Chapter 22
Quinn
Two down, one to go. I watched Zane storm off. I could tell my actions had messed with his head. Whether it was in a good or bad way was yet to be determined. I was resolved to stay alive one way or the other, and let’s be honest, there could be worse ways to deal with being held captive than having my pussy obliterated by three sexy men.
I was surprised that he just took itthe wayhe did, though I shouldn’t have been. I laid myself open like a tunnel, waiting for the train to passthrough. I supposed I was wrong about him, like I was wrong about the other two.
Either way, I was going to continue with my plan. The guys said they would let me go when they were finished with their murder spree. Hopefully, by fucking their brains out, they would keep their word. I longed for the day I could walk through those gates as a free woman. Eventually, Zane returned and tossed something at me through the bars of my cell. It sank into the beanbag couch, and I picked it up cautiously. It was a tablet.
“It’s not hooked up to the Internet, but there are games on it and a few books.” He shrugged. “If you don’t mind reading post-apocalypse, it’s all I read.”
Glancing down at the tablet, I couldn’t help but smile. Finally, I had something to do. I had never read post-apocalypse novels before, but to alleviate my boredom, I’dgive them a try.
Nodding, Zane turned on his heels and walked away.
Two days passed since the men had spent any time with me. Usually, they would show up, toss me some food, and then leave. While I was reading an epic battle scene in one of Zane’s books, Keith clanged something on the door. Setting the tablet down, I looked up.
“Time to wash your butt,” he announced with a grin.
I got to my feet and ran my hand through my hair. I could use a shower. My hair was greasy, my skin felt gross, and I was sure I smelled like shit as well. Opening the door, Keith approached the other end of the chain and unhooked me. With haste, I made my way towards the entrance of the funhouse, then stopped short as a gust of cold wind hit my body. Shivering, I rubbed my arms. The guys had a space heater inside, so I hadn’t realized just how cold it had gotten.
I suddenly decided I didn’t really want a shower.
Turning around, I slammed into Keith, who grunted, “What the hell?”
Stepping back, I looked up at him. “I’m not taking one of your redneck showers. It’s fucking cold.”
Gripping my shoulder, he spun my body around and shoved me forward. “Keep moving, Sweet Pea.”
Rolling my eyes, I dragged my feet. I was beginning to hate that nickname. As we walked through the tall grass, I noticed he hadn’t stopped me at the usual shower spot. Instead, he walked ahead towards the gift shop. He tugged hard on the chain when I hesitated, almost causing my knees to give out.
Timidly, I followed. When the lights flicked on, my eyes widened, and my jaw fell slightly. The gift shop had been completely remodeled. The counter that once held the old cash register and some of the shelves had been torn out. Off in the corner was a queen-size mattress on a box spring with really tacky, bright pink, silky-looking blankets. Across from it sat a TV with an old Sega Genisis and a box of games. A few feet from that was an old treadmill that I hoped worked. The rest of the room caused goosebumps to prickle my skin, and my hair stood on edge. Beyond the bed was a strange wooden contraption with padding in specific places. Chains and cuffs hung from the top and bottom. Beyond that was something attached to the ceiling, a sex swing. I had never used one before but had seen them in movies and in sex shops.
I looked at Keith, who only smiled, running his finger along his lower lip. I hated and loved that pose all at the same time. It was the same look all those super sexy guys had in books and magazines when they wanted to look alluring. Mission accomplished. Tilting his head, he nodded towards the bathroom. “Come on, Sweet Pea.”
After eyeballing the swing one last time, I followed Keith, who held out his hands to show off his newest redneck design. I had to give him credit; it was creative. Somehow, he, and possibly the other guys had made me a homemade shower. There was a small kiddy pool sitting on the ground; hanging from the ceiling was a hook that held the hose, and instead of a milk jug, there was now an actual shower head.
“Crafty,” I complimented, not knowing what else to say.
“Wash your ass,” he said, promptly leaving.
After he closed the door, I looked around the room. A beach towel hung over the sink, and there were bottles of women’s body wash and shampoo. Turning on the water, I waited for it to heat up to my liking, grabbed the soap, and stepped in. I needed to ask them for a loofa or washcloth. Rubbing the soap off with just my hands wasn’t going to get out the ingrained grime and filth.
When the water started to cool, I stepped out and patted my hair with the towel before wrapping it around my body. The guys must have a plan to empty the water from the pool. At least it wasn’t my problem.
Stepping through the door, I watched Keith jump to his feet. As cocky as ever, he yanked the towel from my body and gave my naked form a once-over. “Why bother to cover up? I like looking at your body.”
It took everything in me to resist the natural urge to cover myself. It wasn’t because I was shy; after all, he and his two lackeys had seen me naked, and each of them had felt every inch of my body. I supposed I wanted to cover up so he wouldn’t get his way. I knew I needed to keep him happy to stay alive, but I was tired of giving in. I needed some form of control back.
Slowly, he gripped my pussy with his hand. I gasped, and he leaned forward, his nose only inches from mine. “I hope you don’t stay too entertained with that Sega over there. I kind of like it when you get bored.” He ran his lips along my jaw and whispered in my ear, “I heard Zane had a really good time the other night, too.”
A soft breath slithered through my lips as a finger entered me, and his thumb swirled around my clit. His lips brushed mine for a moment until a ringtone went off in his pocket, my ringtone.
Groaning, Keith rolled his eyes and stood up straight. He took out the phone from his back pocket and read, “Amree.” Annoyed, he handed it over. “Put it on speaker, and remember, if you’re a good girl, you’ll make it out of this alive.” He pulled something from his other pocket. I tensed when I stared down at the barrel of his revolver: “ If not…”
Swallowing hard, I answered the phone, my eyes still locked on the weapon in his hand. “Hello?”
“Where the hell have you been, hooker? I figured you’d be a little pissed at us, but damn, you’re just going to ghost our asses? I have been by your apartment about five times. Where are you?”
My eyes shot up to Keith, who had a stern look on his face. I swallowed. “I’m out of town.”
“At your parents?”
“No,” I stated, maybe a little too quickly. Pausing, I tried my hardest to keep the tension out of my voice. “I’m with one of the guys. There was a motorcycle rally out of state they invited me to. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
There was a long silence. “You just up and left with these guys to go to another state...? ...Quinn, are you alright?”
My eyes instinctively flashed to Keith’s warning expression. “I’m fine, Am. I’m having fun, actually.” That was the biggest lie ever. “I have to run, though; I’ll call you when I get back.” She agreed, and I hung up, handing the device back to Keith.
Putting the gun and phone away, he ran his hand along my face. “Good girl.”