Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3)

by Penny Lam

  At the back, four figures were huddling together. All of them were tied at hand and ankles, with strips of cloth tied through their mouths, partially gagging them.

  Relief flooded Maple, reinforcing her. “Untie them.”

  Tony went in and got to work. Maple was forced to switch her gaze from him to Gus, Gus back to the trailer. Finally, all of the women clamored out. “Katie,” Maple barked, “Come here.” Of all the pony girls, Katie had been the most, well, not kind. But avoidant. She’d rarely participated in Brie’s bullying, choosing to ignore more often than not.

  Maple handed her a gun. “I’m going to tie up Tony, Okay? Keep the gun trained on him. If you risk shooting me, fine, but don’t let him attack. Got it?”

  Katie nodded, mute. Her eyes were wide and doe like, shimmering with tears.

  Just get through this, Katie. Just help me get through this.

  The end was so close that Maple could taste it. Her body seemed to already be there, systems shutting down, unable to sustain the adrenaline-fueled energy from before.

  Maple made Tony sit. She grabbed more rope. Then, taking a deep breath, she set her own gun on the ground away from him, where he couldn’t get it quickly, and moved in to tie him up.

  Tony stood and Maple jumped back. “Katie, shoot him!”

  The grin on Tony’s face was huge. “Thanks, Baby.”

  “I’m still pissed at you,” Brie’s voice hissed from behind Maple. “You were going to sell me with these girls!”

  Tony held his hands up, placating. “No, I wasn’t. I just needed Gus to believe it until Marco showed up. You did a good job.”

  Tony grabbed Maple and whirled her to face Brie, who was pointing the gun at the crying, huddled bodies of Katie, Lexy, and Justine.

  “I’m sorry,” Katie cried. “She asked for the gun! I thought--”

  Brie sighed loudly. “You thought wrong, you dumb cow.”

  Tony’s body pressed up behind Maple’s, his breath hot in her ear. “Some women train better than others, Maple.” He released her and grabbed her gun from the ground.

  Maple was done. She’d tried so, so hard. Whatever the signs had been, this was the end. She sat down, defeated.

  It was nice, though, in a way. Maple turned inward, shock and exhaustion numbing her to what was happening. Instead, she mused. How calm she suddenly felt. There wasn’t any voice in her head, belittling her for failing. For thinking she could save the day.

  Brie tied Maple up after slapping her hard on the face and cursing. Whatever she was screaming at her, Maple didn’t hear it. She descended, sinking into the subspace.

  It wasn’t until a gun went off, its deafening crack echoing, that she bothered to look. Tony stood over Gus’s body, which had tumbled over. A small wave of relief washed over Maple. There was no remorse over the loss of Gus. A demon slain, and that alone was worth the price.

  Brie locked the remaining girls back in the trailer.

  Several dark SUV’s pulled up. Brie kept her gun trained on Maple. The doors opened simultaneously. Men in jeans and low cowboy hats all piled out.

  “Marco,” Tony said, worried.

  “What the fuck is happening?” A gruff voice demanded.

  Tony shrugged. “Change in management. Same deal, though. I got four girls for you.”

  The leader, Marco, stepped forward and nodded at Maple. “I only see one.”

  “The others are in the trailer.”

  “Why’s she out?”

  Tony smiled. “This one’s wild. Needs to be broken.”

  Marco smiled. “I can do that. Let me see her.”

  Brie kicked Maple, yelling at her to go over to the leader. “Be careful,” she warned.

  “Put your gun down, whore,” Marco sneered. “I can handle myself.” Brie spat in anger but lowered her weapon. Knowing Gus, she was probably used to men speaking poorly to her.

  Maple stumbled over to Marco. She didn’t resist. There was no more fight in her. She’d tried her hardest. It hadn’t been good enough.

  That was okay. It had been a magnificent effort, and, for once in her life, she felt wholly proud of herself.

  Marco’s hands grabbed her shoulders. Gripping hard, he pulled her close.

  And then roughly shoved her behind him. “Now!” He yelled. There were a dozen men, at least, with him. At his cry, they all pulled their weapons on Tony and Brie. “Drop your weapons,” he commanded.

  The two guns fell from Tony’s and Brie’s hands, thudding on the ground. Both had their mouths open, confusion and fear finally contorting their cruel, vindictive faces. Maple’s heart hammered, and she clung to the stranger, Marco, not understanding.

  “This is the F.B.I. Tony Fields and Brie Sampson, you are under arrest for the murder of Gus VanHorn and multiple counts of human trafficking, kidnapping, and assault. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” Marco continued saying their rights as his officers closed in, throwing Brie and Tony to the ground and cuffing them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maple’s back thudded softly against the SUV behind her. Her eyes were wide as she saw the monsters responsible for every pain, every hurt of her body and heart, get cuffed and marched away.

  Marco, wrapping things up, turned to her. “Are you okay, Miss?”

  Jesus. How to answer that? But she knew he meant bodily-- was she physically okay. Aside from the exhaustion that had ensnared every inch of her and the growing ache of her thighs from riding Bane bareback?

  She nodded.

  It took too long. Maple was forced to sit, a blanket thrown round her shoulders. Men were speaking to the girls, who shrieked and babbled and pointed to her.

  Marco leaned down in front of her.

  “Ready to tell me what happened?”

  It was morning when the F.B.I. SUV pulled in front of the gate to Deyton Ranch. Maple watched them open it, taking in the wrought-iron fence and marble gate. In front of them was the long gravel road that led to home.

  After getting her statement, Marco had tried to have her taken to a hospital. Maple had been compliant until then, but she fought. After a long exchange of words, she’d somehow managed to convince him to take her home. To J.B.

  She leaned her head against the cool glass window as the gravel rumbled and spat under the tires. Her shoulders were collapsed in, but her chest was expanding the closer they got. Finally, the house appeared, its ranch-style walls and deceptive size lifting her.

  Sunlight flared off the glass front and Maple was forced to squint. When they turned, the flare disappeared. Dots danced in her vision, slowly dissipating to reveal a lone figure, waiting at the front.

  He was tall and lean, slightly more muscular than the average cowboy. His hat was pulled low, making it hard to see his face, but she knew it by heart. Clad in a chambray shirt and Wranglers, he waited for her. A thrill ran through her at him, some sense of foreboding.

  That man could destroy you, she’d thought when she first came here. Now she knew how wrong she’d been.

  That fear she’d had, the anxious self-doubt that had been so crippling the last time she’d come up this driveway, was gone.

  Marco, it turned out, had been infiltrating the cartel for years and had finally been promoted to a place to get proof of American traffickers selling human sex slaves. Gus had been his first big bust. Her story, told to Marco several times, had apparently helped release J.B. and the others, who’d been cuffed and in a van on the way to a Federal holding facility. Agent Marco was relieved. When the FBI had gotten J.B.’s anonymous tip, they’d been caught off guard by what seemed like two major trafficking rings operating within a hundred miles of each other. He’s called and had J.B. released and brought to the ranch immediately. Now they were witnesses, like her, in the case against Tony and Brie.

  She pushed her door open before the SUV had even stopped, flying out and racing to him. Shouts for her to wait bounced off her. No way.

  J.B.’s arms unfolded from his
chest, opening wide and catching her as she leapt into them.

  His mouth found hers and claimed her, hard. Maple’s fingers knotted in his hair. She was desperate for him, for his kiss, for his air.

  She heard the agents behind shuffling awkwardly. Now came the tedious part. Breaking from his kiss, Maple wrapped a hand in his. J.B.’s long, rough fingers clasped hers firmly.

  It was a clear day. Blue dominated her vision, so deep and true that it dazzled. But it wasn’t unmarred. The white scrape of the moon, trying to remain prominent in the day, was a reminder of the moment.

  Of everything that had brought her here, hand wrapped securely in J.B.’s.

  Her heart flew, seeing the space for what it was. Limitless. Full of possibility.

  J.B. led her inside. He led her home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You really want me to wear it?” Maple asked in a hushed tone.

  “Yes.”

  She bent over, not needing to be asked. In the next breath J.B. had his fingers up her ass, lube smearing deep into her. He fingered her roughly. She grunted. She couldn’t help it.

  J.B. fucked her ass with his fingers hard enough that Maple was forced to brace herself with her arms, pushing back against his welcome invasion.

  “There’s a good pony,” he praised, adding another finger to rigorously stretch her. “A proper pony always has a tail, yes?”

  Maple stamped, chewing her lip, biting back the moans. Her pussy was flooded, her arousal dripping down her inner thighs.

  J.B. replaced his fingers with the blunt, smooth head of her dildo-tail. Her body was so accustomed to its girth and primed from his rough touch, that the steel slid in easily.

  The sudden, immense pressure turned her knees to butter.

  “Stand up. Let me see you,” he commanded.

  Wobbling only a moment, she raised herself straight, tossing her hair over her shoulder. As soon as the tail had been inserted, Maple let herself sink quickly into the subspace. Her body hummed with the air around her. She made tiny corrections; back arched more. Tits out. Elbows tucked back and hands loose at the wrists. Her anus clamped and unclamped around the thick dildo, working it subtly in her bowels.

  “What a fine pony you are,” J.B. rasped, his voice husky with lust. “But it’s time for your punishment. You broke the rules. You rode Bane and you lost him.”

  The swish of a crop whistled through the air before the leather loop at its end kissed her nipple. A jolt of pain tightened it into a hard, but sensitive, knot. Maple cried out.

  To say that J.B. had been livid about Bane was an understatement. When Maple had filled him in on her story, his face had grown redder in increments. His eyes had flashed dark when she said she’d ridden Bane bareback at night.

  The Feds had dropped her by the little Lost Maple on the way back, but there were only two tattered reins dangling from it’s branches.

  Bane had helped her and now he was free.

  J.B. snapped her other nipple and she screamed louder.

  “Tsk, tsk. Good ponies don’t cry, Maple.”

  This time he swatted her tummy, dangerously close to her pussy. The heat bloomed in a strip along the sensitive skin there, but Maple managed to suppress her moan into a snort.

  “Better. Step your feet wide, Pony, and put your hands against the wall.”

  Maple moved at his command. Cool air dusted her sopping slit, sending a shiver up her spine. She was bent over, tail on display. J.B. caught it, tugging it slightly. The movement of the dildo up her ass was sublime.

  He flipped the tail up, exposing her pussy.

  “I’m going to whip your pussy, Maple. Hard. It’s going to sting like a son of a bitch,” he growled. “I’m going to whip it because I can. Because you’re my property. Then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck your pussy and pull your hair and spank that pretty ass until I see my handprint in red for days.”

  He paused behind her, waiting.

  Maple rolled her eyes in anticipation. Then she lifted a foot.

  One stamp.

  The thing the movies don’t show you is how long things take after the arrest. It’s all action and glamor and back-patting when the good guys nab the bad guys.

  But then there’s the investigation-- it’s ongoing. There’s collecting, evaluating, labeling, and filing the evidence. There’s interrogations, sometimes. And lawyers. So many lawyers.

  Maple and J.B. weren’t done with Tony and Brie after that night. Maple had been forced to retell her story over and over. Details she’d rather forget. In front of strangers she had to describe every horrible thing Tony had done to her. Each bad word, each punishment and torture.

  And she did it all with J.B. at her side.

  The lawyers and F.B.I. agents listened. The recorded her and took notes and asked humiliating questions.

  J.B. held her hand and never let go.

  Nothing she said turned him away. Not once did he give her a wayward glance, or look at her in pity or disgust.

  After every painful recollection or questioning, he whisked her away, and kissed her until she forgot everything but him. It would be years before it was over, but he made sure she knew he’d be there every second. Unwavering and strong.

  His body was stretched out beside hers. No shirt on. Jeans casually low on muscle-rounded hips. Maple’s fingers lazily traced the ripples of his abs, her head resting comfortably in the nook of his shoulder.

  J.B. was tense. It wasn’t obvious. You’d only be able to tell if you really knew him.

  Maple really knew him.

  “What are you worryin’ on?” She asked in the teasing Texan lilt they both shared, like a secret.

  It took him a moment. It did, often, when J.B. had to collect his thoughts. He still didn’t talk much, so when he did, he wanted to say what he meant.

  “I don’t think I want to get married again.” He said it cautiously. Like it was fragile and he didn’t want it, or her, to break.

  Maple smiled and turned her cheek to kiss his chest. “That’s fine.”

  “I can buy you a ring, still. I’d wear one, too, if you wanted. But--”

  “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I want, either.”

  This gave him pause. “What do you want?”

  “To help Raúl and Mariela become citizens. Help them get what they deserve. A chance to do whatever they want.”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “It’s past time, anyway.”

  Pushing herself up, Maple looked down at her handsome cowboy. Her honey brown hair cascaded on the sides of her face, falling in soft tendrils on his tanned, weathered skin. “One more thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “Your brand. Make me yours, completely.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Nope.”

  He stared at the ceiling, mulling it over. He didn’t say yes.

  He didn’t say no.

  Epilogue

  The iron was bright orange. It was beautiful, the bold “J.B.D.” surrounded by delicate, lacy designs. It was elegant. Perfect.

  It hissed as J.B. pulled it from the flames. Both of them were sweating, the fire close and blazing hot.

  “You sure?”

  Maple eyed the hard iron he was packing in his pants, not the one in his hand. Holy hell, had any man been so sexy? So beautiful? Each time they touched was an exploration of the dark. The deviant desires that pushed, and pushed, and pushed so far into the perverted that they came out on the other side irrevocably altered.

  Their lives weren’t perfect.

  But they also emerged immersed in love.

  “I reckon so,” she teased, her body taut with adrenaline and anticipation.

  He lowered the brand to her hip and pressed it in.

  She was his forever.

  Author Stuff

  Thanks so much for reading my trilogy! It was a blast to write and I’m feeling sad and nostalgic (already!) now that it’s over. Maple was hard for me to write. I’ve be
en struggling with postpartum depression in the past year, something I know many readers will identify with. Really, any form of depression and anxiety.

  This has been such a hard year. Trying to get back to writing after a baby was a much more significant challenge than I ever could have anticipated. Things I never struggled with before, like deadlines, suddenly were crushing me. Writing, too, became painful. I lost my joy in it for a while.