Page 71 of Boneyard HEA

“I know you do, and you will prove it by fucking her for us, while we film you, and the other girl, and maybe we get you to do some slicing and dicing with a little sharp knife, just to show what a ruthless man you are? Then you go away, merrily?”

The other girl? Someone else is here. I’m frowning, distraught at her predicament even though I’ve not seen her, while Shawn crawls his hand everywhere. I feel her torment as if I’ve already witnessed it because of my memories of what happened to Riley.

She has been alone here and suffering, while I have the company of Mr. Loxland and my own fucked-up annoyance at being made a victim by these two fucking assholes. I’d bite off their dicks right now if I could do it unpunished.

I’ve been stupid though—this must be my fault. Tears threaten to spill—part anger, part me being frightened. It’s a natural weakness.

I think Mr. Loxland blames himself too.

I stop myself from swearing or struggling at Shawn’s caresses. He would like that, and I cannot win. Or not now. I can’t win today. I prop myself up by telling myself I will get my vengeance. At the slightest opportunity, I will end them both. I will. I will. The more I say it, the more likely it will manifest.

“Cuff her properly, Shawn, hands at the front. Then you can hold the gun while I get Mr. Loxland to give me his hands at his back. Then we go to the fun room. Did you two know we named this the Evil House? It’s a great place in the middle of the mountains and no one knows we are here. No one at all. We’ve got you for as long as we want to keep messing with you.”

“Mess being a good word for you, hey?” Then Shawn sticks his fingers inside me and watches me wince before he flips me onto my stomach and cuffs my wrists together.

The casual amusement he shows while he assaulting me is daunting. The casual evil they both show.

These men aren’t just serial rapists, I think they’re serial killers.

That notion is punched home when we’re led into their fun room where the other woman is hanging from the ceiling by ropes tied about her breasts, hands, and neck. Blood trickles down her back while she spins slowly. It drips onto the bare concrete floor.

25

Aaron

They have us kneel on the hard floor while they advance on their other captive and start untying her. The young woman in this fun room, as they call it, is still alive. Her eyes are open, and she’s watching us through a tumble of red hair but is unable to do anything due to her arms being tied and hauled above her head. They’ve been whipping her back and worse, judging by the white stains on her legs.

This is what they intend to do to Juniper.

To make me do.

And if I don’t? Do we both die?

Or do they torture her until I simply must obey?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her, without turning my head.

She nods slightly. “Me too. They’re animals. No. Worse than animals. I bet they’ve been rehearsing this, honing their fucking skills, ever since they hurt Riley.”

They’ve got her on her belly and are unclipping chains and ropes but she’s barely moving. How long have they had her here? Weeks?

“Look, Mr. Loxland,” Zasha yells. “This could be yours, this sweet slut. Tomorrow, maybe. Hey? Once she’s cleaned up, hosed down.”

“Right now, she’s got a right sloppy cocktrough on her. You’d be drowning your dick.” Shawn hefts her body into his arms then heads past us. “Back in a tick, fella. Don’t start without me!”

They aren’t making me assault her. Not yet. I’m relieved and ashamed all at once, because I’d almost rather she die before tomorrow comes than be made to fuck her.

Zasha drags the chain that runs up to the ceiling lower down and adjusts a hook on it. I think I can guess what he means to do to Juniper. He pulls out a phone then goes to a phone tripod that’s waiting in the corner. “Lights are good. Though some nasty shadows would make this even better. Or blood?” He whistles as he adjusts the phone’s position on the stand.

I duck my head. “If I have to do something to you, and I swear I will try not to, please forgive me.”

“Huh.” She shrugs. “Can’t be worse than what you’ve done before. Just…” And now she gulps, and I see the trembling of her mouth. “Make me forget them? Make me like it.”

I close my eyes, steeling myself. “I’ll make you fucking love it, or else you’ll get a spanking, little psycho. A bad spanking, not one your masochistic heart will love.”

She inhales deeply, exhales, steadies herself. “Well, I might just misbehave for that. If I scream out no…” Now her voice is shaking.

“Just keep going? I will. You’re going to have the loudest orgasms ever.” I almost add, be brave, but I figure she’s doing that already in her head, and me saying it might break her. “Make them hate how much fun you’re having.”