Her Knights in Black Stetsons [Smalltown, USA] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Shae Shannon

  “I suppose. Don’t think I won’t hold out if you decide to screw up again. You boys got a lot to learn about treating a woman right, and I am going to make sure you don’t give her any crap.” She carried the tray of sliced roast, potatoes, and carrots to the table. She turned back and went for the salad and rolls, but surprised them with a kiss to each of their cheeks.

  All three boys beamed, instantly softened by their momma’s touch. “So, Dad, how long should we give her before we go toss her over our shoulder and drag her up here?”

  Jeremy laughed, flashing them a look of understanding. “Boys, there is something you need to learn, and learn fast about women. They are never on time, and you can’t rush them unless you want to be stuck in the doghouse for a week.” He sat at the head of the table, taking a swig of his ice tea. The boys took their seats, and engaged in small talk about the upcoming cattle auction.

  Lilly placed the remaining dinner items in the middle of the table and sat. After about ten minutes of conversation, she stood. “Dixon, go check on Emmie. She should have been up here by now. That girl would never hold up a meal around here.”

  “She is probably still in the shower, running the hot water tank dry. That woman loves her hot water. I don’t blame her though. If I had to take ice cold showers I would. I’ll be right back, and you two better not get into that cobbler before I get back.” He got up and pushed his chair in, then headed down the hallway to the basement stairs.

  Not two minutes later, Dixon’s voice cut through the house in a furious panic. “Emmie is gone! Load up now!”

  “Lilly, go get Birtha and lock yourself in the bedroom until I come and get you! She’s locked and loaded, just pull the trigger!” Jeremy rushed to the mantel and pulled down Betsy, the family shotgun, and bolted for the stairs behind the boys. Lilly jumped up, grabbed the twenty-two out of the hall closet, and hurried to the upper floor to their master suite.

  The group of men erupted into the basement apartment to find Dixon standing at the open doorway on his cell phone. “Get the boys and get over here now. Come packin’, we need to find out where the stupid son of a bitch took her. He couldn’t have gotten far yet. You guys start working all of the back roads around the property.” He punched the end call button and shoved the phone in his jeans pocket.

  Panic and anger met the group who were waiting for an explanation. “The door was standing open, and she is gone. Trent must have been waiting for his window of opportunity, and snatched her while we were upstairs none for the wiser He couldn’t have gotten far. Let’s load up and start making a grid outwards. Jase, go grab the guns and meet me in my truck. Dad, you and Jase head south. He had to have parked along one of the four-wheeler trails or he would have been seen. We know he had to walk with her, so let’s just hope that she fought hard and made it difficult for the bastard.”

  “We will get her, son.” Jeremy patted his eldest son’s shoulder, and walked back up the stairs. After Wyatt had been called to come get Lilly, and an arsenal of weapons were loaded, the two trucks of lethal, gun-toting country boys peeled out of the driveway.

  After driving a few side roads only to find no new tracks or signs they had been there, the huge red Dually truck roared in a cloud of dust in a “seek and destruct” mission. Halfway down an old unused tractor trail, a small figure ran down the center of the dirt tracks. “What the hell is that, Lyndon?” Dixon slowed the beast, and flipped the fog lamps on for a closer examination.

  “It’s Dixie! What the hell is she doing way out here? Stop the truck.” Dixon stopped, and Lyndon hit the ground running before it came to a complete stop. He walked up the road a few hundred feet, and waved his arms in the air. Dixon shoved it into park and hopped out, closing the distance between them in a hurry.

  “I think she followed Emm. She led me to the footprints and new tire marks in the grass over here. Look! Shit. There is blood, Dixon.” Lyndon kneeled, and wiped the puddle with his hand, confirming that it was fresh. He wiped his hand on his jeans in a smear and stood, shaking his head in disgust. Both of his fists clenched, and his normally calm, cool, and collected personality changed into something dark and dangerous. “The fence is cut. I knew it.”

  “That son of a bitch is going to die.” Dixon leaned down to see for himself. A low growl rumbled out of him, and he slammed his fist into a nearby tree. “Lyndon, call Dad and tell him now!” He walked over and determined which way the tracks were leaving before getting in the truck ready to haul ass. “Dixie! Hupp!” The dog ran over at full speed ahead and jumped up into the cab and took her spot in the middle. “Good girl.” He patted her head, and honked the horn at Lyndon, who didn’t even get the door shut before dirt and rocks started slinging from the tires.

  “Dad said that he would meet us at the gate by the house. The others are all searching from the other end of this road so if we have any luck, we will sandwich the bastard in between and can make a piñata out of the sick fuck.” Lyndon grabbed the “oh shit” handle, and stood with his head and torso out the passenger side window. “Hand me the spotlight. It’s time to go hunting.” Dixon reached under the seat and grabbed the well-used hunting accessory and handed it up to him. With a click, the woods and pastures that bordered the road were illuminated. Dixon slowed, allowing him to get a full sweep of both sides as they progressed after the soon-to-be-dead motherfucker who took their Emmie. With his knuckles white from the death grip on the steering wheel, the search went on.

  Two hours had passed, and everyone had reported back with no new information. They still continued combing down every road, path, and hunting trail in the area. Jeremy had notified the Sherriff, and he had sent out a search party of his own. The great thing about a small town was how everyone knew everyone. When things turned south, most of the town banded together to take care of their own. All of their friends and family had joined in on the search, and it was only a matter of time before something turned up.

  * * * *

  Trent had planned and prepared this in great detail, and had set up an old abandoned hunting cabin to take her to and proceed with the revenge she had coming to her. No woman left him, much less got a brood of hillbillies to stand up for her when she needed a beating to get put back in her place. Miles from civilization, and deep in the woods, the rickety shack sat hidden within the trees. It was inaccessible without four-wheel drive, and even with that it was difficult. It had been used as a hunting shelter decades ago, and had long since been forgotten. A few teens would wander up from time to time on ATVs and take advantage of the structure as a party spot, but only a small handful knew of its existence. There was running water that fed from a spring off of the hill and had been piped into the house. It took a few hours cleaning the leaves and debris from the stream. He had managed to get the flow running and now had a way to scrub all of the other dicks that had been shoved in her away before he took what belonged to him, and she got what was coming to her.

  Trent drove the truck around to the back of the house as an extra precaution and cut the engine. He quietly entered from the back door and lit the lanterns that were hanging from the wood beams. The dusty room glowed in a soft light.

  He retrieved the rope and duct tape out of the cabinet and set them on the old couch to have ready, allowing evil ideas and thoughts to fill his black soul. With a final glance around, he went to fetch his unconscious captive.

  EmmaLee awoke to an eerie atmosphere that intensified the queasiness she already fought off. It took her eyes a long time to adjust, and the smell of dust clogged her nose. Her heart began to thud against her ribs as the blurred swirls in her vision slowly faded and focused images took their place.

  She was tied up on a tiny cot that sat in the corner, with sleeping bags helping to restrain her. The more she wiggled, the more it became clear that the knots were not going to budge. Strong, piercing pain throbbed in multiple spots of her face, and the headache of a lifetime ricocheted through her skull. She fought the urge to close her eyes and allow the
safe blankets of unconsciousness take her away. With squinted eyes, and all of the willpower she contained, she cautiously examined her surroundings.

  The first thing that came into recognition was a wood stove positioned in the middle of the room. A single cabinet and sink sat beside the door, along with a two burner stove. The only light came from lanterns, making details hard to distinguish. Immediately the confusion banished, and she became percipient to the situation. She quickly began evaluating every possible escape route, and was momentarily relieved that no one accompanied her at the moment.

  There were two doors. One to freedom, and the other she assumed was a bathroom or closet. This was an abandoned cabin of some sort. It was too dark to see out of the tiny windows to try and figure out a general location by the surrounding landscape, so EmmaLee wracked her brain to think of all of the old hunting cabins she knew of in the area.

  Her thoughts flickered rapidly, growing to the point of frantic when creaks and thuds sounded outside. Her eyes darted to the ties on her wrists, and she tugged with all of her might. When the doorknob jiggled, she debated faking sleep, or screaming her head off. It was a small last minute decision, but unconsciousness seemed to be the best and safest route. Hopefully she could find out useful information from her captor and help her survive this. As the door opened, she slumped back down, keeping one eye ever so slightly cracked enough to identify her kidnapper. Defeat began chopping away at her strong survival instinct when his face came into view. Everything went silent, leaving no thoughts, emotions, or ideas. Only one word consumed her. Trent.

  * * * *

  Jase, Lyndon, Dixon, and Jeremy had all decided the next plan of action was to ditch the trucks and mount up. Four-wheelers were too noisy, so the best transportation was their horses. After parking back at the house, they quickly saddled up. Each man sat tall and proud in their saddle, with a Stetson perched on their head and a rifle hanging from their side. Pistols of all calibers were randomly concealed, and the saddlebags were overflowing with ammo. Lilly stared at the sight before her in awe. If it weren’t for the situation, she would run and grab a camera to capture the picture-perfect image in front of her. They were elevated on a small hill, with the full moon behind them. It was like a scene straight out of Tombstone. A chill ran up her back, and the cool night air cascaded soft shivers along her tiny frame. The tears she had managed to hold had unleashed and flowed down her cheeks as she said a prayer. In her heart, she knew that her posse of dangerous cowboys were Emmie’s only hope. If anyone could save her, it would be them. Sharon hugged her close, and turned to lead her into the house.

  Before they rode off into the darkness, Jeremy raised his hat to her, signaling that they would bring their girl home. “Come on, boys, we have a lot of ground to cover. We are going to start at one point with a small distance between us and comb every inch of woods around here. It may take hours or days, but we ain’t stopping until we have her, am I clear?” A bone chilling iciness had frosted each word he spoke. Jase glanced at his father and brothers, knowing without a doubt that there was no other gang he would want to go into battle with. They were the toughest and strongest, and it was all because of the man of steel before him who had raised them to be men. “Yes, sir,” the three boys responded together in unison, all with a deeper, more powerful tone in their voice than normal.

  The anger-fueled gang rode off to slay the dragon and rescue the princess. Jase rode Gypsy through the meadow that connected to Uncle Rhett’s parcel of property and into the thick dense trees. It was a slow weave in and out of the brush and trees, but the beauty he rode maneuvered with grace. He kept the horrible “what-ifs” shoved into the recess of his conscious, not allowing any thoughts besides rescue and revenge to occupy him on the ride. For the first time in his life, he knew what his meaning and existence was. EmmaLee Brooke.

  * * * *

  EmmaLee could hear the sick bastard moving around, and began planning an attack the first chance she was given. Trent had brought a couple duffel bags in and dropped them by the door before walking over to her to check if she was awake. For what seemed like the longest few seconds of her life, she put all of her focus into slowing her breathing and keeping her eyes from moving around under the lids. Her pulse throbbed at record-breaking speed and fear radiated from her. When he walked away obviously convinced, a silent sigh of relief washed out the little energy she had left. The dim lighting had kept the jerking of her chest from her pounding heart unnoticed. She thanked the owner of the cabin for not installing electricity, and after a small pep talk her eyes opened enough to get a blurred peek of Trent opening the second door. It was a bathroom, and he was filling an old claw-foot tub. What do you have planned, psycho?

  Every time his back turned, EmmaLee struggled against the ropes. The one guy who had no talents, couldn’t buck a load of hay, and hadn’t held a job in over a month had miraculously tied the world’s strongest knots. Freakin’ figures. She drooped with lethargy the second he even moved, for fear he would catch her playing possum. Her wrists had moved from rope burnt to almost bleeding, but still she fought for freedom. Much too soon, he walked over to her and began untying her arms. She instinctively allowed them to fall lifelessly, and concentrated again on appearing unconscious. When the duct tape came out, she had to bite the inside of her mouth to not jump and scream. Her only hope was to catch him off guard, and he had her in a bad disadvantage at the moment. She would get one shot, and didn’t want to ruin it. Even as the bile rose in her throat from fear, her body remained motionless while he replaced the ropes with tape. A punishing slap to her cheek shoved her performance into the trash.

  “EmmaLee, wake up! It is time for the fun to begin, you filthy whore!” His shrilling, sarcastic, evil voice made her want to puke. She opened her mouth to scream and verbally kill him, but was deprived the opportunity when a handful of pills were shoved in her mouth that was then covered once again with duct tape, locking them in. “No, no, no! I know you want to tell me how much you want my cock, and how big of a slut you are, but I would prefer to just keep your cum pocket shut for now. If you are a good girl I might feed you some salami after I have beat your loose cunt and ass out. We have plenty of time and privacy to make sure you get enough. When I am done, you won’t remember all of the dicks you have been stuffed with. First, you need a bath.” He unzipped the sleeping bags and untied her feet. With one hand, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her off of the cot onto the floor before kicking the shit out of her. Bruised and battered, he drug her to the bathroom by her arm. She squirmed and fought, but only earned more pain from the evil bastard.

  EmmaLee tried to not swallow, knowing that whatever he had mickied her with would be the end of any escape plans. Her mouth gushed with saliva from the bitterness and quickly filled up. Her gag reflex threatened, and she quickly had to swallow to avoid asphyxiating on her own vomit. She had no idea how long she had before they kicked in, but her mind reeled in attempts to figure out an escape plan.

  She couldn’t get her balance enough to stand, and had no choice but to drag along the hard, rough wood floor while Trent unmercifully continued walking. When he was slowed by her twisting and turning body, he started beating her. The kicks to her stomach hurt the worst, and even though she attempted to protect any internal damage, he still managed to land a few. She would take a horse kick any day to the beating she’d just received. Before she could overcome the extreme pain and rush of endorphins, her body was thrown into a tub of ice cold water. Her lungs gasped at the shocking temperature, sucking in a nose full. She spit and sputtered under the gag, almost drowning. Thankfully a majority of the frigid liquid was snorted out, but her body began trembling instantaneously. Anger trumped her fear and pain, and without thinking, she brought her leg up to kick, landing her foot in his nose. He shoved back momentarily, and she scrambled to get to her feet and out of the tub. Water fell over the sides and flooded the floor, causing the sick dickhead to slip and slide. EmmaLee took this tiny window of
opportunity and leapt out toward the bathroom door using strength she didn’t know she still had. He met her halfway with a fist that she dodged, but still caught part of the blow in her shoulder. This was it. Live or die. There was no way she could let this man rape her. She locked her fingers together in the restraints, reared back her arms, and swung at his face. She made contact, landing her fists in the same place her foot had hit. Hope welled up in her heart. She repeated the action, not giving him any time or chance to recover. Blow after blow, she finally got him down. The second he hit the floor, she took off and out the door.

  EmmaLee ran as fast as she could to the truck and opened the door to find no keys. With a quick glance in the seat, she knew running was the only way. She turned and ran into the darkness. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, and she struggled to see through the dense abyss. Footsteps began closing in on her. Her bare feet sliced on the rocks and brush, but she somehow managed to dig deep and pull out the last ounce of energy and fight she had left in her.

  Panic was her only companion. Her body was numb from the ice cold water, which helped push through the pain. Somewhere in her subconscious, she was aware of the cuts and scrapes the branches were marking her with, but each sting reminded her to keep moving. EmmaLee’s poor body shook from shock, cold, and fear, causing her to stumble and fall more than she would have liked. Her brain scrambled to find a path to safety, and doubt ate at her in many forms. Was she running in circles? What if she ended back where she started? Could he see in the thick darkness better than she could?

  Tears were a thing of the past. When life or death came knocking at your door, an inner will to fight took over. The moon leaked through the trees, illuminating the ground before her. She hurriedly turned away from it, hoping that the dark fog would conceal her whereabouts and enable a clean get away. Even if she died in the woods from starvation or was never found, it would be better than getting caught by the psycho that hunted her like a deer. The farther she ran, the harder it became for her to think clearly. She pushed to her limits, putting one foot in front of the other. Her head spun faster and faster, like an amped up ride on a Tilt-A-Whirl. The footsteps behind her were gaining. She could hear movement in the brush somewhere in front of her. He was everywhere. There was no way out. This was how she died. Before she was overcome by unconsciousness once again, she said a single prayer for help. Her body smashed to the ground in a heap as the calming darkness claimed her.