Page 1 of Stray

Ozzy

PROLOGUE

“Fuck!” I gasp loudly when the bucket of freezing water sloshes over my beaten, naked body, causing me to shiver in the cold night air.

“Get your filthy ass cleaned up.” The masked man growls as he throws a bar of soap at me from his place on the porch. It must be nice getting to wear a winter coat and face mask. Reaching down, I try to grab the bar, but it slips out of my hand. The man grips the heavy metal chain in his hand and jerks it, causing the sharp prong collar around my neck to bite into my undoubtedly already infected wounds. Letting out a scream in pain, I fall to my knees, grab the soap, and begin running it over my shivering body, washing away mud, blood, and god knows what else.

“Hurry up,” he barks. “And wash that disgusting ass of yours. I ain’t putting my pecker in there until you wash those nasty fucks out.” I finish rubbing the soap over my body before standing and bracing myself before he turns on the hose and blasts me with the icy water. My scream is silent while I spin to get fully rinsed off before he yanks me by the chain back into the dilapidated cabin.

“God dammit, Hugh!” the older man’s Australian accent growls as he smacks the one holding my chain upside the head. “Ain’t nobody gonna pay to fuck her with that nasty shit in her neck.” Really? Because it hasn’t stopped either of you or anyone else you’ve let in so far.

Hugh shrugs his broad-set shoulders. “Patrick, if the stupid cunt would stop running, she wouldn’t need the collar.” The older man turns to me.

“You ain’t broken in yet, brumby?” he chuckles as he smacks my cheek before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to keep trying.” I move to back away, but Hugh tightens his grip on my chain as the man towers over me.

“Remember, brumby,” His breath reeks of cigarettes, and I cry out as he grips my collar and squeezes it to cut off my air supply. “The harder you fight, the more fun I have. Now, bend over and stare out the window. I want you to see how close you are to your freedom while I fuck your cunt into submission.”

Ozzy

FIVE YEARS LATER

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter in annoyance as I pull down my oversized sunglasses to look around at… nothing. Nothing but land and sky as far as the eye can see. The culture shock is hitting me like a ton of bricks. It’s like I’m stepping into a whole other world. There’s a wooden home with a wraparound porch with barns on either side, and the entire place is overrun with wild animals. They are everywhere. Okay, I guess farm animals aren’t “wild,” I don’t think… but still.

Taking a deep breath, I put Gretchen, my Volkswagen Jetta, into drive as I creep down the long dirt drive.

“Shit!” I scream, slamming on my brakes as a small pig runs out in front of me. “What the fuck!” Throwing Gretchen into park, I whip open my door and get out of the old girl.

“Sorry about th–Oh my god…” The large man lets out a breath as he looks me up and down. “Can I?” he coughs to clear his throat as he smirks and waggles his brows. “Can I help you, angel?” Ah, this must be the infamous Carter. Before accepting this live-in nurse job, I was warned that the three sons of the man I’d be caring for were a handful- specifically, Carter and his apparent obsession with getting a little too close with the aids at the agency they had been using.

“Ozzy Davenport,” I say, noticing two other large men walking up behind him. You got this, Oz. You knew there would be men here. “I believe I’m here to take care of your father.” The other two men flank the one I’m still assuming is Carter. And the one on the left with longer brown hair huffs loudly.

“You are a nurse?” Same shit, no matter where I go. Never mind how qualified I am. All they see is the tattoos. I’m covered from the neck down, my straight hair split down the middle, half silver and half black. Plus, there are the visible piercings–my quarter-size black plugs, dimple piercings, and nostril ring. I cross my arms over my large chest and raise a dark brow at the man, daring him to continue.

“Yeah, for nearly a decade now.” His piercing blue eyes roll as he shakes his head.

“I’m going to throttle Indy for this,” he mutters to the still-grinning man. My eyes narrow as I feel a surge of protectiveness for the only friend I’ve had in the last five years.

“For what?” I ask sharply. “Finding you a nurse willing to help you since your brother here can’t keep his dick to himself?” The taller guy busts out laughing, and Carter’s smirk widens.

“So,” he purrs, getting close to me. Too close. “You’ve heard of me.” His hand goes out to touch me, but in an instant, I kick him behind his knee, causing him to fall to the ground into a pile of mud… or maybe it’s shit. Yep, definitely shit. His brothers start moving, but I press my foot down, the heel of my black stiletto dangerously close to Carter’s crotch, and they all freeze.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I state slowly, looking at each of them. “You will talk to me like I have no sex parts, understand? To you, I am a shapeless robot. I am your great-great-grandma. Whatever you have to tell yourself to keep your piss-ant penis in fucking check. And if you can’t, and we have to have this discussion again,” I press into my heel, causing Carter to hiss. “I will pop those useless nuts like grape tomatoes. Am I making myself clear?” Raising my brow, I wait for him to give his answer. Carter nods furiously, and I give him a bright smile. “Perfect! See! Now we can be friends.” I beam while removing my foot and stepping back. The two standing men help Carter up, who is cupping his crotch like a protective mother would her baby.

“Jensen,” the long-haired man says to the tallest one. “Take Carter inside and get him some ice.” Snorting, I roll my eyes while Carter limps away.

“I barely touched him,” I mutter before turning and walking to get my luggage out of Gretchen.

“We have to ride horses,” the man grunts. “Any soreness or tenderness can make riding impossible.”

I clutch my hands to my chest and push out my bottom lip. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.” I lay the mock sympathy on extra thick. “Maybe your brother will think twice before touching someone without their consent next time.”

“Get over yourself.” He snorts before snatching my bags from me. “He goes to touch your arm, and you knock him back and nearly impale his nuts? You won’t get along around here if that’s the attitude you’re giving out.”

“Well, fortunately, I’m not here to get along. I’m here to take care of your father.” He huffs out a laugh as we walk towards the front of the house.

“Right,” he says, opening the door and looking me over once more. “And how do you plan to do anything with those?” He gestures to my long, stiletto-shaped black and red nails.

“Lucky for you,” I state while trying to control my annoyance rapidly bubbling to the surface. “My nails and my job are none of your concern.”

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