by S. M. Shade
“Don’t encourage her little smart mouth,” Airen admonishes.
“You liked my mouth earlier.”
“Of course, it was full.”
Joseph laughs, stepping back when I snap Airen on the ass with a beach towel before tossing it to him. He tucks it around his waist, grabs a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo, and they head off to the stream.
When they return a few minutes later, I’ve made the bed with fresh sheets and I’m lounging on it in only a pair of panties. Even with the windows open, it’s warm in here. It’s September for Hell’s sake, won’t the humidity ever let go?
Airen smirks, plopping on the bed beside me. “You trying to tell us something, darlin’? Or should I check to see if there’s a man climbing out the back window?”
“Don’t start with me. It’s hot in here, and I already had to make sure you two didn’t smother in one another’s jealousy.” Joseph chuckles while they lie down on either side of me.
“She thinks we didn’t see her ogling Nic,” he remarks, grinning at Airen.
“Not good at playing innocent is she? I think she needs a reminder of who she belongs to as well.” Airen smirks at me.
Hmm, this could be fun. “Nah, I’m good. Although…”
Joseph gazes at me with a grin, and Airen’s eyes dare me to finish my sentence.
“He has some really blue eyes, doesn’t he? I’ve never seen eyes so blue,” I say in a dreamy tone, trying not to giggle. I’m well aware I’m going to pay for this.
“Now I just want to put her over my knee and warm her ass for her,” Joseph states, swatting me on my panties.
Son of a bitch! Airen must have told him! I’ll kill him. Airen holds his palms up in defense and shakes his head when I whip around to tear him a new one. Joseph’s face lights up and his delighted laughter makes my face burn. He didn’t know about our little spanking secret, but I may as well have announced it after my reaction.
“Oh, what have I stumbled on?” Joseph asks, grinning from ear to ear. He closes his eyes. “Wait, I need to picture it. Tell me you put her over your knee.”
“Shut up.”
His soft lips are on my neck while his hand cups my ass, squeezing gently. “I’m going to do it, Abigail. Sooner or later. I can already feel you squirming on my lap.”
“Oh god,” I moan, embarrassed. Could I let Joseph spank me? I’ve only done that with Airen, and it still embarrasses me. It’s such a vulnerable position to be in. At someone’s mercy with my naked ass in the air. My insides crawl at the thought of Joseph watching Airen spank me, or vice versa, but a small part of me is excited by the possibility. When did I become such a kinky bitch?
They’re quiet for a few minutes, and I’m hopeful the subject has been dropped until Joseph speaks up again. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep now? All I can think about is seeing this beautiful ass all pink.” His words are accompanied with a loving stroke to my behind.
“Joseph, please. Shut up,” I groan.
“It’s okay to like it, ladybug.”
“He would know, darlin’.” Airen chuckles at the look on my face.
What? Really? All this time I’ve hid our little activity from Joseph, I never considered they may be doing the same thing. “Really?” I demand, gazing at Joseph.
His green eyes twinkle with amusement. “Damn, baby. You act like I’m frigid or something. Don’t be so surprised. It’s not that uncommon. A lot of people like it.”
I turn to Airen. “You’ve spanked Joseph? Like over your knee? Like me?” Shit, this I have to see.
“Wore his ass out,” Airen replies smugly.
“Have you spanked anyone before?” I ask Joseph. I know Airen won’t let him.
“Tim and I were into it.” After a minute of silence, Joseph chuckles. “The look on your face, Abby. I’d love to know what you’re thinking.”
“She’s picturing you across my lap,” Airen replies. The bastard knows me. The thought of Joseph bent over Airen’s knee, his firm bare ass in the air while Airen smacks it, turns me on more than I’d like to admit.
Joseph regards me, raising his eyebrows. “Were you?”
“Of course not.”
Not fooled for a moment, he pulls me into his embrace and whispers in my ear. “When you bend over my knee for me, I’ll do the same for him, and you can watch.” His voice is husky, dripping with dark promises, luring me into temptation I’m helpless to resist.
Chapter Five
Airen
Abby scoots closer to me, burrowing into my side. We fell asleep with the windows open and the early morning breeze is cool. I slide out of bed and close the windows. After throwing a blanket over Abby and Joseph, I dress and slip outside. The sun has barely breached the horizon, my two night owls won’t be up anytime soon. The early mornings belong to me, and I relish the solitude. Especially after the last few days.
I was a dick. I’m not even sure why I reacted the way I did to Troy’s return. When I saw Joseph talking and laughing with him, I lost control. I hate losing control. There’s a part of me that’s convinced Troy has come back for Joseph, Nic or no Nic. Haven’t we proven a three way plural relationship can work? Why not the three of them? Nic’s good looking, and Troy would jump at the chance. They have something I can’t give him, years of experience fucking men. I’m sure one of them wouldn’t hesitate to bend over for him, and I can’t compete with that.
Still, Joseph loves Abby and I can’t imagine him walking away after all we’ve gone through to get to this point. I know he loves me, too. I don’t know why I was suddenly worried about losing him. The relationship is still so new, I guess I’m just waiting on something to go wrong. If I don’t pull my head out of my ass, it’s going to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I just have to trust him.
At least I don’t have to worry about Abby wanting her ex back. She loathes Jon for reasons I hope to uncover sooner rather than later. Her reaction when he showed up was terrifying, though she seems to have gotten over it. Maybe because we have more important things to worry about. Christ, it’s just one catastrophe after another. What I’d give to just call the cops and let someone else handle it, but that’s not an option.
I can’t get the story of that little boy out of my head. I’m even having nightmares again, and they’d stopped years ago. It’s not difficult to figure out what triggered the dreams. I wasn’t much younger than him at the time.
Joseph and Abby are upbeat and cheerful on the remainder of our trip to Troy’s house. Of course, I fulfilled my promise to make her whimper under my tongue and fuck her ragged, so that may have played a part in her sunny disposition. The long, teasing hand job I gave Joseph while he drove certainly didn’t damage his mood. We pull into the driveway in the early evening.
“Troy, this is beautiful,” Abby exclaims, her eyes wide as she takes in the scenery. She’s right. A small cottage lies cradled between a pond and a large open field. Backed by the lush green forest, it looks like something out of a fairytale. A row of strawberry and blueberry bushes border an expansive garden that’s recently been harvested. Goats graze in a wide, fenced in area, while chickens scratch and peck at the ground around our feet. Troy chases them toward their coop, giving Joseph an apologetic smile. He’s afraid of birds, and chickens freak him out.
A petite blond headed woman steps out the door of the cottage with an olive skinned, skinny boy in tow. He looks at us warily with dark, fearful eyes. “It’s okay, Sammy,” the woman assures him before throwing her arms around Troy. “You made it. We were beginning to worry.”
“You can’t get rid of us that easily,” Nic replies, hugging her as well.
Troy rests a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Diane, this is Abby.”
She beams, shaking Abby’s hand. “Troy’s told us all about you, Abby. It’s good to finally meet you.”
Abby smiles at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too. This is a lovely place.”
“It is, isn’t it? Troy’s done a bang up job. I liv
e just around the bend with Mac. Platonically,” she adds. “That’s him, now.” She grins and gestures to the driveway where a huge bear of a man is climbing out of a pickup. His voice rumbles like a freight train when he introduces himself.
“Pete MacEntire, but you can call me Mac.” Long rust colored hair frames a face mostly obscured by a thick red beard. We give each other a cursory nod and shake hands. After Troy introduces everyone, we’re led to a shady area where a picnic table and lawn chairs are arranged haphazardly around a fire pit.
“I’d invite everyone inside, but my small living room would burst,” Troy says.
“It’s nice out here,” Abby assures him.
Diane glances around our little group with a smile and asks, “Would anyone like some iced tea?”
“Let me help you,” Abby volunteers, following her inside.
Sammy plops down at the picnic table and leans forward on skinny elbows. “So, when are we going after those assholes?”
“Sammy.” Mac’s voice holds a warning.
“What? We are going after them, right?” The kid’s chin juts out a mile, and he scowls at Mac.
“We are going to rescue the others. You’re staying here.”
“We’ll see about that.” This boy’s going to have a humpback from the weight of the giant chip on his shoulder.
Mac ignores his grumbling and asks Troy, “Have you discussed a plan?” Sammy’s eyes darken when Troy shakes his head.
“We wanted to get all the details first. We want to do this right, make sure no one else gets hurt,” I explain.
“Okay, then.” Sammy hops down and picks up a stick. Kneeling, he draws an L in the dirt and points to the long side. “This is where the men stay most of the time. The first room belongs to Frank. He’s in charge. Then there’s Stan, Luke, Keith, Butch, and Chris.” He draws an arrow to each corresponding room. His eyes are wary when I approach him.
“Where are the exits?” The corners of his mouth twitch up when he realizes I’m taking him seriously.
“There’s an emergency exit here, but they boarded it up. The main exit is next to Frank’s room. It used to be the office, you know, where people would check in.” I nod and he continues, excited to help. “The door at the opposite end of the girl’s hall is always locked. Maybe we could dynamite it.”
I swallow my urge to chuckle. The kid’s seen too many movies. “I’m sure we can knock it down if we need to. Where do the women and kids stay?”
“Molly and Amber share these two rooms. There’s an adjoining door between them. Barb and Jenny have the next two rooms. Stacey stays with Keith in his room. Lisa stays with Barb, she’s eight. Brad, Sissy, and Tommy have the last two rooms.”
“How old are they?”
“Brad and Sissy are nine, and Tommy’s eleven, I think. Plus the babies.”
I nod. “We’ll get them out, Sam.”
Such dark, tortured eyes shouldn’t belong to a twelve year old boy. “Soon. You don’t understand. It’s horrible there.”
“As soon as possible,” I promise.
“They have guns, but they don’t always carry them. The doors aren’t always locked, either. Frank tells the kids he’ll kill their parents if they run, and tells the women he’ll kill the kids if they leave. You might be able to catch them off guard.”
“How did you get out?” I ask, softening my tone.
“Just ran in the middle of the night. My parents are dead. They didn’t have anything to threaten me with.”
“That was brave.”
A pained expression creases his face. “No, I left them there, and someone will have to take my place.”
“Sammy! Come and give us a hand!” Diane calls from the kitchen window, and he glances back hesitantly.
“You did the right thing. Go help Diane, and we’ll talk later. You’ve been a big help, thank you.” A grin spreads across his face, and he sprints toward the cabin.
“Do you have a good place for target practice? We should see who can shoot straight,” I suggest, returning to the group.
“Well, Troy’s out,” Nic teases. “He couldn’t hit water if he fell out of a boat. Forget shooting straight.”
“Like you do anything straight,” Troy retorts.
We spend the evening getting to know one another and discussing strategies for dealing with yet another group of psychos. After a dinner of deer chili and corn bread, we retire to our campers for the night.
Joseph and Abby are snoring away when I slip out of the RV the next morning. My collapsible camping chair rests in its usual spot against the front wheel, but when I unfold it, a purple notebook falls onto the dew coated grass. What the hell? It’s raggedy and faded, the yellowed pages filled with small, neat print. Abby’s handwriting. I feel like the trees are watching me, judging me as I peek at the first page.
Silence hurts my ears. Emptiness makes my chest ache. Blackness surrounds me, blocking me from the view of all who no longer exist here. No crowd. No others. I’m alone. Inside, where I’ve permitted no one past the door, I have control. A unique ability to retreat to a warm dark cell. A paradise. Sleep arrives too often or never. Naivete is dead. My ambition faded at its funeral, but it’s all the same to me.
The click of the RV door makes me jump as Joseph closes it behind him. Handing me a cup of coffee, he asks, “What are you doing?”
“Is Abby up?”
“No, she’s still out.”
“Someone left this in my chair. It’s Abby’s handwriting.” A look of disapproval crosses his face. “I know, but you should see what she wrote, Joey. It’s…disturbing.”
“It looks old,” he remarks, flipping through the pages. After reading the first paragraph, he sighs, slamming the notebook closed. “Jon left this,” he snaps.
“How do you know that?”
“Who else? He’s trying to get back at Abby, and you know she’d hate for us to see this. It’s basically a diary.”
“She sounds so…”
“She sounds depressed, that’s all, and I believe she’s describing using meditation to escape.”
“Read the next page, Joey.”
“No! We shouldn’t…”
“Just read it!” Acquiescing, his eyes widen as they move over Abby’s words.
This is my bridge. I will make it mine.
From the moment I walk its rails, until the end of time.
As I cry my heart out, and tell it all my fears,
and the screams of remembrance, for all the bitter years.
It will listen in silence as my mind is breaking down,
and be the last to hear my voice before I hit the ground.
Sighing, he regards me. “Did you see the date in the corner, Airen? She was a teenager when she wrote this.”
“Still…”
“I know it’s scary to think about our girl being suicidal, but she’s admitted this to you before. If we make a big deal of it, we’re giving Jon exactly what he wants.” Slamming the book closed, he lays a hand on my arm. “None of this matters now. I don’t think we should even let Abby see it.”
“What the hell did Jon think he’d accomplish by showing this to us?”
“He probably wants us to think she’s crazy.”
“You think he wants her back?”
“I think he wants to spoil her happiness.” Joseph quickly tucks the notebook in the back of his waistband when Abby steps outside. “Hey, bed head,” he chirps, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure, thanks,” she murmurs. “What’s going on?”
Joseph slips inside to hide the diary as I reply, “Nothing, talking about target shooting today. Are you going to make Joseph look bad again?”
Abby’s smile is a sure fire cure for my gloomy mood. “I’ll do my best.”
* * * *
Our morning is spent setting up a makeshift shooting range in an open field. Tables and sawhorses are lined with empty cans, bails of straw hold man shaped paper targets, and small
er bullseye targets dot the distant tree line. We don’t have a lot of ammo, so Nic and Troy volunteer to scour the surrounding small towns.
“I wanted to shoot today!” Sammy complains, glaring daggers around the picnic table.
“Tomorrow,” Mac tells him. “Can’t shoot without ammo.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do the rest of the day? I’m bored already.”
“I’m tanning a couple of deer hides. I could use some help,” Mac replies.
“Pass,” Sammy grumbles.
“Troy, can I borrow your boat?” I ask.
“Sure, you plan on catching dinner?”
“Hope so.” Sammy regards me as if he wants to say something. “Do you want to fish?”
Arms crossed across his chest, he sinks lower in his seat. “I don’t know how.”
“It’s easy. I’ll show you.”
He ponders it for a minute as if it’s a life changing decision before asking, “Here? On the pond?”
Where the hell does he think I’m going to take him? “Yep.”
“Okay.” Nic, Diane, Mac, and Troy look on in amazement. What’s the big deal?
“If that’s okay?” I mumble to Troy.
“Of course. There are poles and tackle in the shed.”
Abby scoffs and grins at Troy. “Airen brought his own.”
“Your point, darlin’?” I pinch her ass, and she slaps my arm.
“Stinkbait. Never leave home without it,” she says, her voice deep as she mocks me, sounding eerily like a commercial announcer. Everyone laughs, and she blushes when Nic winks at her. She’s begging for a sore ass.
Abby and Joseph wander off with Diane while Sammy helps me load the boat. He regards me warily as we row out to the center of the pond. “We can fish from the boat or the raft,” I offer, pointing to the wooden raft floating a few feet away.
“I like the boat. Why did you want me to come?” he blurts.
“To learn to fish.”
“Why do you care if I can fish?” His tone is accusatory.
“Because everyone should know how to catch their own food so you don’t have to depend on others.”