Betrayed Page 5

  “Fuck that. Fucking tie her up or something.” Benny turned away.

  In a single move, Jase shoved Brook aside and grabbed Benny by the throat. “Don’t give me no shit. You do what I say or you’ll never do nothing. You understand?”

  Benny choked. “Sure, Jase. I’ll do it. But how about I just sleep with her?”

  “Damn straight you’ll do it, and no, you won’t sleep with her. You fucked up by bringing her here; you’ll sleep on the fucking floor. You’re on fucking guard duty, you stupid dick.”

  Before Jase returned Brook to her prison, he stared intently at the cowering woman. “Let me give you a little advice. You don’t want to try running off again. You see, I got me a brand new chainsaw and I’ve been faunching at the bit to try it out. I bet it would slice through your legs like a fucking hot knife through butter. How far do you think you could run without any feet? You just keep that there in mind.” He looked at Benny and then at Brook. “Now don’t be causing Benny no trouble or I might have to cut something off of him too.”

  He glared at Benny as he shoved Brook through the doorway. “Tomorrow, you put a fucking lock on this door. I don’t want to be woke up again.”

  Jase moved down the hallway toward his own room.

  Cursing, Benny tossed the couch cushions onto the floor outside the bedroom. He slammed the door closed, mumbling, “Should have dumped the bitch before. Should have shot her in the fucking head.” Before long, he began to snore.

  Brook crept back onto the filthy mattress and burrowed under the edge. She pulled it up over her body, finding comfort in the weight, a sort of security she did not feel on top of the mattress. As the storm raged outside the window, she cried silent tears.

  Her mind in a frenzy, she envisioned breaking the window with the chair, squeezing between the bus and the side of the house, and dropping to the ground. Running. But logic told her the plan wouldn’t work. There couldn’t be more than six inches of space. Even if she was able to make it out the window, she would more than likely become wedged, trapped. She wouldn't put it past these monsters to leave her there until she perished.

  In another fantasy she imagined breaking the window, wrapping the broken shards of glass in a torn up piece of sheet for a handle, and stabbing her way to freedom, jabbing, slicing. Jase would be the first she would cut. She would watch his blood flow over her wrist and hand, relish the look of surprise on his face. But she soon recognized the lunacy of that plan as well. They would kill her for sure. Probably with the same piece of glass. Weighing heaviest on her mind was Jase's threat to use a chainsaw on her. Brook pulled her knees to her chest, held her feet in her hands, and imagined him cutting them off. There was no doubt in her mind he was cruel enough to do it.

  Panic sent her into a quiet hysteria. After an indeterminate time, her crying eased and finally subsided. Her breathing slowed, and she fell into exhausted sleep. The storm raged on outside and then spent itself. Silence reigned.

  Chapter 8

  Lance pulled Old Reliable as far off the road and up into the trees as he could. After packing the travois, he covered the truck with camouflaged netting. Hefting the first load, he set out for home. Bruised purple clouds hung low over the mountains. Lance measured the sky with a knowing glance. All hell was about to break loose; he was certain of it. He hated to leave his truck here, but he doubted he would have time to finish unloading all his purchases, get Old Reliable to town, and ride his bike back before the rain hit. I should have left earlier, he thought, or not dawdled in the stores.

  When he reached the cabin with the second load, Gilbert was waiting for him, her head cocked expectantly. He was glad to see her. It would make this chore much easier and faster. She approached Lance and reared up on her hind legs, placing her front legs on his shoulders. He felt the bite of her hooves through his jacket, and laughed as she nearly knocked him off balance. This was a ‘Gilbert hug’ and Lance appreciated it, although it could be a bit overwhelming.

  “Whoa, girl.” Lance released the travois and backed away, allowing her to drop to the ground. She began nudging his side, trying to nose into his pocket. With a gentle touch, he pushed her away.

  “Now, you know better than that.” He patted the firm wedge of her neck, avoiding the sharp tips of her curved horns. He sometimes wished he had dehorned her when she was young, but he hadn’t wanted to leave her defenseless in the wild, and Gilbert did like to roam. She had an incurable case of wanderlust, but she always came home. His other goat, Belinda, did not rush to greet him. She never did.

  “Work first, treats later.” He gave Gilbert a final pat before sliding off his heavy backpack and unloading the travois. Gilbert strolled around him as he worked, but Belinda hung back, peering at him with her odd yellow eyes. She had never warmed to Lance like Gilbert had. As a result, he hadn’t grown attached to her like he had to Gilbert. But she would produce for him, and in return he would take care of her.

  He stacked the food items inside the cabin and grabbed the small harness from a peg near the door. Retracing his steps to the road, Gilbert following, Lance dragged the empty travois down for the last load. He threw back the netting and pulled the bales and feed from the back of the truck and loaded it onto the travois. Gilbert pried a mouthful of alfalfa from the bale, giving Lance a sneaky look as she did so.

  “I saw that,” he told her with mock sternness. She gave her head a nonchalant toss, and stood still while he harnessed her to the loaded travois. He covered Old Reliable with the netting once again. It wasn’t a perfect camouflage, but she would be difficult to spot if a person wasn’t specifically looking for her. A light mist fell as Lance finished tying his purchases down; the pressure in the air swelled uneasily. He took a deep satisfied breath, drawing the tangy ozone smell into his lungs. Mountain thunderstorms always rocked his senses with their deep rolling booms, like massive explosions, so close it felt like he was standing in the heavens between warring clouds. The sense of anticipation worked on him like a drug as the earth prepared to be pounded, waiting impatiently for its thirst to be quenched. The scent of the trees and plants reached toward the coming rain as pheromones to a lover. For Lance, it was a full-body sensation when Mother Nature yanked up her stormy skirts and danced her brazen jig across the land. He could never get enough.

  With a sound like a thousand wild horses thundering through a high pass, the storm arrived. Lance delighted in the rumbles, felt them reverberate in his bones, and thought of God. Gilbert seemed unimpressed with nature’s outburst, but she picked up her pace and they almost made it back to the cabin before the rain fell in sweeping sheets.

  Lance unhitched Gilbert at the door of the shed. Pulling the candy bar from his pocket, he quickly peeled away the wrapper, and gave her the sweet treat. He could swear she smiled as she took it from his hand. Chewing, she ambled into the shed. Belinda was already inside and gave him a baleful glare as if to admonish him for being silly enough to stand out in the rain. Her bossy attitude made him grin, even as the icy water ran down his face and inside his jacket. He tugged the bales and feed into the other side of the shed and filled the goats’ trough through the slot he had built into the structure for just that purpose. Before heading to his cabin, he tucked the travois inside the shed and shut the doors, protecting the feed on one side, and safely enclosing the goats on the other side. They could wander tomorrow, but tonight they would be sheltered and cozy.

  On his way back to the cabin, he closed the door on the small poultry shed and secured it against predators. He heard the soft rustling of wings, and a hen scolded him for the disturbance with a few quiet clucks. The ducks were hopefully ensconced with the chickens, but it was too dark to tell.

  His muscles ached pleasantly, the result of honest hard work. He was tired, and that’s the way he liked to end his days. Tired, too tired to think. Too tired to remember. Tomorrow he would take Old Reliable into town and retrieve his bike. For tonight, he wanted only dry clothes, a hot meal, a book to make him drowsy, a
nd his soft warm bed.

  Chapter 9

  Morning arrived. Its weak light barely penetrated the grimy window glass, leaving the room dim and cold. Brook slowly became aware of the sounds of a waking household. Someone said they needed coffee. Someone else swore, telling them to make it themselves. Brook remembered where she was and cowered deeper under the mattress. A sour smell filled her nostrils, and with a shock of embarrassment, she realized it was coming from her own body.

  She could hear kitchen noises; pots and pans were banging against each other and cabinet doors opened and shut. Obviously, breakfast was being taken. Brook's stomach growled its willingness to eat, but she suppressed the need. Food wasn’t what she needed right now. What she needed was to escape from this hell.

  The door to the room crashed open and heavy footfalls crossed the threshold. "What the fuck!” Jase’s voice blared. “Where the hell did the bitch go?”

  “What?” Benny asked, drawing nearer. "Hey, where did she go?”

  “That’s what I asked you, dumbfuck!” Jase retorted.

  Brook held her breath; maybe they wouldn’t find her. Maybe they would think she escaped and go looking for her; then, she could sneak away.

  “Hold on,” Benny said. “What’s that lump by the wall?”

  An instant later, Brook felt the mattress pulled from her. She remained still, huddled beneath the blanket. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, like a child hoping they wouldn’t see her if she couldn’t see them. But, of course, she wasn’t a child, and she knew full well they could see her.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jase exclaimed. “I thought the bitch was gone.” He laughed. “I thought there for a minute I was gonna have to fuck you.” He punched Benny in the arm.

  “What the fuck ever,” Benny grouched. “I’m gonna get something to eat.” He left the room.

  Jase pulled the blankets from Brook and backed up a step. “Holy-hell! You look like shit warmed over.” He waved his hand in front of his nose. “And you stink! Gina,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  After a minute, Gina, poked her head through the door, nibbling on a piece of buttered toast. “What the fuck do you want now?”

  “Clean this bitch up,” Jase commanded.

  “You clean her up,” Gina said and turned away.

  “Pete!” Jase bellowed.

  Pete entered the room and glanced at Brook. “Shit,” he commented. “She don’t look so good today. Look at her fuckin’ eye!”

  “Get your old lady to clean her up and tell her not to backtalk me no more,” Jase said in a tone that left no room for argument. “I’m sick of her balking at orders. Her ass shouldn’t be here anyway.”

  Pete ducked out the door and Brook could hear a muffled conversation coming from the hallway. A few minutes later Gina returned, her face flushed with anger. With a scornful look, she turned her eyes to Brook. “Get your ass up and into the can.”

  Brook crawled to the wooden chair in the corner and used it to get to her feet. She dragged the sheet up and attempted to cover herself as she moved to the door, but Jase yanked it away.

  "What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You ain’t got nothing to hide. Shit! You don’t need to cover up. We already seen everything you have.” He laughed uproariously and walked away.

  Gina wadded the remainder of her toast into a ball and hurled it at Jase’s retreating back, but missed. She followed Brook into the restroom and slammed the door behind them. “I ain’t cleaning your ass up; you can do it yourself. She sat on the side of the tub to wait.

  Brook lowered herself onto the stool. As she urinated, pain flared between her legs, burning like acid. She finished and wiped herself, noting the blood on the tissue as she did so. Brook groaned and stood. “What do I use to clean myself?” she asked.

  “God damn,” Gina grumbled as she got to her feet, opened a cabinet, and tossed Brook a tattered washcloth. “Hurry the fuck up.”

  Brook turned to the shower, but Gina stopped her. “Uh unh.” She shook her head. “No shower. Just wash up.”

  Brook wet the rag at the sink and wrung it out. She peered into the mirror as she wiped her face. Her eyes were swollen, one nearly closed completely, and her face puffy. Her lips were bruised. She drank from the faucet, gulping the liquid like it was a life-line. It hit her empty stomach and sloshed around uncomfortably. For a horrible moment, Brook thought she was going to vomit, but her stomach settled enough to keep the liquid down.

  She re-wet the rag, liberally this time, and used the cloth to wipe her hair, combing through the tangled mess as best as she could with her fingers. She scrubbed under her arms, and then began to clean her breasts. The cut bled a little as she cleaned it, but it wasn’t deep.

  Agony pulsed through her as she washed between her legs, but nothing compared to the pain between her buttocks. She tried to muffle her cries. She rinsed the rag multiple times but she still felt filthy; was filthy.

  Once more, she tried to appeal to Gina. Turning to face the girl, she pleaded, “Please help me get out of here. I’ll get you money. All the money you want. You don’t even have to tell anyone I gave it to you. Please.”

  Gina snorted. “You’re an ignorant bitch, aren’t you? Do you think I need your money? We have plenty of money. Plus, we got the cash from your purse, and your credit cards. I should be able to pick up some nice shit before anyone figures it out.”

  “You have money?” Brook couldn’t hide her disbelief. “What about this house? You can’t have much money if you live here. But, I can buy you a house, a big beautiful house.”

  “This ain’t my house, stupid; it's Jase's. We just hang out here when the guys have a bunch of jobs to do. Makes it easier to plan shit. We ain’t fuckin bums, you know. God damn it anyway, just get your ass back to the bedroom.” She opened the door and shoved Brook through.

  Back in the room of her torment, Brook pulled the filthy sheet around her body and peered through the window again, trying to determine if she had missed anything, if she could get out by breaking the glass. Maybe the bus wasn’t as close to the window as she thought. Pressing close to the glass, Brook looked up and down and to both sides, but she'd been right; it was much too near to squeeze past. She wouldn’t be getting out this way.

  Brook gasped aloud as the sudden memory of the clothes in the closet hit her full force. How could I have forgotten there were clothes? Throwing off the sheet, she darted to the closet and began snatching things at random. She came up with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, both too small. She squeezed into them nonetheless and immediately felt more in control, though she knew the feeling was only an illusion.

  Dressed, she determined to attempt another escape. It was worth a try, even if she failed. Maybe they were all in a different room or distracted by something. Putting her ear against the wall, she listened, but heard nothing. Maybe they were outside and she could slip away like a shadow. Although Benny had put a lock on the door, he had used a simple hook and eye and hadn’t done a good job of installing it. It was too large and Brook could open the door far enough to flip the lock open with her little finger. So, the door was no trouble. All she had at her disposal was stealth, and she planned to use it. She could slip right out of the house before anyone was the wiser.

  She moved cautiously to the door and was reaching for the handle when it opened, startling her. Jase walked in with his penis in his hand. “Say hello to Big Mack,” he announced. “He’s making a house call. Come to see how Missus Pussy is holding out.”

  Brook backed up, but there was nowhere to go.

  It took a moment for Jase to realize what he was seeing. He came to a dead stop. “Where the hell did you get those clothes?” he demanded, erection forgotten and swinging in front of him. He hollered over his shoulder, “Gina! Did you give the bitch any clothes?”

  “No,” came a distant answer. In a moment, Gina’s sallow face appeared in the doorway. The instant her eyes fell on Brook, she flew into a rage. “Those are my fucking clothes! Get them off!�
� Rearing on Jase she screeched, “I told you not to put her in my room in the first place!”

  Gina started toward Brook, but Jase put up an arm and blocked her. He kept his gaze on Brook.

  “Didn’t you hear me say you don’t need no clothes around here?” The look on Jase’s face froze Brook to the spot. “You just fucked up big time. You’re gonna pay for this.”

  He gave Gina a shove towards the door. “Get the fuck out, bitch! You’re starting to annoy the shit outta me.”

  But Gina was furious. Shaking with rage, she growled, “Not until she takes my clothes off!”

  “Oh, she’ll take them off, don’t worry none about that,” Jase said. “Now get the fuck, out of here.”

  Gina, finally hearing the threat in Jase’s tone, left. She threw Brook a hateful look before slamming the door on her way out.

  “Take them off,” Jase said, an odd gleam in his eye as he turned back to Brook. “Real slow. Sexy-like. Give me a little strip tease.”

  “No!” Brook dropped to the floor, one arm held up in a protective posture.

  “NO!” Jase bellowed. “NO?!

  Brook quaked. “I don’t know how,” she said in a little girl’s voice.

  “You have about one second to learn.” Jase’s voice was husky. He took himself in hand again and began a slow stroke. “And you better make it good. Real entertaining.”

  Brook struggled to her feet. She swayed unsteadily back and forth, hoping if she moved, it would keep him from hurting her more. She began removing the clothing, slowly, sobbing as she did so. Her movements felt jerky and awkward.

  “Good,” he said. “Keep going. Turn around and bend over. Now slide off those jeans; show me that butt. Do a good job, and maybe I'll go easy on you.”

  Terrified and embarrassed, Brook did what he asked. When the clothes were removed and tossed aside, Brook stood before Jase, arms crossed over her body.

  “I could surely use a blowjob,” Jase stated in the same tone he might say he could use some food or sleep.