Chapter
12

“Bend your legs, Ash. You know how this goes. They want to see that pussy of yours.”

My limbs trembled as I opened my legs. I turned my face from Trace and the camera. I didn’t want to see what he was doing, didn’t want them to see my face.

“Come on, Ash. Just a little longer and it will all be over. You want to help the family, right?”

What did it matter? Whether I was into it or not, those sick fucks were going to buy the pictures anyway. Trace had been doing this for years. And now, at fifteen, these men wanted to pay to “deflower” me.

I bit my lip and ignored him. I wore the plain, white sundress Jason had picked out for me, the one that let my dark nipples peek through. Trace had splashed water on me to make the material stick to my body. For the first few pictures, that had been enough. But another buyer, who thought my virginity was worth about two grand, wanted to see my fresh pussy. Too bad he’d never get it. Jason took it a long time ago, and my brother knew if anyone found out, he’d be cut out of making his money. So he would up the price for the photos until some sick bastard on the other site, one who didn’t care about my virginity, paid more for me.

“Get your ass in gear, bitch, or I’ll get it for you.”

Jason. I turned toward the camera instantly. With Jason, I didn’t argue. He knew how to make it hurt, and nothing I did could stop him. Recently, he’d taken a liking to my ass, and he made sure he didn’t prepare me when he did it for punishment. I couldn’t walk straight for a week last time, and they were starting to ask questions at school.

Questions that would lead to my photos leaked to social media if I ever told a soul. I’d be humiliated. And Jason? He’d kill me. No matter what it took, or how long it took to get to me, he’d make sure he’d slit my throat himself. He wasn’t going back to prison. I believed him. I remembered what he did when I’d tried to get away before.

“That’s my girl. I’ll give you a treat when you’re done.”

I shivered, forcing a sexy pout for the camera. Gripping the hem of my dress with white-knuckled hands, I lifted it slowly as Trace snapped photos. He continued to click as I exposed myself and lay back on the bed. The flash was bright in my face as I posed on my hands and knees. On my back with my knees wide-open.

Even a few with a falsely demure hand attempting to hide my vagina and breasts.

Every pose drew Trace closer until he took one just inches from between my legs.

“That should be good. I’ll get these uploaded, and we can see what sort of money we get. Got five figures last time. These horny fucks want everything.” He flicked through a few of the shots on the digital screen, then turned the camera to show me one with me hiding myself. “That one is going to do it, I know it. Good job, sis.”

Fuck him. I couldn’t say it out loud. Not with Jason there, but I screamed it in my head. Rage and helplessness swirled into a dangerous concoction in my chest. I wanted to kill them. My dreams were filled with wading in their blood and laughing at their screams. Through the pain and horror, I didn’t simply wish to break free. I wanted them to die: Jason, Trace, Mother, all of them. I wanted to see how they died and know I was free of them. That would be the only way I’d ever be free. Some guy at school thought I was pretty and wanted to take me out on some dates. I wished I could be that girl, but I didn’t know if the darkness in me—the hate and the rage—would ever let me be her.

Not even when Jason gripped my ankle and pulled me toward him. I didn’t want to be some pretty girl with a cool boy on my arm, talking about shopping and maybe getting to second base. No. I wanted evil to fall in love with me. Evil so dark it would make Jason shit himself and run away.

I clung to the dream of darkness as Jason pulled down his zipper and tugged his hooked penis out. I squeezed my eyes closed tight, sending prayers to the sky that I’d be blessed with the Devil, since God didn’t want him anyway. And as Jason jerked his cock, working up a pearly bead of pre-cum for me to taste, I wanted the Devil to strip me of ever believing in heaven and turn me into his Lilith.

I’d rather be beside the Devil than beholden to a God who’d forgotten me.

Warm rays of the sun woke me. After a week in the basement, the bright rays were unfamiliar, and I couldn’t be sure if I wanted them to go away or if I wanted to bathe in them. Instead, I opened my eyes and stared at the blank, white ceiling above my head. Four thoughts came in rapid succession as I lay there.

One, I’d killed Jason.

Two, Caesar had killed my mother.

Three, he’d choked me faded from life and then I came harder than ever when he brought me back to life.

And four, his naked frame was curled around me in his bed … and I’d never felt safer.

Bile rose in my throat.

I’d pushed away the dream of my youth for the Devil to find me. They say you should be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. I had, and it would kill me. Whatever this shit was between Caesar and me wasn’t normal. Normal people didn’t begin a relationship after a kidnapping. Normal couples didn’t fuck on a dirty warehouse floor after killing two people.

And normal women didn’t want to rejoice at murder and have no regret over matricide.

I groaned. My old wants came back to haunt me and I’d missed an opportunity to get away. I felt no chains or cuffs. The only separation between me and the front door was my sleep, and I hadn’t been aware. I scanned the room. Would Sean be somewhere down there, waiting for me to try to flee? Had I missed the chance to be free of it all? I swallowed, my gut telling me I had. But the fear of staying, of the thought Caesar might have turned me into something worse than Jason had ever been able to, forced me to consider dying over staying. I shifted against the silken black sheets. Caesar never moved. His heavy arm rested across my abdomen, and I feared moving him too much would alert him.

I had to try.

I slowed my breathing and inched my way to the side. Every time Caesar breathed deeply, I paused. My heart thundered, a trapped bird eager to be released. Sweat dotted my brow, and the cool morning air licked my skin, but I didn’t stop. Inch by slow inch, I moved until only Caesar’s fingertips grazed my left hip bone. At the edge of the bed, I placed one hand on the floor, my heart in my throat, and waited. The eerie silence, only broken by the pounding in my ears, scared me. Could I make it to the door? Could I get out?

I slid my body to the floor and breathed a shaky breath when Caesar said nothing. Slowly, to not make the floor creak, I rolled over and got to my hands and knees. Just a bit more. My fingers were stiff as I pulled my way toward the door. I couldn’t trust getting to my feet just yet. At the door, I gripped the knob in my fist and fought to stand. As my knees popped, I cringed.

Please don’t wake him. Please.

The knob turned easily, no sound to break the air, and I pulled the door open and raced out. On the balls of my feet, I made as little sound as possible before I reached the front door.

“The locks. Fuck.”

My own harsh whisper startled me, but I kept going. I turned the deadbolt and the main lock before swinging the door open. Bright sun blinded me. Cool air chilled me. But I was free. I took flight, my bare feet slapping the hard-packed earth. The same hurt, the same cutting branches reached out for me, but I fought my way through, even as my lungs struggled and my brain muddled. I needed to get away.

Run, Ashlyn. Run and live your own life. Tell the cops what happened. Get away.

I could make it. The cops would understand I’d been taken. That Caesar made me do those horrible things. They didn’t need to know the hell in my heart. I’d give them whatever information they needed to know. And if Caesar were in prison, he couldn’t touch me anymore. I pumped my legs and sucked in air as best I could. My lungs ached and I wanted to stop. My limbs felt heavy.

How long had I been running? In what direction?

I didn’t know, but I kept pushing forward. Wind rustled the leaves, but I heard no motor from a dirt bike or footsteps behind me. I was free. I’d gotten out on my own. Thanks to Caesar, but last night would have to be enough for him. I was tired of living in the darkness. I wanted a chance to live in the light. Without my mother, Trace, or Jason to hold me back, I could.

After hours, the trees gave way and a lone street appeared. But my happiness dissipated. Leaning against the sleek, black car that had taken us to the warehouse last night, a smiling Caesar watched me over dark glasses.

“I hate waking up in the morning. I want to be like you when I grow up, having the urge to exercise and shit. It’s just not my thing.”

He shrugged, his thick shoulders apparent in his molded black t-shirt. He stepped from the car and opened the passenger door before he walked toward me.

“Now, you’re going to get your ass in that car and not fuss, or I’m going to take off my belt and whip you all the way back to the house, no matter how long it takes. Don’t try my patience after such a wonderful breakthrough last night.”

“Let me go, please,” I begged. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Are we back to this shit again? Of course you won’t say shit because you aren’t going anywhere. Snitches get stiches.”

He laughed at his own joke, but my shaking legs made me want to cry. “Caesar.”

He sighed and glanced up at the sky before pinning me with his dark stare. “We killed together, Ash. That does things to people. I liked the way it felt. I want to hurt more people with you.”

He meant it. Darkness filled his gaze, and I felt the pull. I wanted to fight against it and find a way back to the peace and quiet of college life, where, for a few hours, I could act like a normal young woman on the cusp of life. Killing Jason and my mother the night before … it had felt to good, and I feared what that made me.

What the feelings Caesar brought to light inside me meant.

“I’m not like that!” I cried, shaking my head.

“Yeah? You lie to yourself all the time like that? Liar, liar, pants on fire. You wanted to hurt them. And I bet, if given the chance, you’d do worse. I bet you liked how much I hurt you and you don’t want to admit it. That’s what you’re running from.”

I shook, unable to argue with him and dreading he was right about me. Those dark dreams whispered to me when I looked at them, but I hated it. Hated that I didn’t know myself anymore. And I hated it even more that he was the key to it all.

“I’m not like that,” I repeated.

“Whatever you say, but my threat still stands.”

I took one step toward him. No, he wasn’t right about me. I wouldn’t let him be. I wasn’t some crazy killer like him. I didn’t need to hurt to survive. So what if I had satisfaction over killing my tormentors? That wasn’t anything different than any human being would feel if they’d gone through what I had. That I couldn’t cry for scum of the earth didn’t mean I was like him.

Another step closer.

Caesar opened his arms wide and waited for me. Lucifer was the most beautiful angel. A perfect creation, but he’d betrayed God and was cast to Hell for his pride. Caesar was like that. Perfection and pride wrapped into one deadly package. He waited for me, to embrace me with pain and madness. He wanted to take me down into a world I didn’t want to know. But after two times trying to escape him, I wasn’t so sure I’d ever be free enough to try again.

I drew closer and he met me, taking me into his arms. His warmth wrapped around me, flaming the pain from branch cuts as he squeezed me tightly. His touch burned and soothed at once. Because, when I stopped running, I could finally take a breath. The very breath he’d given me to live again. Maybe that was why I cried. Why I broke in his arms and didn’t fight when he put me into the car. Maybe that was why I let him drive me back to the cabin and walk me inside. It was most definitely why, when he walked me down to the basement, clicking his tongue in admonishment, I never said a word.