Page 24 of Keeping Her Under (Deranged Highway, #1)

Twenty-Four

“Here, let me see your face,” Asher says as he sits on the edge of the bed and tilts her chin to the side.

In his other hand, resting on his lap, is the gun we took to Ryan’s.

She whimpers as she tries to turn away, but there’s nowhere for her to go.

“It’ll heal,” he reassures her, his voice soft and caring.

She breathes out shakily.

“Unless, of course, you die today.” He says it so casually, it takes her a moment to register. Then she starts to cry.

“But the choice is yours. You can either do what we say and not get hit again, or you can get beat to death in your own bed.”

“And then fed to the dogs out back,” I add.

Asher glances over at me, a question in his eyes. Then he shrugs and looks back at her. “And that.”

She starts to cry harder, pure terror in her sobs.

She knows damn well what those dogs are capable of.

Their barks and snarls get louder. The sounds of their chains snap harder against whatever they are tied to.

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of them breaking free.

I doubt they’re small dogs we can run from, and Asher is the only one with a gun.

“Shhh,” he says as he strokes the side of her face that isn’t bleeding from my punches. “You have all the control. But first you need to stop crying so you can hear your choices.”

She tries to choke down her sobs. “What… what do you… wa-want from me?”

“It’s not what I want, love. It’s what you want.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I don’t care if you live or die today. That choice is yours.”

“I want to live!” she cries, hiccuping and sobbing hard.

“Then you’ll let our friend here fuck you.”

“W-what?”

“Did I stutter?”

She freezes as she stares up at him. Her face is twisted with so much shock, confusion, and fear. “I don’t want to fuck him.”

“Then that means you choose death.”

“I don’t –” She starts to sob again. “Please. Please don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not making you do anything. The choice is yours.” He stands up and moves away from the bed. “You can let him fuck you in the ass or pussy. You can choose missionary, doggie, reverse cowgirl – whatever you like the best. Everything’s up to you.”

“It’s not!”

“You have thirty seconds to choose.” He pulls out his phone and puts on the Jeopardy theme song. As the seconds play down, he turns to me. Our eyes meet, and he wordlessly asks me if I need to step out for this.

But despite the sickness crawling across my skin, I keep my feet rooted. For Summer, I will face all the darkest parts of me. So I can be better when she wakes. So I can become strong enough to face her demons rather than leaving them to Asher.

She is mine, and I will be the one to protect her.

Shifting his eyes to our hostage, my cousin grins. “You get a choice too, Doty.”

Dad of the Year. Cute. I look at him dryly. He winks at me before focusing back on “Doty.”

“You can either fuck her, or we can chain you up with the other dogs.”

He shrinks against the wall.

The Jeopardy song’s final note plays.

“Times up.” Pivoting on his heels, Asher lifts his gun and points it at the woman.

“I’ll do it!” she shrieks as she throws her arms over her head. Sobs wrack her, but Doty ignores her tears and shucks off his jeans and boxers. He jerks himself as he walks towards her, getting himself hard.

“Wait!” she says on a shudder. Sucking in a deep breath, she rolls over onto her side, then her front. She pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, then slides down her sweatpants to reveal a pink lacy thong. “Please let me keep them on,” she begs.

“Every choice is yours,” Asher assures her.

Doty climbs onto the bed. His weight makes it creak. Her fists dig into the blue sheets. He grabs her hip with one hand and his cock with the other.

“Not my ass!” she shrieks as she jerks forward.

I shock Doty through his collar, and he stiffens on a groan. When I release the button, he falls on top of her. She cries quietly as he takes a moment to breathe.

Asher cocks the gun, and the two of them jump back into motion. Grabbing his cock, Doty tugs on it, getting himself hard again. The woman pushes her ass towards him.

“Go in slowly,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Leaning over her again, he lines himself up with her pussy. He pushes in the tip, and she makes an uncomfortable noise. Grabbing both her hips, he slowly pulls her onto his cock. She whimpers. He grunts. She takes him inch by inch until her ass presses against his stomach.

“Remember the choice is to fuck him, not to be fucked,” Asher says. “So make sure to show some enthusiasm.” He’s pulled out a phone and has been recording them since Doty first stepped up to the bed. My cousin walks around to get a shot of her face.

She starts to cry even as she gets into a rhythm. The slapping of their hips is making me sick.

Although I knocked myself out with either drugs or alcohol before my mother’s boyfriends crept into my room, I often woke up to that awful sound.

The lights were off. I kept my head on my pillow.

Their body pressed down on me, but I was numb.

I could not feel them sliding into me, but I could always hear that fucking sound.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

Just as my memories start to become unbearable, Asher’s hand lands on mine. His presence grounds me. Looking into my eyes, he takes the remote out of my hand so I don’t accidentally shock Doty, then passes me his phone.

“Record them for me,” he says. Then he lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “Stay here, and do not move or make a sound. It’s almost Go Time.”

He shows me his phone. There’s a text with an update on Lance’s location; he’s heading back. He’s only a few blocks away.

I like how even when I lost control in the middle of it, Asher still picked up on my play. He got the two where I wanted them – fucking each other in Lance’s bed. Shaking my head, I hand him back his phone.

I want to do it.

Shrugging, he slips the remote into his pocket, then takes his cell. As he goes back to recording the two lovebirds, I walk over to the dresser and pull open the top drawer. Sifting through it quickly, I grab a matching set of red lace, then shove both pieces into my pocket.

As I head towards the living room, Asher hands me his pistol. Three feet away from the front door, I pull out the lacy red bra and drop it onto the floor. Crouching down, I lay the gun between it and the path to the bedroom. Next, the panties are left right outside the doorway.

When I step back into the bedroom, Asher hands me a needle filled with a sedative, taken from his bag. Given he’s on the left side of the door, I move to the right. He shows me his phone with the latest update. Lance is nearly home.

“Come on. Make some noise,” Asher says, and the two of them start to grunt and moan. “Louder!”

She fakes it like a pro.

One moan after another.

They’re too consumed by their own fear to hear the car pulling up outside.

But I hear every noise and play it out inside my head.

The door is shoved open, scuffing against the lino.

Lance is already pissed, suspicious of the car in his drive.

The door never swings shut. He’s too angry to think about it, having seen the red bra I’ve left for him to find.

He hears the moans coming from his bedroom.

Heavy footsteps proceed the scuff of a gun being picked up off the floor.

My heart races as I count down the seconds it’ll take him to reach the bedroom.

Three…

Two...

“You fucking whore! In my own bed!” he shouts as he charges into the room. Blinded by his rage, he doesn’t see me or Asher. All of his focus is on the man who’s balls deep in his girl.

Doty turns around in a panic.

Lance shoots him in the face. As Doty collapses to the floor, Lance walks forward, firing off shot after shot. A few of them slam into the floor.

The woman is screaming and scrambling back on the bed, trying to yank her pants up. “Lance!”

“You fucking whore!” He turns the gun on her.

“Wait!”

He shoots her in her chest.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

By the time the gun clicks empty, I’ve already snuck up behind him. I stab the needle into his arm and inject it all. He starts to turn. His legs give out, but Asher catches him before he can hit the floor.

Together, we haul him out of the house, careful not to drag him through any of the blood pools. We want the police to think Lance came home, caught his girl cheating, and murdered them in a fit of rage before going on the run. Case closed; no need to bother interviewing the neighbors.

We dump Lance into the trunk of our car, then dart back inside to clear all traces of us from the crime scene. Picking up the gun, I ask Asher if he has any more bullets.

“You’re not killing the dogs,” he says, able to read me so easily.

“He was going to have them eat her,” I growl.

“The dogs are innocent; it’s their owner who’s shit. Besides, I’m taking them home with me.”

“The fuck you are!”

“I’ll retrain them to protect Summer,” he says. “Fitting life for them, no?”

I grit my teeth. Arguing with him is pointless when it comes to animals.

Besides, we can’t hang around here, waiting for the cops to arrive.

The neighbors might keep to themselves, but someone would have called in an anonymous tip about the gunshots.

No one wants to wait until the bodies start to smell.

“How the fuck do you plan on taking them?” I ask in annoyance.

Asher smiles with a confidence I hate. “Oh, all dogs love me,” he says. “I’m sure they’ll hop right in the car.”