Descent (Condemned Book 6) Page 8

  Fuck, I’d underestimated him.

  I seized his arm and grappled him into a submission hold, stretching his tendons until his face reddened from exertion. Metallic coated my tongue. Turning my head, I spit a mouthful of blood onto the concrete.

  Just another splotch on Shelton’s stage of pain.

  But I hadn’t locked the guy in, and with each grunt-filled centimeter, he broke free. We jumped to our feet at the same time, fists raised. The circling resumed, both of us waiting for the right opportunity as the crowd clamored for it to happen now.

  But that was the problem. Under these circumstances, how could there be a right time to go after someone with the intent to kill? Springing forward, I landed three strikes to his temple, followed by a knee to the solar plexus. We participated in this dance to the point of frustration, trading jabs and kicks. Back and forth, just testing each other.

  Like two alpha lions playing with their food before going in for the kill.

  Because there was no right moment. No epiphany blindsiding me with sudden wisdom that would help me get the fucking job done. Back when I killed Perrone, I’d done it in a rage, and his death had come fast.

  Faster than the bastard had deserved.

  When I hunted Brock down to serve my idea of vengeance, I’d taken more time in making him pay, but his death had still come quick. The only way I’d be able to kill the guy sizing me up now was to make the decision and go for it.

  Things would get violent.

  The crowd would witness death, all right.

  And that’s when he delivered a swift uppercut. Pain spiraled through my jaw as diamond-like sparks flooded my vision. Back on the concrete again, I tried blocking his fists, but they came faster than I could ward them off. The crowd roared. Some of them might have booed. My opponent hopped to his feet, and I rolled to my side, spitting out another mouthful of blood. I registered the impending strike to the kidney a second too late.

  Holy fuck, I was off my game. This fucking fight had psyched me out from the beginning, and if I didn’t get my head twisted on straight again, I’d lose.

  Not just lose. I’d pay with my life. Even worse, my son would pay with his life. And Alex…

  She’d be stuck with Zach forever—a fate worse than death.

  Gathering renewed strength, I jumped to my feet and stormed him. Rage and adrenaline rushed through me as I landed punch after punch before sending him to the ground. We struggled on the concrete for several intense minutes, both instinctively recognizing the importance of this moment.

  The finality of it.

  Sweat and blood dripped from my skin, and with a grunt, I maneuvered him into a chokehold, locking him in without the hope for escape.

  He thrashed the seconds away, a victim of futility. “Don’t,” he squeaked, his throat working hard under my vise-of-an-arm to get the plea out. His fingers dug into my flesh, nails breaking skin. “They’ll kill my girlfriend.”

  “If I don’t,” I said, tightening my hold, “my son is dead.”

  Will’s life had trumped Alex’s safety, and he sure as hell trumped this guy’s girlfriend. Maybe she was an innocent like Will—inculpable in whatever situation my opponent had gotten himself into. But she was an adult, and Will was just a kid. Out of everyone in my life, he was the most innocent, and he didn’t deserve to be used in Shelton’s sick game.

  Justification made, I increased the pressure on the guy’s throat, and as each second passed, his writhing died down. His desperation weakened, uncoordinated fists glancing off my temple. Five more seconds and those defensive blows stopped altogether.

  And I couldn’t let go. Long after the buzzer sounded, and Shelton unlocked and entered the cage, I remained in a state of purgatory. Neither free nor caged. Neither innocent nor guilty. I held on as long as possible because the instant I let go, and the guy in my arms refused to wake, it would become real.

  Inescapable.

  And I wasn’t ready to face the monster in the mirror.

  14. Rescue Squad

  Alex

  Through the wet, stringy curls hanging in my eyes, I glared at the tall blond standing next to Jax in the rain, crossing his muscled arms over a broad chest. Even in this torrential downpour, and despite the evening chill infiltrating the air, he wore a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his ink. The dude favored dragons, which didn’t give him any points since those tats reminded me of Zach.

  “I ain’t babysitting a woman,” he said, making me want to blast the condescending smirk off his face. “If I had my way, you would’ve stayed put on the island.”

  Another guy spit into the mud as he scanned the arsenal of weaponry in the cargo space before settling on a tactical shotgun. “Now you’re just pissing her off, man.”

  Their easy-going banter was about to piss me off, but then again, maybe I should take their relaxed nature as a positive sign. They seemed unworried about extracting Rafe, which was more than I could say for myself.

  “I don’t know, Rich,” the buff dude with the black ponytail said, snickering as he checked the suppressor on his semiautomatic. “I think she could take you.”

  “What is she…a hundred pounds soaking wet?”

  “She’s standing right here,” I said, refusing to back down. “And I’m going with you. Besides, it’s my husband in there.”

  “Lady, I don’t care if the president of the United States is chained up inside those walls. You’ll slow us down.”

  “I know how to shoot.”

  “There’s more to it than knowing how to handle a gun.”

  I was about to argue further when Jax gripped my shoulder. “We don’t have time for this. I know you can hold your own, but Rafe will have my ass if I put you in danger.” He gestured to the car where Angel waited inside, staying warm and dry. “Get in and stay put. Do you understand?”

  His authoritative tone burrowed underneath my skin, and I set my hands on my hips. “I don’t take orders from you.”

  Letting out an impatient exhale, he pushed back the shaggy hair matted to his forehead. “Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?”

  “Because I can’t stand the thought of sitting and doing nothing. That’s all I’ve done for the past six days!”

  “Look,” Jax said, voice softening as he took me by the shoulders. “You did do something. You survived.”

  “What if it’s too late?” My breath hitched. “What if they’ve hurt him?”

  “Either way, we’ll deal with it.” He stepped back, boots squishing in the mud. “But for now, I need you to stay in the car with Angel.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I can’t stop you, Alex. But once I get Rafe outta there, you and I both know he’ll give you an attitude adjustment.” Shooting me a pointed look, he yanked the door open. “We don’t have all night. Get inside before you freeze your ass off in this rain.”

  With a low growl, I slid into the backseat next to Angel, where I’d spent the last several hours trapped inside the vehicle on the trip over. Jax’s buddies hadn’t arrived on the island until late morning, and by the time we reached the area off the coast where Rafe was being held, the sun had almost kissed the horizon behind the cloud cover.

  Then we’d had to wait for dark.

  To say I was antsy was an understatement.

  Jax slammed the door shut, and he and the other three men in his rescue squad took off toward the large outbuilding half a mile away on the edge of an overgrown field.

  “Please bring him back to me,” I whispered to no one in particular.

  Angel shifted beside me. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  When most people said those words, they offered little more than platitudes. Useless syllables to fill the air. That didn’t hold true for Angel. Her voice remained steady, embolden by conviction because she believed what she said.

  I wanted to believe her too, wanted to subscribe to the same certainty that the night would give me the outcome I
prayed for—Rafe in my arms, unharmed, and his son safe.

  Keeping my attention glued to the tinted window and what lay beyond, I watched for any hint of the guys moving soundlessly through the night, but the landscape didn’t stir. With a sigh, I settled in for the wait, tucked out of sight in the brush, hidden under the cover of trees and darkness. The rescue squad had traveled in two black SUVs, and Angel and I sat in the second.

  The good little women.

  But every bone in my body screamed at me to follow in pursuit. I’d never been good at sitting around and doing what I was told. Over the past year, Rafe had punished me numerous times for my rebellious nature. This time was no different, and my hand hovered on the door handle, aching to pull the lever and fucking do something. Now that I knew where Rafe was, I couldn’t sit still.

  How could Jax expect me to?

  “Don’t do it,” Angel said, entwining her warm fingers with mine. “Jax can handle it. You just need to trust him.”

  Turning to face her, I raised a brow. “You obviously don’t have trust issues when it comes to him anymore.” She hadn’t hesitated in calling him by name, which was a big improvement from when I first met her several weeks ago, and she insisted on calling anyone with a penis by the name of Master.

  “He’s proven I can.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust him, Angel.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Nothing good has ever come when Rafe and I are separated. If he’s a prisoner inside that place, I want to be there too.”

  “I get that. Believe me, I do. But he’d want you to be safe, right?”

  Grudgingly, I nodded.

  “And you said yourself the two of you have a unique relationship.” She squeezed my hand. “I have faith Jax and the guys will bring him out, and when they do, I don’t want you to get punished for rash behavior…especially in your condition.”

  Sheepishly, I let my tangled curls hide my face. The things she knew about Rafe and me…

  But she was right. More importantly, I needed to be level-headed enough to put my child first. Except level-headedness and pregnancy didn’t mesh well.

  “I’ll give them thirty minutes.” Slowly, I relaxed into the seat, decision made.

  For now, at least.

  Digging Rafe’s cell from the pocket of my rain-soaked jeans, I noted the time. And just like yesterday morning, after I left Zach in the cellar, the picture of Rafe and me on my husband’s phone sent a blow to my gut.

  He’d taken the selfie over the summer in our private camping spot, where we’d found a grassy knoll that afternoon and had watched the clouds drift by, discovering hilarious characters in the white fluff as we lay side-by-side, heads touching.

  Two pairs of jade eyes met the camera head-on, displaying evidence of true happiness. God, we’d lived for each other. We still did, which made sitting on my ass while he was in trouble, just half a mile away, next to impossible.

  Ten minutes past my chosen deadline, I thought I saw movement. Leaning closer to the glass, eyes scanning the darkness for something—anything—I held my breath as hope bloomed inside my chest.

  Jax had found him.

  Rafe was coming back to me.

  My teeth chattered in excitement, and my knuckles whitened as I gripped the back of the front passenger seat.

  “Do you see them?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

  And then I saw it. A shift in the shadows about fifty yards ahead. Through the pelt of raindrops, I watched the shadows grow larger before materializing into the forms of four men…though one seemed to be carrying a bundle.

  A bundle too small to be Rafe.

  Hope plummeted to the bottom of my gut, and I scrambled from the vehicle, mindless of the wind blasting my too-chilled bones as the guy with the ponytail put a young boy into the backseat of the first SUV. He told the kid to stay put, and my eyes scanned the faces of the four men, throat constricting over the absence of one.

  “Where is he?” I demanded of Jax.

  He shook his head, apology in his eyes, and I felt my knees give out, sinking into the mud welcoming my boneless limbs.

  “No!” I cried in a breathless shriek. “You have to go back! Please. You guys missed him, or…or…”

  “Alex,” Jax said firmly, dragging me to my feet and gripping me by the shoulders. “We got the kid out, but we’re not done yet.”

  “Where is he?” I braced a hand on his arm to keep upright. “I mean…he’s okay, right? Please tell me he’s okay.”

  Jax drew in a long breath then exhaled. “We don’t know.”

  “You have to go back! Someone in there has to know something.”

  “They’re all dead.”

  “What?” I blinked. “You killed them all?”

  He jerked his head toward the outbuilding in the distance. “Got one to talk first.”

  That statement rang in my ears with the sound of hope. “Where is my husband, Jax?”

  He exchanged a careful look with the blond guy…the one they called Rich, and my heart bottomed out.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded through gritted teeth.

  “He had a fight tonight.” Swallowing hard, Jax let a tortuous beat pass. “According to Shelton’s guy, the fight’s a death match.”

  Oh my God.

  “You’ve gotta do something!”

  “Don’t you think I would if I knew where he was?” His voice rose several octaves, words punching me in the gut as he let go of my shoulder. Taking a step back, he ran a hand through his blond hair. “Only the higher-ups know where the fight is being held. All we can do now is wait for him to return.”

  But I heard what he didn’t say. Rafe might not come back at all.

  15. Field of Nightmares

  Rafe

  The vehicle bounced over uneven ground, tires spinning in the mud in some spots. My prison transport was a nondescript black sedan, four doors with leather seats. Not exactly the type of rig one needed to navigate overgrown, muddy terrain. Shelton sat behind the wheel while Military Dude sprawled on the backseat beside me, his weapon at the ready and serving as a constant reminder that I was screwed, though the fact they hadn’t pulled the hood over my head this time was reminder enough.

  Because I’d killed again, and if they didn’t own me before, they sure as hell owned me now. They’d trapped me in this for life. It was Shelton’s ultimate revenge—me, enslaved in death matches that would make him richer, and Alex enslaved to her worst nightmare.

  Even if I learned to accept our fate, I couldn’t accept it for my son. I had to find a way to get Will out of the equation of Shelton’s retribution.

  We parked on the edge of a field, and the guy next to me prodded his gun into my side. “Let’s go.”

  I slid from the car, boots sinking into dark sludge. The rain was letting up, but a shitload of mud caked the ground. The three of us trudged toward a large outbuilding in the distance, where I assumed they’d been holding Will and me. Shelton walked in front, while Military Dude brought up the rear of our trio.

  We’d gone maybe seventy-five yards when Shelton came to an abrupt stop. He tilted his head, listening for something, and it was then that I detected it too.

  Dogs barking.

  Cold dread slithered down my spine.

  “What the hell?” Military Dude said, halting behind me. “What’s up with the mutts?”

  With a frown, Shelton pulled out his weapon. “Could be a deer.”

  But he didn’t believe his own words, and I didn’t either.

  We resumed the journey across the field to my new home for the foreseeable future, each step a hair-standing occasion. My survival instincts were going haywire. With no moon to brighten the cloud cover, visibility was a bitch.

  But I still saw it.

  Shadows emerging from the overgrown field—two of them about fifteen feet on either side of where Shelton stalled in front of me. His head swiveled left then right, gun steady in his han
d as he took in the unfamiliar men that surrounded us.

  “Drop your fucking weapons,” said a voice from behind me. A voice I recognized.

  The cold press of Military Dude’s weapon bit into the back of my head, but the gun-cock I heard didn’t come from him.

  “We already killed the rest of your guys,” Jax said. “We don’t have a problem taking the two of you assholes out. Drop them now!”

  Shelton dropped his gun before lifting his hands in the air. “Stand down,” he told Military Dude.

  The guy at my back shifted, and I detected the thump of his weapon hitting the ground. Pulse ratcheting, I turned and stepped to the right, bringing Jax and another guy into full view.

  His gaze drifted over me, cataloging the mud and blood, and he raised his brows at the sight of my busted up face. “You okay, man?”

  “I’m alive.” I gestured toward the outbuilding. “How’d you find me?”

  “Alex got creative with a skillet. Your woman’s got balls.” He stepped forward and shoved Military Dude to where Shelton still stood with his hands in the air. “She dragged that fucker down to the cellar and locked him up. If not for her propensity for survival, I wouldn’t have known you guys were in trouble.”

  Pride for my wife rose in my chest. “They have my son.”

  “We already got him out.” As his buddies retrieved the dropped weapons, Jax nodded in the opposite direction of the outbuilding. “He’s with Alex and Angel.”

  “She’s here?” I glanced across the field, as if she’d magically appear in the overgrown grass, just like Jax and the other three men had.

  “Yeah, but before you run into her arms, what should we do with these assholes?”

  I shot a glance in Shelton’s direction, noting the furrow between his brows. He looked a little worried, and he should be. Jax passed me a handgun, and I sauntered up to the bastard.

  “I should toss your ass into the dog pit.”

  “Don’t be rash, Mason. We can make a deal. I’ve got money.”

  “You’ve got nothing I want.” I raised the gun, and his eyes widened, alarm registering an instant before I pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his skull, and Shelton dropped to the ground.