Tethered (The Stables Trilogy #2) (16 page)

He didn’t know her secret.

She wondered how much knowing she was a murderer would change things. It felt as if maybe Reece, and by proxy, J.B., might actually understand why she did what she did. If they didn’t see her as broken, then maybe she wasn’t a monster.

Maple wondered, briefly, if she was a monster slayer instead.

It felt too fresh to contemplate. She’d need to remember this day, with all its goodness and enlightenment, and break it apart. Just to make sure.

All of the ponies were fine. She wanted to reassure them about Ashley, but speaking to them as women and not ponies was definitely out of bounds.

Bored, she strolled down the long stable, gazing at the ponies from other trainers.

Everyone was tired, their lids at half mast. They perked up as she passed by until they saw she was no buyer. Then it was back to slumped shoulders and shuffling feet. Things J.B. had trained out of his own stock. His girls
never
dropped their pony identities.

When she reached the end, she realized all the other handlers and trainers had left.

I should hurry back. J.B. will be looking for me.

A shuffle in the next to last stall caught her attention. There were no more trainers this far down; the last six or so stalls were empty. She couldn’t see inside the one the noise had come from.

It was dark on this end. The windows were fewer, and the back door shut. No lights were on, since no ponies were supposed to be stabled there. The shadows fell from the exposed beams, crisscrossing the floor like a fence. A deterrent.

“Hello?” Maple called out softly. “Who’s there?”

The shuffling stopped. The air felt thin. Her heart was thumping in her chest. There was no reason for this situation to feel off.

But it did.

She should turn back. Go find J.B. or, at the least, Reece. Make sure the ponies were okay. All those reasons were good ones to just turn around and leave.

Maple never could let a mystery go, though, even small ones like shuffling in mysterious stalls.

Glancing around and seeing there still wasn’t anyone there, she took a deep breath, steeled herself, and marched forward.

The door was open on the stall. She stepped in, eyes still adjusting to the black.

That’s when someone rushed behind her and shoved.

Chapter Fourteen

Maple’s knees cracked as they hit cold cement. Her palms followed quickly, slapping the black, hard floor beneath her. Pain shot up her wrists, stinging and electric.

Before she could cry out, a large body was pressed behind her, pinning her down. Whoever it was wrapped an arm around her, pinning her own arms, and squeezed with bear-like strength. Their other hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

“Damn, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

The voice was so familiar her body immediately reacted, her pussy getting wet like he’d commanded it. It was the same voice who’d trained her in Tulane. The person who’d let countless strangers brutally fuck her. Only to leave her right after.

His voice was the one of her subconscious. When she scolded herself, tore herself down, doubted everything good-- it was always in
his
voice.

Tony.

Someone was with him. She still couldn’t see. Maple struggled hard, trying to break from the vice hold. She kicked, she screamed against the hand that pressed harder onto her mouth. Her whole body went into the fight. There wasn’t room for total fear-- not yet, at least. There was only room for a single instinct.

To get the hell away.

The other person knelt in front of her and struck her across the face. It wasn’t just a slap. It was a
hit
, hand cupped. The hurt of it was stark and immediate, snapping her desire to run in two. All she could think about was the powerful ache in her cheek. She wondered if he’d broken the bone.

“Open up,” the stranger growled, and damn all that training, so rooted in her she’d never be free, because she did. Her mouth opened and a cloth was shoved in. A tie went over it and was quickly knotted at the back of her head. It pulled at her hair, catching it in the tie.

Maple moaned against the gag. Immediately her throat felt dry, the cloth sucking the moisture and her hope away.

Tony yanked her up. “So you’re sure it was her?”

“Fuck yes. This is the bitch.”

Tony clucked. “Maple, Maple, Maple. You are in a lot of trouble. You can’t even begin to fathom how much punishment you’re in for.”

She sobbed against her gag, her body sagging. Tony held her up, refusing to let her crumble. “I want in on some of this, but it’s your call. I can’t believe it was her!”

“Lucky we came to this circus. These guys are a bunch of fucking weirdos. Nabbing her, though, damned well makes the ticket price worth it.” The man in front of her grabbed her arms gruffly and dragged her toward the back door. There wasn’t much light, still, but out of the stall Maple looked up at her kidnapper and--

Ice crackled through her veins. It was him.

His face was different. Subtle things like the cheeks looked different, and there was a new scar on his chin. His skin had the waxy look that came from multiple plastic surgeries. But it was him, no doubt.

The last time she’d seen this face, it had been staring up at her. Bloodied. Eyes bright with hate until they faded.

He was supposed to be dead. Maple ran him over with a freaking
truck
.

Their gazes met, and he sneered. “It’s me, sweetheart. When you kill someone, you make sure they’re dead.” He spit in her face. It hit her cheek, viscous and cold, sliming down and catching in the gag. “Bitch,” he hissed.

His irises were colored by vengeance. Black. The pupils large from the dark and from spite. Maple wanted to swallow but there was nothing to swallow. So she choked on fear instead.

Tony stepped out. “God, what are the fucking chances!” He was practically shouting, and his partner shushed him.

“Wait until we get her away, Jackass!”

“What?” Tony shrugged. He even reached out and flipped a switch, dimly lighting the back of the stables. “No one is here. No one that matters, anyway. Just stupid pets. Let’s play with her a bit. I bet she’s totally into this horse shit. She always was a crazy whore.”

Tony stepped closer and brushed a tear off her face. He stuck that finger in his mouth, tasting the salt and the pain. His eyes rolled in ecstasy. “Trust me, Gus. No one will give a shit about this two-bit tramp.”

There was a table next to the last stall covered in old gear. It obviously hadn’t been used or cleaned in a while. Rejects. Tony grabbed a metal bit and held it up. “See? Watch this!”

Maple shook her head as he approached. She could barely see through her tears. How could her mouth be so dry while her eyes drenched her face?

Tony fisted her hair and yanked. “Be good, Maple. Naughty girls get double punishments.”

He untied her gag and threw it on the ground. In went the bit. He shoved it back, suppressing her tongue. It was like he was truly trying to fit it behind her molars. The metal clanged against her teeth. The bit was cold and rusted, her mouth tasting like copper. That could be from blood, too.
Maple wasn’t sure.

Tony fastened the bit behind her head. Her gasps now echoed through the stable as she struggled to breathe around the massive bit. It was made for a horse, a real horse, and not a human. Too large. Too awkward.

“Bring her back in the stall.”

She found her body shoved and hauled in. In no time, Tony found some rope. He tied her wrists together, then slung the end over an exposed beam. Pulling on it, he managed to lift her, forcing her on her tiptoes. The rope burned her wrists, her fingers already losing feeling. Her shoulders screamed at the weight placed on them.

Tensing as best she could, she tried to kick at Tony and the man from the club. Gus, she thought that’s what Tony’d called him. They laughed, vindictive and cruel.

“She is a spirited filly,” Gus joked. “Time to break her in, I think.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “She was too spirited. Fucking mouth on her. Always complaining, second guessing me. I thought I’d taught her a lesson that night.”

Gus pulled his belt off, folding the leather over and cracking it. “She’s about to learn a hard lesson now.”

Dodging her kicking feet, Tony caught her around the waist. A punch to her exposed stomach knocked the fight out of her. Suddenly, her pants and panties were her around her ankles.

This was it. Maple’s past had caught up with her. She couldn’t imagine how fate had managed to bring these two
here
. A different state. A different world from the atrocious club they frequented. But it had to be fate. She’d done something horrible. She’d let one of these men pervert her, twisting her dark desires into something necessary. Like air. And she’d tried to murder the other. She’d watched him die and felt many things about it-- but not remorse.

Fate it must be, then. The bell tolls, and all that. A horrific cause and effect.

Her stomach and ribs ached from where Tony had hit her. Her entire body was stretched long.

Maple could smell the stench of her own fear. It radiated off her, fueling her attackers. Tony had always liked fear. Like muscle memory, her body was responding to this attack. She fought it like she fought them. She pictured J.B. Tried to remember all of the good that had come from working at the ranch.

She wasn’t the girl who’d lived in New Orleans. She wanted more than pain with her pleasure. She wanted love’s firm hand.

This litany played in her mind as Tony shoved his hand between her legs, roughly dragging his fingers through her slit. “Not responding yet? You can’t fool me. Guess we’ll just have to take it up a notch!”

Gus’s belt cracked along her backside.

So help her, her cry wasn’t entirely of agony.

As the belt whipped her, spinning her body, the flare of her skin heated her core. Tony was shouting at her, berating her. How stupid she was. How he couldn’t believe she’d been so cowardly as to run over a man with her car and then disappear. How no one could possibly want her after all that she was.

Gus stopped striking her with his belt. He looped it around her neck and pulled tight.

Maple couldn’t breathe. Each struggle brought the leather in tighter, bruising her throat and crushing her windpipe. Her saliva bubbled and churned at the aching sides of her mouth, and her tongue kept trying to fight the bit.

She felt him shove his fingers into her pussy and his thumb roughly into her asshole.

He was holding her like a fucking puppet while he choked the life out of her.

She wiggled and squirmed. Her vision was dotted with bursts of light. Her pussy was convulsing, coming on his filthy hand. Her body shamed her. It betrayed her, and as black began to swirl in front of her, she barely heard their triumphant, hateful laughter.

“You’ve still got it, Maple. You wanton little slut.”

Maple hoped this was it. That Gus would keep holding onto the belt, and let her die. She could barely bear the shame of what she was before. It had tormented her at the ranch, haunting her every action. It had taken time and heartache to be rebuilt by J.B. Made a little stronger. More durable.

Less guilty all of the damned time.

She couldn’t do it again. Gus had to kill her, because knowing she’d fall apart, even in this, was too much to face. He was hurting her, threatening her life, and she’d come on his fingers.

There was a soft, muted click.

The belt released, dropping to the ground. Gasping felt like inhaling shards of glass. Oxygen rushed into her starved lungs, and on the exhale Maple’s anguished sob wracked the silence.

“Untie her, now.” Gravel. Her beautiful, dark angel was saving her yet again. It broke her heart.

The tension in the rope eased, and she was slipped softly to the ground. Maple crumbled to her knees, her ribs shaking with her sobs.

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony spat.

“She belongs to
me
,” he snarled. She’d seen him in action against Reece-- when it was time for fighting, he was whip fast and packed a punch to boot.

Gus moved forward until Reece’s voice stopped him. “This gun isn’t for show, Asshole.”

It took effort, but Maple looked up. J.B. was standing, legs apart, arms crossed like he was making a business deal. His hat was pulled low so she couldn’t see his eyes, but his mouth was pulled taut with anger. Behind him, Reece had a gun up and trained on Gus. Unlike J.B., Reece looked wild, his eyes darting from Tony to Gus and back again.

Gus held his hands up. “No offense, Mister, but this slut had it coming to her.”

J.B. said nothing. Silence was his weapon.

Shuffling, Gus continued, though he spoke more rapidly. “This bitch ran me over with her truck. Left me for dead.”

Reece’s eyes went wide and planted on Maple. He’d overheard her confession in J.B.’s stable so long ago, but had missed this key element. Now he knew. If he or J.B. had been searching for denial, they wouldn’t have found it.

Unruffled, J.B. asked, “Did you deserve it?”

Gus bristled. He growled, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Did you deserve to be run over by a truck?”

“Listen you son-of-a-bitch--” But Reece swung the gun square to his chest, and Gus faltered. “She was trying to fuck up my club. I run one in New Orleans. She tried to get my girls to revolt. A fucking mutiny of submissives.”

Maple shook her head violently. That hadn’t been what happened! J.B.’s gaze flickered to her, and it said all she needed to know. He was pissed, but he didn’t believe Gus.