Page 48 of Keeping Her Under
“My dogs… kill you,” Lance laughs, his breathing labored. His words are slurred due to the cut in his cheek. “Sick ‘em, boys!”
They lunge forward, but on Asher’s whistle, they immediately halt. Their bodies quake as they look between their two masters.
Asher pulls out two slices of ham from the small rock-climbing pouch he has clipped to one of his belt loops. The dogs immediately go to him. He squats down to feed them through their muzzles.
“Come here!”
They flinch at Lance’s shout, but they turn to face him, and a small part of me softens towards them. Dogs give their loyalty even when they’re beaten. They give their love even when they’re afraid.
As the two of them duck their heads and step forward, Asher moves in front of them. They stop and look up at him, and I see the same confusion in their eyes that I want to see in Summer’s.
You’re protecting me? Me?
The rest of my anger at them fading, I turn back to Lance. He continues to shout commands at them, but his words are slurring more and more. Reaching up, I cut two triangles out of his forearm. I keep hold of the chunks of flesh rather than letting them fall to the floor. Then I tilt his chin up and wipe the blood off his brow so he can open his eyes. Fear fills them as he sees what I’m holding. Smiling at him, I toss the two bloody triangles over my shoulder.
The dogs scurry across the floor, their nails loud in the sudden silence.
“You told her you’d let your dogs fuck her and eat her,” I say calmly.
His face pales. “It was... a joke…”
“It was so funny,” I agree, “and I’ve always been a fan of comedy.”
Squatting down, I untie the rope at his ankles. His feet slip off the metal bars he was balancing on. He drops hard. The screws rip up his back, then his shoulders go pop!
As he cries out, I stand up to undo the ties at his wrists. He collapses to the ground, his body too fucked up to stand. I shove everything off the bench press, then drag his upper body onto it face down. He tries to fight me while he’s on his knees, but he’s too weak from blood loss. I stretch his arms down the length of the bench and tie him to it tight.
Pulling out my cock, I rub my thumb across the S branded into my flesh and piss all over his face.
The dogs bark and snarl, wanting another piece of meat. As they lunge at the end of their leads, my cousin digs his heals in, struggling to hold them.
Lance twists his head to look at them. His eyes widening, he begs me to not go through with this.
She begged you not to text her.
He screams that he’ll pay me anything.
With the money you stole from her.
He cries for God to save him.
Ask him face-to-face.
Shaking out the last of my piss, I tuck my cock into my pants. I look down at him with a smile.
Then I leave him to the dogs.
Twenty-Seven
I don’t look back as I walk away. But I bask in the horror of his screams. In the screech of the bench press dragging across the floor. In the hunger of the dogs’ growls as they rip into his flesh.
As I crest the stairs, the sound of hot panting reaches my ears, and my smile widens. Good boy.
But when I exit the basement and head towards the kitchen, I put all thoughts of Lance aside. He is a cancer, and I will not let him infect my time with Summer.
I never want her to ever see the monster that lives inside of me. So while Lance will be her past, when I’m with her, she will only think about the future.
Our future.
