Page 38 of Keeping Her Under
Finding her mom, I press the button to call her. A moment of hesitation burrows into my bones as it rings. I don’t have any way to hide my voice. Even if I pretend to have an accent, the police will be able to match it to me with their fancy science. Fuck.
The phone continues to ring. My head and heart are torn. The smart play would be to hang up. But my heart wants to fix this for her. Or perhaps it just wants to know that there’s one person who cares about Summer in this fucked up world.
The phone continues to ring. And ring. And ring. Just as I hit voicemail, a woman picks up.
“I told you not to call me anymore. I don’t care if you’re thinking of killing yourself again. You have played that card too many times. You’re destroying my life. So go ahead and do what you have to do. I’m moving on.”
The line goes dead.
My knuckles turn fucking white.
Twenty-Three
By the time Asher rolls up in a car I’ve never seen –stolen or borrowed from a friend– I’ve entered into a state of calm fury. Controlled. Precise. In my right fucking mind.
I slip the two phones into my pocket and step out.
“Who is he?” I ask as I look at the man in the backseat of Asher’s car. He’s not tied up or knocked out, but I know he isn’t an ally. He’s covered in sweat, and there’s a shock collar around his neck.
“Oh, just some asshole wanting to report me for the choices he made,” Asher says cheerfully as he looks up at me from the driver’s seat. His left hand is on the steering wheel. His right is holding up a small remote.
My jaw tightens as I glare at our hostage. If the fucker wants to hurt my cousin, then that shock collar is the least of what he deserves. As I slide into the passenger seat, I nudge the black backpack in the footwell. It’s filled with whatever supplies Asher thinks we’ll need. I put my seatbelt on, and he takes off, heading further out of town.
“He’s in Mobile,” he explains. “Are we killing or napping?”
“Napping.” The piece of shit doesn’t deserve to die so quickly. So we’ll kidnap him and take him to my house. The basement isn’t soundproof, but my neighbors aren’t close by, and I can leave the TV or stereo on until I can figure out a better plan.
My eyes dart to the man in the backseat. He’s sweating like crazy, leaving enough DNA to be traced by the police. Given my cousin isn’t wearing gloves though, I know this car will either be wiped down completely or set on fire.
“What did he choose to do?” I ask.
“He sucked his stepson off to keep him out of jail. It would’ve been this third strike if I’d arrested him for the meth I found in his car.”
“His stepson like it?”
“Yep.”
I turn around. “So what’s the problem? You’re not related.”
He quivers but doesn’t say anything. I laugh as I understand him anyway. “You liked sucking dick. Now you’re questioning everything about yourself.”
His eyes fill with disgust and arousal.
I raise an eyebrow, easily reading all his signs. “A traditional Christian who thinks homosexuality is a sin. How original. But yet, you still agreed to suck your stepson’s cock.” I smile as I see right through him. “I bet you were fantasizing about it for a while, and my friend here” –I keep our relationship secret, not knowing if Asher’s planning on killing him– “just gave you the excuse you needed to act on that desire. And now you want to take your self-disgust out on him? It’s not very Christian of you to pass the blame.”
“I would never insult the Good Lord with suck sinful thoughts!”
“You said suck,” Asher snickers.
He lunges forward. “I said su–” His teeth snap together as his spine jerks ramrod straight. Spit falls out of his mouth as he shakes hard from the sharp shocks of his collar.
“Fucking hell,” I say as the man slumps in his seat. “Please tell me that’s not an off-the-shelf collar people use on their dogs.”
“It has different settings, and dogs have fur.” He tilts his head briefly to the side. “Not that that will stop them from being traumatized.” He shakes his head. “Some people really shouldn’t have pets.”
I think about the dogs mentioned in Lance’s text. My lips tighten as I face forward again. “Did you run a background check on my guy.”
“Yep.”
