25
After almost two weeks of being on my best behavior, I decide to try my luck. The backyard is great and having fresh air has been a godsend for my mindset, but I’m greedy. I want more.
I deserve more.
So I climb my naked little ass up into Manson’s lap and kiss him slowly, dragging his attention away from his phone. “Do you guys have to work today?”
“Yeah, waiting on Ash to hurry up back there,” he mutters against my mouth, then kisses me again. “Don’t have time for this unfortunately.”
He grinds up against me, staring down at my bare pussy with hungry eyes.
I’m almost a little offended he says he doesn’t have time.
“So take me with you and I’ll blow you in the backseat while he drives,” I offer. “Do you have time for that?”
When excitement lights up his eyes I know I’ve won... with him at least. Now we have to convince Ash.
“Yeah, definitely have time for that.”
Ash comes out before we can discuss it further, his hands feeling around his pockets like he’s making sure he has everything he needs. “Time for what?”
His gaze finds my bare ass, so I lift up just enough that he gets a better look. “Manson wants to take me on a little ride along so I can help him clear his head.”
“His head or his balls?” Ash jokes, he’s been doing that a lot more recently, and when he closes the distance to slide two fingers into my pussy, I think he might actually agree. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Is it though?” Manson pushes. “People don’t really like to cross us these days.”
“Maybe not, but some still do. It’d put her at risk.”
It’s not lost on me that they’re arguing about my safety, not about letting me leave the house. It puts hope in my chest. “How dangerous can it be? What do you guys even do for him?”
“It depends,” Ash responds, his fingers leaving my body so he can reach around and make Manson suck them clean. “Today we have to send a message. A harsh one.”
“So what, you’re gonna go threaten people?” I ask. “I can stay in the truck.”
They meet each other’s gazes and chuckle. “Something like that. If we have to use our guns... how are you gonna feel about that?”
I’ve been doing mental gymnastics trying to avoid the truth of what they do. I’ve seen the guns and the passports, heard them whispering to themselves, tended their wounds. Am I really ready to see it up close where I can’t deny it anymore?
“Can I have a gun?”
“There’s one in the truck. Do you mean one in your hands specifically?”
Manson leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’m okay with it.”
“The one in the truck is fine. I doubt I’ll need one, but if you’re worried it’s too dangerous, having access to one is a good thing. Right?” I ask, tangling my fingers in Manson’s hair. “Especially since you know I won’t use it against you.”
Something softens in his eyes as he nods. “Alright. Guess it can’t hurt having another pair of eyes watching our backs.” He doesn’t look particularly happy about me going, but he also doesn’t look angry, so I’ll take it as a win. “But you’ll be clearing my head on the drive home. Got it?”
That’s a lot of dick sucking just to get out of the house, but what’s the difference? I’d do it here anyway. “Understood. I’ll go get dressed.”
Manson grunts as I scramble off his lap and into my room, but even without a door, I can’t hear what he says to Asher. Their whispered mumbles don’t deter me in the slightest as I throw on some clothes and my old boots. I nearly put makeup on for the occasion but decide against it since I don’t have much left, so after I throw my hair up in a loose ponytail, I join them again in the living room. “Ready?”
Both of them check me out hungrily. Asher’s jaw is still tense, but he nods once and Manson moves in to throw an arm around me to lead me outside.
“You sure about this?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s not like I’ve never seen your darker sides before.” Manson with his controlling obsessiveness and Asher with his insidious violence. The ways they put pain and point-proving over what’s true, what’s right. I’ve seen the way they take, the way they break. The hatred and anger that drives them.
I’m not afraid.
It might be nice to see it directed at someone else for once.
“That’s... fair,” he chuckles, pausing for Asher to lock up the house behind us. “Just promise us you won’t get out of the truck, alright?”
“Under any circumstances. I’ll leave the keys in the ignition if things go south.”
In other words, I could hop in the driver’s seat and speed away to a new life if I absolutely wanted to. I’d be leaving them to die if whoever we’re meeting is as dangerous as they’re trying to say, but they’re giving me so much power in a situation I didn’t imagine I’d have any.
My, how things change.
I can’t lie. The urge to use it, to run far and fast until the truck runs out of gas and I can’t go any further on foot is strong. It eats at me, gnaws. But the last few weeks have shown me that things can be better. That what they want and what I want can coexist. I can serve them and still be a person, be powerless and still command the attention and respect of a queen. Trusting them is hard, but it’s better than dying of starvation. Especially if things continue to improve.
“Cuffs?” I ask. “I’m sure you already thought to grab the remote.”
Asher’s frown is the only response I get from him as he rounds the truck, and Manson opens the backseat door and helps me in before he responds. “Ash has the remote, no cuffs though. They would make you driving away to safety hard as hell, and although some may call us devils, we’re not monsters. Not all the time anyway.”
The truck rumbles to life as Ash meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I see it there. The fear, the reluctant trust that goes against every single one of his instincts. I don’t know how to help him. I’m not even sure I want to. So instead, I lick my lips and wink at him before bending over to pull Manson’s cock out.
A deal’s a deal, after all.
“Always wanted to have my dick sucked on the way to a job.” Manson pets my face, sliding his thumb along my lips almost lovingly before he pulls me down onto his lap. “Your step-brother always refused.”
“That’s because I prefer fucking after we’ve survived whatever the hell it is we have to do,” Ash says as he begins to drive, but Manson takes the time to moan loudly before he argues back.
“Yeah, but if we die, at least we got to come first.”
When Ash doesn’t respond I know it’s because Manson has a point.
And also because he’s jealous it won’t be him.
Something about that spurs me on to be a little more enthusiastic than normal — I’m always into it, but hearing Manson above me while the truck goes faster does something to me.
He can’t be too upset about it though, because he leaves the music off like he’s listening to my slurping, and I’d bet anything he’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white.
“Just like that, baby. Let me hear you choke.”
It’s almost funny how fast he blows once I do. The little shit even tries to tug me off to last longer but fails, so I swallow every drop before sitting up and putting my seatbelt on with a smile.
Cheeks flushed, I meet Asher’s eyes again. “Are we almost there?”
He nods, those intense greens locked on my lips as I lick them. “Gun is in the center console.”
Manson releases a deep breath, looking boneless and sated. Maybe Asher is right about not coming before a job, because I swear he looks like he’d rather nap.
The truck’s tires hit gravel and dirt, pulling my attention to my surroundings for the first time. How long has it been since I’ve seen the roots of a tree? The fence in the backyard is solid, and the front yard doesn’t have any that I can see through the window.
Here, trees are everywhere. All shapes and sizes, some completely bare already and some with leaves still hanging on. My fingers twitch with the urge to touch the bark. I remember what it feels like, but only just.
I open my mouth to ask them to pull over when the truck comes to a stop anyway.
Manson is fully awake now as he clumsily climbs into the front seat, and when they both check their guns, my heart rate spikes. “Stay quiet in here, okay?”
“Promise us,” Ash adds, making the hair on the back of my arms stand up.
“I promise. I’ll stay quiet.”
“Good girl.”
I feel the praise more than I hear it, because with Asher, it’s rare.
“We’ll be right back.” Manson tosses me a wink I know is meant to calm my nerves, but I think it just makes them worse.
They should probably be taking this more seriously.
With something akin to bated breath, I watch them swagger toward a rundown cabin that I barely noticed before. The moss covering the wooden planks is so thick it just about blends into the forest around it, making me wonder who the hell would live in such a place. Do they like the faerie aesthetic, or are they that desperate to stay hidden?
Judging by the three absolute degenerates who come outside to greet them, I’m gonna assume they’ve never even heard of faeries. Their faded jeans and dirty black shirts are full of rips and holes, their boots are muddy and untied. Two of them are sporting scraggly, ragged beards, and the third has a tattoo covering most of his left cheek. Normally I try not to stereotype or jump to conclusions, but I barely have to stumble into this one. They’re definitely criminals.
And one of those criminals just pulled a gun on my stepbrother.
I barely have time to scream before shots ring out so loudly, I have to cover my ears. It’s been a while since I’ve heard a gunshot so close, but not long enough. The sound is jarring, piercing. Nothing ever quite prepares you for how loud it truly is when you’re only twenty feet away.
Both bearded men are now on the ground as the one with the tattoo raises his hands in surrender. Ash is limping as he moves closer, I can see it. He’s hurt. Without thinking, I push the truck door open and stumble out, drawing the attention of all three of them. I don’t know what my plan is or what I’m doing, but there are dead guys on the ground and my head is swimming.
“What the fuck?” Manson growls just as Ash aims his gun at the third man again.
“Wait, please!” he begs. “I didn’t pull my strap. That has to mean someth— don’t kill me too. Please.”
Manson moves closer to Ash like he’s trying to get his attention, but my brother is staring unblinkingly as his target pisses himself. “We can’t, bro. Only one was supposed to drop, and we took out two.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
He nods toward me, and when I meet Manson’s eyes I can tell he agrees with him, but he also knows they’re on a job. “What message does it send if we take out all of Creed’s lackeys? What will he do to us?”
“Yeah,” the guy chimes in. “Come on, you can’t kill me too. He needs me.”
“Bullshit,” Asher hisses, but he’s finally blinking again. “He saw her.”
“I know, and we’ll deal with that in due time.”
“What does that mean?” They both yell at him to shut up, and after he flinches away in fear, his attention flicks to me. I swear he’s trying to memorize my face as quickly as he can, and when my brother hits him with the butt of his gun I watch him fold into himself as he falls unconscious.
“Why the fuck did you get out?” Asher limps toward me angrily, looking more menacing than he probably should. Like a pissed off little pirate.
“You were shot,” I say flatly. “I just... you were hurt.”
Freezing, he stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “What?”
I don’t fucking know. I shouldn’t care. Even now, I shouldn’t care. But now my fingers are twitching to reach out for him, not some random tree as I repeat, “I got out because you were hurt.”
He glances down at his leg as if he’s just now realizing he’s injured, and Manson rushes over to pick me up and carry me to the truck again. “Damn, pet. You really know how to make an entrance. Ash will be alright, okay?”
“Good, yeah. Of course.” I don’t fight him as he tosses me in the backseat, or when Asher gets in and slams the door. I don’t say a word until we’re back on the highway and safely away from what just happened. “Still need your head cleared? Or...”
Sighing, he turns to look at me, grunting in pain when he stretches out his right leg. “Come here.”
I lean in to reach for his cock, but he grabs me and pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him instead. The way he wraps his arms around me and buries his face into my neck has me coming up short.
He just wants comfort, and for possibly the first time in our lives, he’s seeking it from me knowing I’ll give it.
How the hell did we get here?
His erratic heartbeat begins to slow the longer we drive, and when I hear his breathing regulate I realize how hard he is under me. He seems to notice too, because with a pained grunt he grinds himself against me.
As carefully as I can, I tug my boots off and lift up to shimmy out of my pants. My head knocks against the roof, but by the time I’m getting back into position, Asher’s ready to sink inside me. Everything else fades as he pushes himself in, surprise lighting up his face when he realizes how wet I am. “Rhea,” he moans, rolling himself deep. “Dripping for me already? Did it turn you on seeing me shoot people?”
I didn’t want to look that fucking closely at it, but here we are. “Maybe. Maybe it was nice seeing you hurt someone else instead of me. How fucked up does that make me?”
“It doesn’t make you fucked up, it makes you ours.”
Ash leans in to suck on my neck as his hands guide me, his teeth and rough sucking surely leaving marks in their wake.
Theirs.
With the violence, the danger, the... everything. The constant fear, the longing, the hope.
The fucking little bastard thinks he owns me.
Maybe he does.
Clenching tighter, I ride him faster, harder as I reach back and place my hand over his wound.
Grunting, Ash flinches away from the jolt of pain briefly before he pushes back into it, and when he comes hard a second later I realize just what that pain did for him. “Fuck.”
He definitely didn’t mean to come that fast, but now I’m two for two. Chuckling, I roll my hips until he’s spent and given me every drop, then lean in to kiss the tip of his nose. “Good boy,” I whisper, chest tightening as reality starts to set in. I always knew they were dangerous, knew they hurt people and didn’t think twice. But they killed people here, and judging by their reactions, it’s not the first time by a long shot.
Does that make them serial killers? And if it does... what in the hell does that make me?