idea of making Zach suffer in order to cope with the miscarriage. Truth was, neither of us were coping very well. I still hadn’t processed it, and though I hadn’t brought up the fact that she hadn’t told me, it was always on the forefront of my mind, question begging to be asked.
But I needed to find a way to ask it without accusing, because regardless of whether she should have told me, I recognized that she needed more from me than anger-flung accusations.
She needed my love.
And apparently, she needed Zach to witness just how intense my love could get.
“Zach’s fate can wait a few more days.” I set the plate next to her on the swing, and that’s when I spotted the fresh scratches on her forearm. Jesus. Something had to give because she sure as hell couldn’t keep hurting herself like this. “Try to eat, okay?”
With a muted nod, she picked up the plate, and I returned inside, leaving her to her self-imposed isolation.
“She’s still struggling with all of this, isn’t she?” Jax said as I took the seat across from him.
“A lot of shit’s happened.” Pushing my food around the plate, I raised my eyes. “She had a miscarriage the morning after we got back. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
