Descent (Condemned Book 6) Page 2

  She’d get through this.

  She had to fucking get through this.

  With a groan, I squeezed my eyes shut. She shouldn’t have to get through this.

  Not again.

  When would I stop letting her down?

  No answers, and no fucking way out. I stared at the door, willing it to disappear. Willing this solitary room to fade, to be replaced with the cabin on the island and Alex next to me, naked and warm and safe in bed.

  But this wasn’t a nightmare.

  This was real fucking life, and I had to be smart. Until I found out what Shelton wanted, I needed to keep my cool. As if my thoughts had summoned the devil himself, Shelton pushed the door open.

  “Good to see you again.”

  “Can’t say I share the same sentiment,” I said, lifting my shackled hands. “Seeing as how you’ve got me in cuffs.”

  Shelton nodded toward his men. “Let him go. He won’t be a problem.”

  One of the goons scrambled to follow the order. Afterward, I pushed away from the wall, hands at my sides, no longer bound by metal, and glared at the guy responsible for fucking up my honeymoon. Several seconds passed as we sized each other up. He was no less intimating than I remembered. Beefy inked arms, same shrewd gaze. Shelton was the epitome of brutality.

  I was angry enough to take him, even with the same three men who’d brought me in waiting at the threshold as backup. It took every last ounce of my self-control not to lunge for him.

  “Why am I here?”

  “You’re here because I want you here.” He waved a hand around the windowless room. “Are you not happy with the accommodations?”

  “Cut the shit, Shelton. Why the fuck am I here?”

  His casual nonchalance faded. “You cost me a fortune the night you blew out of town and left my barn in flames.”

  I should have known that mess would come back to bite me in the ass. “You didn’t have to bring Alex into it.”

  “Do you think the men I answer to gave me the same courtesy?” He raised a brow, but I already knew the question was a rhetorical one. “They beat the shit out of my old lady. She was in the hospital for three goddamn months.” He paused long enough for his statement to percolate. “So I’m sure you understand why I had to bring Alex into this. Fair is fair.”

  “An eye for an eye, is that it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Zach won’t just put her in the hospital. He’ll break her.”

  A smile curved Shelton’s lips, and a chill traveled down my backside. “I know exactly what De Luca junior wants with your whore.”

  The rage festering inside me boiled over. My feet ate up the space between us, and I clutched him by the throat, lifting until he was on his toes. “I will kill you for this.”

  His men lurched forward, but Shelton’s voice halted them, strong despite my hold. “Stay back!” His devious eyes focused on me and nothing else, and the fact that he wasn’t shaking in my grip pissed me off more. “He won’t hurt me,” he told his goons, and then he smiled in my face. “We have something he wants.”

  William.

  The fight bled from my soul until my fingers lost strength, and Shelton slipped free. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his collar. “You’re in no position to hand out threats. I’ve got you cornered from all sides.”

  The truth had never seared so much. “What do you want?”

  “That’s the question you should have started with.” He paused, and each beat passed with significance. The dread in my stomach grew as he exchanged meaningful glances with his guys. “We’re anticipating a hell of a payday around here, aren’t we, boys?”

  I studied him, and the next few seconds slithered by with lethal intent as it started to sink in. “You want me to fight in the cage.”

  “Oh, not just any fight. I want what you promised. What my business associates paid good money to see, but instead were sent home empty-handed after you disappeared and left me to clean up the goddamn mess.”

  He wanted a death match. Shit. He was out for blood. Literally.

  “Bring Zach back. I’ll gladly kill him in the cage.” I wouldn’t hesitate to put him down—just like the rabid dog he was.

  Shelton tsked. “That opportunity has come and gone. De Luca junior earned his life…and his piece of ass. Something you could have done,” he said, pointing a finger at me, “if you’d stuck around to do right by me and mine.” He narrowed the space between us until we stood nearly nose-to-nose. “But you will fight, and you will win.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Your son pays the price.” He jabbed a finger into my chest. “I own you now, Mason.”

  3. Game On

  Alex

  I couldn’t breathe.

  A groan rumbled on my lips. I tried swallowing, but my mouth felt hot and dry and rough as sandpaper. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the pitch-black, and rolled to my side on the thin cot. Sliding my feet to the concrete floor, I braced for the coolness under my heels, but it didn’t come.

  The floor was neither hot nor cold—just different from how I remembered it before I’d drifted into a fitful sleep.

  But something was definitely…off.

  It was too hot in the cellar, the air too heavily weighted. Too thick to breathe easily. I stumbled through the blackness to the sink, working my thick tongue against the roof of my mouth. I was so damned parched that I could practically taste the refreshing liquid on my tongue. My stomach cramped from lack of food, and water was the best I could do at the moment, so when I switched on the faucet and nothing happened, I almost cried. I tried again and again, but the pipes refused to spit out what I thirsted for.

  With a desperate groan, I slumped to the floor. Sweat trickled down my back, crawled between my breasts, and each breath sawed in and out with too much effort. I placed my palms on my warm cheeks as frustration burned by eyes.

  Goddamn him.

  Zach was trying to sweat me out. I had no way of telling time down here, but if I had to guess, I figured I’d slept the night away in restless fits, drifting in and out of consciousness. I was going on thirty-six hours without food, and now the heat made the environment suffocating.

  How much longer would I be able to hold out?

  And even if I did give in and tell him where the key was, it wouldn’t help me now. Not with Rafe gone and the key around his neck. Jax was the only person who had a spare.

  Footsteps sounded above, and I tilted my head, listening as those heavy, purposeful stomps landed on the floor, bringing Zach across the room. Thirty seconds later, the lock on the cellar door clicked over, and he flipped on the light.

  I blinked against the sudden brightness as he made his way down the stairs, bringing a hint of a breeze with him. I bit my lip, swallowing a groan. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my feverish skin in that breeze. My eyes adjusted to the light, and I found Zach loitering on the other side of the bars, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

  “Good morning,” he said, confirming my guess at the time. “You look a little dehydrated.”

  “I’m fine,” I ground through gritted teeth. A blatant lie—one he undoubtedly saw through—but I wasn’t about to let him win this game. I’d hang onto my pride for as long as I could.

  Rafe would come back soon. He had to. If not him, then Jax would return.

  Just fucking hold on, Alex.

  With a snicker, Zach wrapped his fingers around the bars. “Did you know the cellar has its own thermostat?”

  Refusing to engage, I bit my tongue to stay quiet.

  He let out a snicker. “You really think you’re gonna win this standoff?”

  I glared at him. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, that’s a loaded question, baby.”

  “I already told you. I don’t know where the fucking key is.”

  “Even if I did believe you, there are plenty of other ways to pass the time.” His sharp, hazel gaze lowered to my lips. “Until I get my hands on t
hat key, I’ll settle for a good mouth-fuck.”

  My stomach revolted at the thought. “Never!”

  “You think you’re hungry and thirsty now?” My stomach chose that moment to impart an obnoxious growl, and Zach answered with a knowing smirk. “I’ll have you begging to suck my cock by this time tomorrow.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  He let out an indulgent laugh that chilled my blood, and despite the sweltering heat coming through the vents, I shivered.

  “You know what these past few months have taught me?” He paused a beat as if to wait for my answer. “Patience, Lex.”

  “Good thing time is running out for you then.”

  Another laugh, followed by the easy pace of his meandering footsteps. “Still holding out for a rescue, are you?”

  “Jax will come back eventually.”

  He faltered in front me again with only a few feet and inescapable bars separating us. “I guess I should’ve told you this sooner.” He let several seconds pass—just long enough to ratchet my heartbeat with dread. “Jax sent a text to Rafe’s phone saying he’s staying clear of the island for the next few weeks.” His voice flit through the air, eerily calm and triumphant. “No one’s coming for you, so you might as well tell me where the goddamn key is.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “It feels a bit like hell down here, doesn’t it?” His feet shuffled against the concrete. “Maybe you need some more time to consider your lack of options.”

  The heavy thud of his shoes carried him up the stairs, and a few seconds later, the light shut off. The blackness seemed to spin around me, and my heart pounded behind my breastbone.

  Because it was starting to sink in.

  Help wasn’t coming. Not in enough time, anyway. He’d either breach the door to the prison, or I’d lose the last of my self respect in order to survive these bars. But there was only so much he could do to me from the other side of them. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I made a vow to be strong.

  I would survive this. Rafe and I would both survive this. Two people shouldn’t have to be so strong, shouldn’t have to fight so hard for happiness, but we would despite the distance between us and the impossible circumstances. Despite the apparent curse hanging over our heads. I had faith we’d make it through.

  I thought back to the hours we’d spent together on our wedding night. The way he’d made love to me in our bed for the first time as husband and wife. The light of hope and love in his green eyes. The way he looked at me.

  God, the way he looked at me would stay with me until I took my last breath. Those precious hours were the happiest of my life, and that made the memory of them now slice so much deeper.

  “Rafe.” Holding my belly, I choked out his name on a sob that tried to break free. “I need you. Find a way to come back to me.”

  4. Leverage

  Rafe

  Four days. That’s how long I had to figure this shit out before Shelton turned me into his prized death fighter. Such a match would give him a huge payday, along with the revenge he craved. If I didn’t cooperate, he had only to remind me that my son’s life depended on it.

  He had all the fucking leverage in the world, and no amount of pacing this cell, spinning all the angles in hope of finding a way out, would change that. The harsh reality of my situation hung over my head, crowding the air in the windowless room with desperation.

  Spewing a string of curses, I banged on the door. “Hey! Is anyone out there?” I needed answers. I needed for him to talk to me.

  Pound, pound, pound.

  “Shelton! Talk to me, you fucking coward!” I beat on the door for several minutes, long after my knuckles throbbed.

  Silence. Incessant, maddening silence.

  The bastard had shut me in with the promise that he’d see me soon. That was sometime yesterday.

  With gritted teeth, I stomped from the door to the far wall and back again—all of ten fucking feet. Waiting was the worst part. I had no idea if my son was okay.

  And I didn’t have a clue where Zach might take Alex. I had to assume he’d take her off the island, if he hadn’t done so already. The thought gutted me. I banged on the door again, and the wood vibrated under the onslaught. I could break through if I put enough effort behind it, but with my son’s whereabouts unknown, I couldn’t take that chance.

  I took another angry loop around the closet-sized room. I was about to park my ass on the floor when the lock on the door suddenly clanked over.

  Shelton stood on the threshold, flanked by two of his men. “What do you want?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I took a step toward him, tempted to pound that irritated smirk off his face. “If you want me to fight in your fucking cage, then let my son go.”

  “You’ll do what you’re told, regardless.”

  “How do I know you haven’t hurt him already?”

  “I’m not in the business of hurting children.”

  “No, just kidnapping them,” I snapped. “I want to see him. If you think I’m going to trust your word, you’re crazy.”

  Shelton’s steady gaze bored into me for several moments. “Fine.” He nodded toward the open door. “Come with me.” He pivoted, entering the hall, and I followed suit, almost expecting a trap because he was being too agreeable. The place was built like a barn, but instead of open stalls, doors lined the hallway. Shelton stalled in front of the last door on the right.

  My son had been right down the hall the whole time, alone and scared. The fact that he’d been so close yet out of reach killed me, and I braced myself for what I might find on the other side.

  Because I hadn’t set eyes on him in six months, and it had been even longer since he’d seen me. He had no idea who I was. In fact, he probably didn’t remember the day he’d spotted me from the back of his mother’s car last summer outside the post office.

  The day I learned I was a father.

  Shelton rapped on the door three times then waited a full thirty seconds before jabbing a key into the paddock. He opened the door, hinges squeaking their protest. The room was windowless, like mine, but at least Shelton had attempted to turn it into a space suited for a child. A twin bed sat against the back wall, and a desk and lamp took up space along another. Artwork lined the walls—little stick figures playing basketball, and drawings of various animals. My gut tightened.

  How long had my son been here?

  Will sat on the bed, his jean-clad legs drawn to his chest while a blindfold shielded us from his sight. Now I understood why Shelton had knocked and waited, and I found it reassuring that Will hadn’t seen any of their faces.

  It gave me hope that Shelton didn’t have plans to hurt him.

  “I want to go home.” The demand sounded weak on the boy’s lips, yet somehow, underneath the thready quality of his nine-year-old voice, I detected strength.

  Or maybe it was stubborn determination. Either way, I found bravery in those words and the way he said them.

  Shelton cleared his throat. “Someone’s here to see you, Will.” He gave me a warning look. “You’ve got five minutes.” He exited the room and shut me inside with my son.

  Will raised his chin in my direction. “Are you gonna let me go?”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I crossed to where he sat on the bed and crouched in front of him, making sure to keep enough distance between us so I didn’t spook him.

  “It’s not up to me, buddy, but I’m going to do everything in my power to get you out of here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  Realistically, he should be very afraid, though fear was the last thing I wanted him to experience.

  “Who are you?”

  Jesus Christ, he had to ask the tough question. “I’m a friend. I came here to make sure you’re okay. Has anyone hurt you?” I held my breath, hands balling into fists at the thought of anyone laying a hand on him.

  But he shook his head, and I let the furious tension in me subside.

  “Are the
y feeding you good?”

  “Yeah, but I’m allergic to peanut butter, so I couldn’t eat lunch a couple of times.”

  Nikki had also been allergic to peanut butter. “I’ll tell them to stop with the PB&Js.”

  Hell, he looked so small and scared sitting there. I wanted to pull him into my arms and tell him everything would be okay, but I didn’t dare touch him.

  Someone disengaged the lock on the door, signaling the end of my five minutes. I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Listen, Will. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise. But I need you to do something for me.”

  “Okay.”

  No hesitation whatsoever. Just easy agreement. I wasn’t sure if his quick trust was a good thing, or a bad thing.

  “I need you to keep that blindfold on when they’re around. Don’t ever take it off or peek at them, okay?”

  He gave a rapid nod of his head. And maybe he knew as well as I did that if he could identify them, they might not let him go.

  The kid was smart.

  “Are they keeping you in a room too?” he asked in a whisper.

  Smart and perceptive.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed his hand and squeezed, sidestepping his question. “You’re going to be okay. I won’t let them hurt you.”

  “Time’s up,” came a gruff voice that didn’t belong to Shelton. I glanced behind me and found Military Dude standing in the hall. I let go of Will’s hand and headed toward the open doorway, putting some distance between us.

  And it hit me hard that this could be the last time I saw my son. The final glimpse of him tore my heart out. He seemed so small, sitting in that dimly lit room, the only life in that space the vibrant doodles of a fourth grader. The door slammed shut between us, and Shelton’s man latched the lock again.

  “Are you satisfied?” Shelton said from three feet down the hall. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he arched a brow my way.

  “You don’t need him here. Let him go back to his grandparents. I’ll cooperate as long as I know he’s with them.”

  “You’ll cooperate anyway.”