“Clumsy bitch,” he muttered, shutting and locking the door. He’d made her throw away her phone a few miles back, but she could still feel Quinn’s phone digging into her breast. Maybe she should try to hide it somewhere. Just in case he stripped her.
Who was she kidding? He would strip her. She could see it in his eyes.
Lord, she hoped Nash and Quinn were following her.
Otherwise she was in a world of trouble.
Crista looked around the tiny cabin, surprised by how run-down and dirty it was. Andrew had always been so meticulous about everything. His home, his appearance, her place. He’d taken great enjoyment in pointing out anything he thought was wrong with her place—the bed wasn’t made correctly, there was dust on the windowsill, she’d folded her towels wrong. What had she ever seen in him?
“I’ve had to live here because of you, Crista. This is the only place I could find at short notice where there were no close neighbors.”
“You rented this?” she asked.
He gave her a withering look. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t pay for this shithole.”
“Then where is the owner?” She attempted to take a step back but he held her arm tight. Crista winced, stumbling as he drew her closer.
“How the fuck would I know? And I don’t care. We’ll be leaving soon.” He looked her up and down. “Although we’ve got some time. Strip.”
“S-sorry?” she asked.
“Strip, bitch. I’m not going to tell you again.” He shoved her back against the wall.
Crista took a deep breath, trying to still her panic. She did not want to be naked in front of him. Plus, she had no way of hiding Quinn’s phone. What if they had trouble finding her?
“W-where’s Doug?” she asked.
Andrew narrowed his gaze. “He’s in the bedroom. Good idea. We’ll show him what happens to his sister when she disobeys.”
Reaching out, he grabbed her hair and dragged her to the bedroom.
“Let me go,” Crista screeched, tears of pain running down her cheeks as he pulled ruthlessly at her scalp. Andrew laughed, an ugly, nasty sound, then shoved her into the bedroom. Crista kicked out at him, hitting him in the shin. He let out a roar of anger before punching her in the face.
Searing agony made her cry out as she fell to her knees, breathing heavily.
“Stupid bitch. Look at your sister, Doug. See what a slut she is? She’s been fucking two men and yet she’s jumped straight from their bed to mine.”
Andrew grasped her arm, hauling her to her feet. Crista was too stunned to fight. Through eyes blurred with tears, she spied her brother lying on the floor, his hands and feet bound, a gag in his mouth.
He looked awful, pale, with big dark bags circling his eyes. His clothes were dirty and ripped. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times.
“Crista?” he croaked. He groaned in pain as he tried to move toward her.
“What have you done to him?” she whispered, horrified.
Andrew sniffed derisively. “Did it to himself, sorry bastard. He’s weak. Kept begging me to give him a drink. Pitiful. I think the world would be a better place without him in it.”
Andrew reached behind him and drew a gun from his back. Crista watched in growing fear as he aimed the gun right at Doug. Doug didn’t make a sound. There was acceptance in his gaze. As though he’d given up. As though he was ready to die.
Well, she wasn’t ready to let that happen. To either of them. She had too much to live for.
“No, wait, please don’t,” she begged desperately.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
He leered over at her. Crista swallowed back her bile. “I-I’ll do what you want. You wanted me to strip, right? Look, I’m doing it.”
She undid her jeans, stripping them off quickly as she kept her gaze on his gun.
“You’ll do it anyway.”
“But if you’ve got Doug as hostage, I won’t fight you. I’ll do whatever you want whenever you want it. Please,” she begged as she stripped off her sweater, leaving her in her t-shirt, bra and panties.
“Keep going. Hurry up or I’ll get bored. You don’t want me to get bored.” He gestured his gun at Doug.
Crista reached around and undid her bra, hoping she could hide the phone in the folds of her t-shirt. She managed to strip the bra and t-shirt off together, bundling the phone up in the middle.
“And the panties. I want you completely naked.”
“Crista, no… Run,” Doug mumbled.
Without speaking or looking at Doug, Crista pulled her panties down, leaving her completely bare to Andrew’s lecherous gaze.
She felt dirty.
Where on earth were Nash and Quinn?
Andrew picked a pair of handcuffs off the dresser. He threw them at her. Crista attempted to catch them but her hands were trembling with anxiety and she dropped them.
“Clumsy bitch. You know, you should be grateful for my attention. Who else is going to want you? You’re chubby, boring, clumsy and plain. Think those two guys are going to want you for longer than it takes to satisfy their urges? You’re just a convenient fuck to them, Crista, nothing more. I would have given you a wedding ring, a house, everything. You just had to do what you were told. Now you’re going to do it anyway. Put those cuffs on.”
Fumbling, she reached down and picked up the cuffs, slipping them over her wrists.
“Lie face down on the bed, legs apart.”
Crista moved slowly, her cheek throbbing, legs trembling. She lay on her stomach, deliberately turning her face away from Doug, even though it meant she had to put weight on her sore cheek. She couldn’t stand to see him as she spread her legs.
“Now that’s what I like to see, your pink little pussy. Your sister has a real fuckable pussy, Doug. Hold still, I’m going to tie your ankles to the bedposts.”
“Fucking asshole, you hurt her—”
“I hurt her and you’ll do what?” Andrew taunted. “You’ll lie there and take it, you useless sack of shit. Luckily for you, I can’t be bothered listening to your whining.”
There was a meaty thud then silence. Crista rolled over to see Doug slumped on the ground, unconscious.
“What did you do?” she yelled.
“He’s all right. For the moment. Get back in place.”
She did as he said, too scared of what he’d do to Doug if she didn’t. He bound ropes around her ankles then tied her handcuffed wrists with another rope to the headboard. Crista tested her bindings. She wasn’t moving anywhere.
Something swished through the air.
“Oh my God, is that a whip?” she screeched.
“Yes. I’ve been waiting for a chance to practice using it. Now feel free to yell as loudly as you want. No one can hear.”
He laughed and a chill went down her spine.
The whip landed in a sharp slash of pain. Crista held back her scream.
She didn’t want Quinn and Nash to storm the place until they were ready and she knew if she yelled out they’d come running immediately. So she bit her lip and swore to hang on as long as she could.
They were coming. She just had to believe that.
* * * * *
“I’m going in,” Quinn said impatiently. He took a step forward. Nash grabbed his arm.
“We have to be careful about this. He could be armed.”
“I’m not waiting any longer. God knows what he’s doing to her in there.”
“Okay, but listen,” Nash urged. “I’m going to sneak in the front. You guard the back door. All right?”
Before Quinn could answer, a loud scream split the silence.
“Shit, Crista!”
Quinn took off running. Nash pushed him toward the back of the cabin. Quinn opened the door quietly, straining to hear anything. He snuck through the kitchen then heard a shout. Racing, he moved through the small lounge, jumping into a small bedroom behind Nash. The sight that greeted him had his blood boiling instantly.
&nb
sp; Crista lay bound to the bed, her back covered in thin welts, some of which were bleeding. He turned to see O’Ryan reaching for a gun on the dresser. Like hell. He dived, catching the other man in the stomach.
Rage engulfed him.
Frantically Crista strained her neck, trying to peer over her shoulder. But she couldn’t see a thing.
“Quinn? Nash?” she called out desperately as she heard a heavy thump then a low groan of pain.
Someone whimpered. Please, don’t let it be my men.
“It’s okay, baby.” She calmed at Nash’s voice, letting out a sob of relief.
“I’m going to undo your feet then your hands, just hold tight and try not to move. Christ, he did a job on your back, didn’t he? I’m so sorry we didn’t get here earlier, darlin’.”
“I-it’s okay.” Her teeth were chattering as he released her feet then moved to her hands. “Quinn?”
“He’s calming himself down. Leave him alive, Quinn, I don’t want to spend the rest of the night digging a hole. Here, use these to cuff him.”
Crista tried to turn and look but the pain in her back had her gasping and lying back on the filthy bedspread with a hiss.
Nash ran his hand over her hair. “Shh, darlin’, just rest here. We’ll take care of everything, I promise.”
“Doug?” she asked.
“We’ll take care of Doug too. Just let go and leave everything to us.”
She knew she shouldn’t. She relied on them too much. And that would make it so much harder to say goodbye to them in the end.
Chapter Eighteen
Crista sat beside her brother’s bedside and held his hand. Exhaustion plagued her. She wanted to lay her head on the bed and cry. But she couldn’t sleep. She was terrified Andrew would revisit her in her dreams. The doctors had cleared her to leave, but Doug had been admitted for dehydration.
A hand squeezed hers.
She glanced up to see Doug looking at her.
“Crista,” he said, his voice rough. “Water?”
She jumped up and poured some water into a glass. Doug sat up slightly and took the glass from her, his hand shaking. She took the glass when he was finished, placing it back on the bedside table.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clasping his hand in both of hers. “So sorry that Andrew kidnapped you to get to me. Oh Doug, please tell me you’re all right.”
He shook his head and her stomach dropped.
“No, I’m not. I haven’t been all right in years. And it’s my fault, not yours. Andrew would never have taken me if I hadn’t been drinking all day. I was as weak and defenseless as a babe. I should have realized what was going on with you. I should’ve been able to protect you. Instead I had to sit there, helpless, while he hurt you.”
Tears welled in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.
“You’re my only family and I’ve let you down time and again. I’m so sorry, Crista.”
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.
“Yes, it is. And it’s time I took responsibility for my problems and stopped relying on you. I know you don’t want to work for me, Crista. I know I’ve let you do far too much, left everything to you. That’s going to change. Sis, you’re fired.”
“W-what?” she asked, her jaw dropping.
He nodded. “I’m going to talk to Pete. Put him in charge. He can run the crew while I’m in rehab.”
“You’re going to rehab?” she asked, her mind whirling.
He nodded. “Yep. I thought about this a lot while I was tied up. I promised myself that if I got out alive then things would change. While I’m gone I’m sure everything will be in good hands with Pete. I figure he’ll move the crew back home. I only stayed away because I was ashamed to show everyone what I’d become.”
“Oh, but he’ll need my help,” she protested. Plus what would she do for money?
Doug shook his head. “Pete’s always wished he could have Ella with him. I’m sure she’ll jump at the chance to work with him. I want you to take some time and think about what you really want to do.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me?” she asked, feeling surprisingly lost and downhearted. Wasn’t this what she wanted?
“I’ll always need you. But you need to do what’s best for you. Go home, honey. I’ll be fine. I feel ashamed enough of what I’ve become. I’m supposed to be your big brother, someone you can turn to for help. I want to be that person, and I have to do it my way. Please, Crista. Go, for me.”
“You’ll call me?” she asked tearfully.
He nodded and with a few more promises and some tears, Crista kissed him goodbye and left his room. She turned toward the waiting room, knowing Nash and Quinn would be there. At least one of them had remained by her side since they’d rescued her from Andrew. When she’d talked to the sheriff, they’d held her hands, steadying her.
They were everything she could ever wish for.
More than she could ever hope for.
She would tell them how she felt about them. They’d protected her, made love to her, taken care of her. Those weren’t the actions of men who didn’t care for her as Andrew had intimated.
Yep, she would do it. Just not tonight. Tonight she was too raw. If they rejected her love it might well break her.
* * * * *
Nash walked into their motel room, fatigue pulling at him. Silently he checked the place over then came back for Crista and Quinn. His heart melted as he looked out the door at them standing in the hallway.
Quinn stood stiff and still, on alert even though O’Ryan was in custody. Crista slumped against him, her skin pale, her eyes closed. Exhausted. And no doubt in pain. Nash had some painkillers the hospital had given him in his pocket. They’d get her doped up and into bed.
“Come on, darlin’, time for bed.”
She opened her eyes slowly and smiled as he took her hand and tugged her inside. Nash led her to the bedroom and to the bed.
“Can you get her some water?” he asked Quinn, who nodded silently. Nash stripped her. She simply stood there.
“Darlin’?” he asked as he grabbed one of his t-shirts. “You okay?”
Crista turned to look at him, wincing as she moved.
Of course she’s not okay, you idiot, he told himself. Look at her. She’s been whipped, terrorized, humiliated.
“Sorry, sugar. Stupid question. Here’s Quinn with your water. Put this t-shirt on and hop into bed and you can take your pills.”
Her eyes widened. “But I don’t wear clothes in bed.”
“I thought it would make you feel better to have something on,” he explained gently. He wanted to ease her trauma, and being naked between the two of them probably wouldn’t help that.
Tears welled in her eyes, falling slowly down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Quinn asked, sending him a look filled with worry and a little terror. Nash knew that look, the look of a man watching the woman he loved cry with no idea how to fix it.
“You don’t— You don’t find me attractive a-after he touched me,” she sobbed.
“Oh darlin’, that’s not true.” Nash dropped the t-shirt and took her carefully into his arms. He rested his hands on her sides, where the whip hadn’t landed.
“Of course we still want you,” Quinn added gruffly. “But we’re not about to jump you when you’ve just been assaulted.”
Nash wished he could hold her tightly but he didn’t want to risk hurting her. He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Darlin’, we were so scared tonight. It took every ounce of control I had not to lock you up and forbid you from meeting with that asshole, and then when I saw what he’d done to you…” Nash gritted his teeth at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”
“I nearly did,” Quinn added.
“So this isn’t just for you, it’s for us too. Tonight, we just want to slip into bed with you and hold you. Please, will you let us do that?”
She let out a sob then nodded.
> “Thank you, darlin’.”
* * * * *
It was time for action.
More than a week had passed since they’d rescued Doug. Nash and Quinn had been fantastic. Caring, thoughtful—they’d done everything they could to make her happy. Massaged her shoulders when she’d been all tense, held her when she’d succumbed to tears, dragged her off to bed when she’d decided to stay up all night to keep the nightmares at bay.
But they hadn’t once told her to strip.
Or tied her to the bed.
Or had her suck their cocks.
Or used a butt plug on her.
She figured they thought her too delicate. That they had to tread carefully.
Well, that may have been the case a few days ago. Now she was just plain horny. She needed them. Both of them.
Hard, fast, deliciously dominant.
So she’d played the part of a fussy princess and sent Quinn off for Chinese. Then when he’d been gone ten minutes, she’d turned to Nash, pouting, demanding ice cream.
They’d both sped off to do her bidding. She’d feel guilty if she didn’t have a plan to make it up to them. Running to the bathroom, she grabbed the largest butt plug, the one they hadn’t used on her yet, and lubed it generously.
The plug was smaller than either man, but hopefully it would stretch her enough to take them.
Stripping, she moisturized her body then moved to the bed and lay on her back with her knees bent up to her chest.
Closing her eyes, Crista felt around with the tip of the butt plug until she had it lined up with her opening. Then she pushed it against her asshole, pressing firmly, forcing herself to relax and take it all.
By the time she’d gotten the plug seated her arms were shaking, her breath coming in hard, fast pants. She sat up slowly. The plug moved, rubbing against sensitive nerve endings. Crista gasped at the sensations rolling through her.
How on earth could she take one of them in her ass and one in her pussy at the same time?
Crista shook her head, but knew she had to keep going, they’d be back soon.
Walking with tiny footsteps, her butt cheeks clenching furiously, she picked up the bag of toys and drew out what she needed.
Bound to Them Page 23
