by Ally Vance
We walk into the house that must hold so many terrible memories for Asher, but as I shoot a glance over at him, his face is an impassive mask. I try not to cough as the smell of mildew and dust hits my nose. I take in the grimy sheets thrown over the furniture for protection. Not that I think it’s going to do much good; the smell of stagnant air and mildew must be seeped right into the fabric and wood by now. I guess the caretaking doesn’t include the house.
Wordlessly, Asher heads to the back of the house. We enter the kitchen. The paint on the walls has dulled over the years, leaving them a dirty beige. My gaze falls to the round table in the center of the room. A condiment stand with a stained plastic ketchup bottle still half full with now rancid sauce stands in reproach in the center of the table. I shiver as I imagine Dale and Asher sitting down to meals with the very people who abused and profited off them all those years and silently wonder how they managed to swallow their food. I don’t have time to take in the rest of the space since Asher is pretty much speed-walking me to the basement steps.
As we approach the basement door, he stops suddenly and rubs a hand over his neck, then looks at me with a weird expression. “Last chance to back out of this.”
My stomach twists, but I give him my best confident smile and squeeze his hand. “Let’s do this. After, you can take me for those peanut butter milkshakes you mentioned earlier.”
He smiles back at me before opening the door and flipping on the light switch. A dull yellow bulb hangs midway down the steps and casts a shadow over Asher’s face, making his straight nose look sharper than it usually does and his cheekbones starker. Asher would’ve made millions if he ever decided to become a model, but he prefers to work with the band. I guess the three of us would all rather be together than pursuing different paths.
I can’t see much of the room yet due to the wall next to the staircase blocking my view, but my nostrils are assaulted by the smell of bleach and my eyes water as they start stinging. We step off the last step and round the corner. I frown. This place is immaculate. While the upstairs is covered in over a decade’s worth of dust and grime, the basement looks a hundred times better.
A thousand times better.
But that’s not what stops all thoughts of pungent smells—it’s the large wrought iron bed in the middle of the room with its red and brown comforter pulled military style over the mattress with not a crease in sight. In fact, the whole room looks like it had a thorough spring clean.
Is someone living here?
I’m about to ask Asher the question when I see his face. He looks like he’s in a trance, and I think he might be lost in a memory. One that can’t be good, considering where we are.
“Hey…” I wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay, I’m here with you.”
His arms tighten around me, and he pulls me hard against him. I feel his heart thundering against my chest and press a kiss on his shoulder. I want to ask him what he’s thinking, but I don’t know how.
Or if I should.
“I spent the majority of my life down here doing things that should’ve made me feel ashamed, but didn’t.” Asher’s words stop all thoughts in my head, and I still.
“When we were kids, I’d hear Dale crying in his bed. Some nights, I’d even hear his teeth chattering when Uncle Ted came for us in the middle of the night for his ‘special clients.’ He never prepared us for those. The ones looking for way more than the average Joe. I think he wanted the adrenaline spiking through our veins. But those were the ones I enjoyed the most because even though Dale and I both got dragged out of bed at ungodly hours, I knew the night would be special. They wanted my body and Dale’s whimpers.”
My heart stops. All kinds of warning bells are going off in my head, and I’m trying not to judge Asher ’cause God knows I’m my own shade of fucked-up, but I can’t help it. This isn’t right.
This is not right.
I kiss him again and take a step back, not wanting him to feel the rejection because what happened to him wasn’t his fault. And I, more than anyone, knows how it is to be made to think something is right and good when it’s all kinds of awful and wrong and toxic.
Asher runs his thumb under my chin. “Am I freaking you out?”
“No,” I lie.
“Turn around.” His voice is soft. “I want to show you something.”
I hesitate. God, I hate myself for hesitating, but I do.
Asher must feel my reluctance because he smiles down at me. Those piercing gray eyes are full of understanding with a hint of amusement. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I need to hold you to do it, and it’s distracting having your tits pressed against my chest.”
I feel my shoulders relax a minuscule amount as a laugh escapes me. “You’re so damn romantic, Asher Brown.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “I try.”
I relax a little more and turn around. Asher steps up behind me and pulls me back against him. He does what he always does every time we stand like this. He pulls me flush against his body with my ass pressed against his thighs. I can feel his hard cock against my lower back. I guess he wasn’t exaggerating about the distraction. His one arm goes around my chest like it always does, and that same safe feeling of familiarity kicks in. Nothing I hear tonight will change the way I feel about Asher. He’s always there for me—no judgment. He’s my constant. He and Dale are the two things I can count on, even if I don’t love him the way I wish I did.
I place a kiss on his tattooed arm.
“What do you think?” He asks.
“About?”
“The room?”
Damn, now that’s a loaded question. Based on his earlier revelation and how much more sensitive this subject has just gotten, I know I have to tread lightly.
“Does someone stay here? It’s pretty clean for an abandoned house.”
“Yeah, I do.”
I turn in surprise, but Asher grips my shoulders firmly and turns me back. His arms anchor me to him. The hairs at the back of my neck rise, and it feels like the temperature just dropped a dozen degrees.
“What do you mean you live here?” My voice is tight.
“I mean, I sleep here. Well, I’ve been sleeping here for a couple of nights now.”
God, why would he want to do that? How can he do that? Is this his idea of gaining closure, because I don’t think it’s healthy?
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see if it would be comfortable for you.”
Ice rushes through my veins like a melted avalanche. “What do you mean, for me?”
I try to turn again, but Asher’s arm moves to my throat, and he pulls me to him. His other hand slides behind my head, and he holds me firmly in place. I struggle against his hold as panic sweeps through me. I can’t breathe. He’s strangling me. My fingernails rake down his arm and find purchase in his skin, but he still doesn’t let go.
“Don’t fight me, Raine. You’ll be better off if you just give in.”
My acrylic nails tear off with the force of me trying to free myself, then flashing lights dance across my eyes. I gasp for air, desperately trying to suck oxygen into my lungs but to no avail. The lights flash faster, and then there’s nothing. Just blackness.
“That’s my girl,” is the last thing I hear Asher say as my knees give in, and he lowers us both to the ice-cold basement floor.
Chapter Four
Cold.
The only thing that permeates my mind when I come to is how cold it is. I slowly open my eyes, confused at first, but the minute I take in my surroundings, I remember what happened. My eyes snap wide open, and I try to sit up, but I’m yanked back against the pillows as chains snag on the wrought-iron bed frame, the metal biting into my skin.
“Ouch, fuck!” As the words leave my mouth, I swallow hard. It feels like I chugged a mug of razor blades. Bringing my hands slowly to my throat so I don’t hurt myself again, I press my fingers to my neck and feel the tenderness where bruises have formed on my skin.
/>
What the fuck is happening here?
My eyes scan the room, looking for Asher—for some kind of explanation as to what the hell is going on—but he’s not here. Panic surges through me as I try to figure out what the situation is, but my head still feels kind of loopy.
Why did Asher do this to me?
I tug on the chains, knowing that my efforts are probably futile, but I have to do something. Maybe things aren’t as they seem? Maybe this is just Asher’s sick idea of foreplay. Except this feels way too real, and way too wrong to be about Asher amping up our sex life.
The door to the basement opens, and I hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. My stomach twists as Asher comes into view moments before he steps off the last step and smiles at me, tray in hand.
“I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up, so I fixed you some chicken soup and toast. I don’t imagine you’ll manage the toast, but you should get the soup in.” He walks over to the bed, and I sit up further against the pillows, ignoring the now ever-present sting of the chains as they dig into my already beaten-up wrists.
Asher places the tray over my legs; there’s a forest green vase with an artificial daisy sticking out of it. The daisy is dusty in places, and I briefly wonder if any of that dust got into the soup.
Why the hell do I care if dust got into my soup? I’m chained to a bed, for God’s sake.
“What’s going on?” My voice is raspy, like I have the flu.
Asher stands and reaches for the pillows next to me to prop behind my back. “Is that better? More comfortable?”
“Asher! This isn’t funny. Let me go!”
I know it’s not a joke. This is the farthest thing from a joke, but my brain wants me to believe it is. Trying to figure out what’s happening is giving me a headache.
“I brought you dinner, silly.” Asher smiles at me as though this is just like all the other times he’s brought me breakfast in bed. It’s the same easy smile he always gives me, but there’s something in his eyes that is screaming a warning.
“Asher, I’m being dead fucking serious. You better let me go, right now.”
“Why’s that, Raine?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “Because you say so? Well, I’m done with being your little plaything. Your toy to use and discard whenever you see fit.”
I yank on the chains now, not caring how they knock against my wrist bone and send a shooting pain all the way to my elbow.
“Stop this right fucking now. Right now!”
Panic makes my voice way more forceful than I could ever have managed with the way my body is trembling. I look down at my clothes.
What the hell? Where did my sweats go? Why the fuck did Asher put me back in my concert clothes—a layered gray leather skirt and white tank. The tank is see-through and held together at the sides with safety pins instead of cotton.
“I think you should eat something. You know how grouchy you get when you’re hungry.”
Frustration rises with the panic, and I sit up once more. “Let…me…go!” I scream.
“Careful now. You’ll damage those pretty little vocal cords if you aren’t careful.”
“Asher, please. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Asher scoops up a spoon of soup and blows on the hot liquid before bringing it to my lips. I clamp my mouth shut, and he clucks his tongue. “I thought you were smarter than this, baby. You’re really going to need your strength for what I have in store for you.”
He places the spoon back in the bowl and scoops up the tray, setting it on the floor next to the bed. When he turns to face me again, everything I once recognized and told me I knew him, is gone.
Reaching behind his neck, Asher pulls his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. I always loved that move. Watching Asher undress was just about all the foreplay I needed. His muscles would bunch as he moved his body, and I would find my body heating with the need for him to be over me. Or under me. Or whatever we were in the mood for.
“You know, Raine, I hope you appreciate the restraint I’ve shown all these years. Being your little fuck toy when I wasn’t even the one you wanted—that took massive restraint. But I knew I had to bide my time, and I’m so glad I did. Your sister—or whoever she was to you—gave me a great idea when she sent you the letter about greed. I saw you looking at it one night. It was such a fucking clever idea, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. So I started planning, waiting things out.”
“Those other letters were you? H…How? There were ones of the two of us together?”
He leers at me. “It’s called technology, baby. You won’t believe what’s out there for the right price.”
A chill runs down my spine. I couldn’t believe that Asher would do that. Had planned this for months.
“I’m so proud of myself for waiting it out. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to get retribution.”
He toes off his shoes, and I sit up higher against the pillows. Fear’s icy fingers like tendrils around my throat. Suffocating me more than Asher’s fingers had moments before.
“Asher, what are you talking about?”
His fingers go to his belt, and he starts undoing the buckle. “I’m talking about how you’ve used me for years when the person you really want is Dale.”
I shake my head in denial when deep down—or really not that deep—I know he’s telling the truth. But something tells me now isn’t the time to own up to that.
“That’s not true.”
Asher slides his jeans down his legs, his thick angry-looking cock springing free. He’s hard. Harder than I’ve ever seen him as he wraps his fingers around his shaft and strokes himself a few times.
I swallow hard. “Asher—”
“Shut the fuck up, Raine. I’m done listening to you. I’m done doing your bidding and being tossed aside when you’ve had an orgasm or three. Today, I’m taking it all back.”
“Asher, I said I’m sor—”
“I said shut up!” Asher’s voice snaps like a whip, and I clamp my mouth shut. “One of two things is going to happen here. You’re either going to do as I say, or I’m gonna make you. But either way, I’m getting what I always deserved.”
Asher climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body. Thick bile rises up my throat, and the temptation to kick out at him as he presses a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck is so strong, but I control the urge. Enraging Asher while I’m tied to the bed with no way to protect myself would not be a good idea. His hand grazes the hem of my skirt, and I realize why he changed me. “Open for me, baby.”
I shake my head. “Asher, no. Please.”
He clamps a hand on my chin and forces me to meet his eyes. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Do you want me to make this hard for you? Open your fucking legs.”
I take a deep breath and take stock of the situation. There’s no way he’s going to let me go, and there’s nothing I can do to free myself. The restraints on my wrists get tighter and tighter with each move I make and there’s no way I can break the chains. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my trembling legs to move apart.
“I…I can’t.”
“Then I’ll just have to make you, won’t I?”
Asher moves off the bed and grabs some rope. Not the fun satin-type we play with on occasion. This is the thick, coarse kind that I know is probably going to hurt more than the chains, if that’s possible.
I feel the tears of frustration sting my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek till it bleeds to stop them from falling. I will fucking die before I let him see me cry.
“You don’t have to do this, Ash. Just tell me what you want, and we can figure this out.”
He snorts out a laugh. It’s a bitter sound that fills the room like sarin gas. I know with that brief sound that my fate here is sealed. Asher wasn’t lying when he said he’s been biding his time. I’m not an idiot. I know there isn’t a chance in hell he’s going to let me out of this basement alive. I know who he is, and he knows I’d run str
aight to the authorities.
I push the panic down deep and tilt my chin up. I’m not going to get out of here alive, but I’m not gonna die a sniveling mess.
I take my mind to a faraway place while Asher splays my legs open and ties them to the bed. When he’s done, he crawls back up my body and tears my panties away, then settles between my legs. With the first sweep of his tongue, I feel the vomit climbing higher in my throat.
“Fuck you, Asher.” I bite out.
“Baby, give me a minute, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you.”
He dips his head again and suctions his mouth onto my clit, and I do everything to get away from him. The rope sears my skin as the coarse fibers tear into my ankles, but I don’t care. It feels like my wrists are going to snap from the metal pressing against my bones, but I don’t care. I hear Asher chuckle, the sound vibrates against my flesh, and then it happens.
I feel my body reacting to him.
No, no, no! God, no. This can’t be happening. Muscle memory has me responding to his actions. Years and years of Asher pleasuring me has him knowing exactly what my body needs to bring me to the brink… And he is doing all those things to me now.
I thrash, an angry screech tearing from my throat as my body builds. He digs his fingers into my hips and pulls me flush against his face. His mouth sucks harder on my clit, and I feel the climb.
Please no. No, no, no.
To my horror, I start to pulse. My muscles clench as my orgasm builds. When Asher slips a finger inside me, I can’t stop myself from coming.
He looks up at me, his chin coated with my juices and a smug smirk on his face. “That didn’t take you long, now did it?”
The vomit clawing its way up my throat projectiles out my mouth, and I can’t take in air fast enough. I start choking on my puke.
Asher’s smug smirk morphs into disgust as he wipes the vomit off his face. What was disgust turns to utter fury, and the blow to my cheek snaps my head to the side.
He grabs my chin in his hands and glares down at me, and I recoil inwardly at the utter hatred in his eyes. “I was gonna go easy on you, but I guess we’re way past playing nice, wouldn’t you say?”
