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My belly in knots, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach the food, so I dished up two bowls and carried them to the table. “Food’s ready.”

Jax scraped a chair across the floor and sat down. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and pulled out a pocketknife to slice it. My attention lingered on that knife, on the blade slicing through the proverbial forbidden fruit.

I envied that apple.

Rafe entered the room, startling me from my fixation on the knife, though the image stuck to my brain like crazy glue. He joined Jax at the table.

“You get him on the phone?”

Sliding the cell across the table, Rafe nodded.

“That must have been an interesting conversation.”

“Kept it short and anonymous. I told him I had info on Nikki, and if he wanted to know more, he’d better wait for a call tomorrow and have some of his guys ready ‘cause something’s going down.” Rafe absently pulled the bowl of chili closer. “Trust me. He’ll be on his toes waiting.”

I set the rolls on the table, and a chill traveled down my spine at the mention of Nikki. She’d been Rafe’s girlfriend at one point, and now she was dead.

Because of my lie.

I went to move away, but Rafe grabbed my arm.

“Aren’t you eating?” His gaze swerved between the food and me.

“I’m not hungry.”

Shaking his head, Jax let out a low whistle. “She’s anorexic, man.”

“What?” Rafe bolted upright, and I shrank back, pulling from his grasp. His expression softened, and he reached out a hand. “C’mere. I’m not gonna hurt you. I was just caught off guard and…”

“Angry with me.”

He grabbed me around the waist and sat back down, planting my ass on his lap. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“I didn’t,” I said, but Jax snorted. I shot him a glare. “You think you know all about me, but you don’t.”

He held his hands up. “If you say so.”

I returned my attention to Rafe. “After what happened with Zach, my dad admitted he’d manipulated me into believing I had a problem with anorexia. Some people stress-eat. I do the opposite.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To protect Zach, I guess. He made me think I was sick so he could shut me away in a treatment center.”

Rafe pushed his bowl away. “I’m not eating until you do. How’s that for manipulation?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

“Your father is an ass. He probably did play you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to eat. You’re not starving yourself under my watch.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve said that before, haven’t I?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “That’s why I made you eat off the floor.”

My breath caught in my throat. His memories were slowly trickling in, and the idea of him regaining those missing years excited and scared me in equal amounts. I slid from his lap. “I’ll fix myself a bowl.”

“Good girl.” He smacked my ass. Hard.

I peeked over my shoulder, expecting to find a teasing grin curving his mouth. Instead I found the glint of dark temptation dilating his pupils. His green eyes were a deep jade. I recognized that look. I hadn’t seen it in a while, but that right there was the guy who’d bent me backwards on the island. The man who’d promised pain, indefinite imprisonment, and a thirst for my tears.