Page 3 of Descent
At least now I had a good idea of the location.
Shelton Briggs owned an estate a few miles inland of the coastline, in addition to a number of other properties scattered throughout the area. Some he used for the fights, like the barn Jax had burned down last winter so Alex and I could escape.
Others, I knew, he kept for more nefarious purposes.
Two hands pushed me into motion, accompanied by a gruff “get moving.” They ushered me through an endless field of grass that reached above the knee before we climbed a set of wooden steps. Keys jingled, a door squeaked open, hinges beyond needing oiled. Then we were moving again, navigating what felt like a narrow hallway on uneven floorboards.
More hinges squeaked, and someone shoved me forward before yanking the hood off my head. My lids flickered as the windowless room came into focus. The space was no bigger than a prison cell. I spied a twin mattress on the worn plank flooring and nothing else. Above me, shackles hung from a sturdy beam.
A cocktail of dread and deja vu twisted in my gut, but unlike last year when Perrone’s assholes had taken Alex and me, I wasn’t drugged this time. I straightened my spine, body strung tight, ready to fight and defend, even without the full use of my hands.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” one of Shelton’s escorts said, sounding bored. He and the other men stood between the door and me, giving off a vibe of nonchalance. Because the fuckers had leverage, and even if I did overpower the three of them, that still didn’t solve the issue of my son.
“Where’s the boy?” I demanded, matching the guy’s apathetic tone as I dusted off my black pants. The less significance I put on my relationship with William, nonexistent as it was, the better. I was his father, and that gave them enough leverage as it was—they sure as hell didn’t need to know how terrified I was for my son’s safety.
“The kid is fine,” the guy on the right said. He was built with a couple inches on me. His blond hair was cropped short, and something about the way he stood straight as a pillar screamed ex-military. He pointed at me, a no-nonsense line transforming his lips. “Sit tight. Boss will be here in a bit.”
I gritted my teeth as the three of them filed out of the room. The heavy wooden door slammed shut, and a lock clanked into place, giving off the sound of finality. I didn’t do patience well, especially under these circumstances. Leaning against the far wall with nothing to do but wait, I fisted my shackled hands.
That’s when my wedding band caught the faint light coming from the single bulb in the ceiling. A band of despair wound around my heart like a vise, squeezing the life from it. This time yesterday, I was preparing to marry the love of my life. My mind dove off the deep end, straight into the happiest fucking memories of my existence.
The way Alex had watched me as she’d walked down the aisle in that sexy-as-hell white dress. The joy of her smile during the exchanging of vows. The trust in her jade eyes later that night when she’d bared her ass to Jax’s paddle as her mouth sucked my cock down her delicate throat.
Then I imagined her horror-filled expression when she awoke and realized I’d left her alone to fend off Zach. Bitter anger stung my eyes. Intense self-hatred.
How could I have left her?
Blinking away the burgeoning sting, I tried to come up with an answer but failed. I had no fucking clue how I’d been capable of walking away knowing she was asleep upstairs, content in the illusion of safety while Zach lay in wait.
The chaos in my head overflowed. Shelton’s holding cell and its isolation was going to drive me mad. Every thought and fear amplified, sharpening with sickening clarity. I saw Zach putting his hands on her, forcing her legs apart, beating her. Glorifying in her pleas for help that would never come.
Holy fuck, I was going to be sick. I sank to my haunches and hung my head, breathing deep and even, counting each breath until the vomit in my throat receded. But there was no way I could ignore how dire of a situation I’d left her in. I recalled Alex’s frail state after she’d escaped Zach the first time, when I’d found her in that hospital bed, alone and broken.
No, never broken.
I’d been the one broken, my mind fractured and void of memories. Even after I left her in that hospital, she’d still had the strength to break free of her father and Zach. She’d been brave, facing her phobia of water long enough to cross a river and knock on my door, despite believing I didn’t give two fucks about her.
