Royally Broken by Elle Boon Page 0,73

it being built into the side of the hills and all.” They stopped outside the house Keys had been allowed to live in some nights. He used the word allowed loosely. Mostly, he stayed in the shed off to the side, but upon closer examination he could see the shed was gone and in its place a garage had been built. Looks like the Langley’s had upgraded their digs some.

Keys thought about the area behind the Langley property. He’d explored a lot but he’d always respected signs of private property when he saw them. No matter what the Langley’s had said, he’d been a good kid.

He’d been lost in his thoughts and memories and hadn’t noticed the figure carrying another over its shoulder. The back door opened. A thud followed by a slam brought him out of his head. Keys didn’t look behind him, aware the old bitch was back there just over the third-row seat.

None of them said another word, ignoring the muffled sounds from the very back. The Private Property signs looked newer than the last time he’d been there. Traeger kept driving, the big SUV bouncing along the uneven road where someone had conveniently already taken down the fencing.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to a structure that blended into the scenery. Had they not known it was there, they’d have missed it. “Fuck, what kind of place is this?” he asked, opening his door.

The mountain had been carved out, boasting a three-story glass front home. The pictures Palmer had described came to mind. He hadn’t thought the home could be anywhere in Lionsville because no home had floor to ceiling windows with views of the mountains. That was one image she’d said had stuck out to her, that someone had taken of a victim being abused against the glass, while others stood around drinking. Now he could see it happening in one of the levels in front of him sometime in the past and to think, he had only been down the road while that shit had been going on.

The sound of other doors opening jarred him. He remembered Claire, the bitch who’d allowed him to be abused, treated him like trash for eighteen fucking years, was in the back, probably wondering what was going on. Keys cracked his neck, walking with a purpose to help Duke get her out. Not that he needed help, but he might need assistance in keeping himself from killing her right then and there, him, not Duke that was.

He jerked the door open, grasping the potato sack they’d placed over her head as soon as he had placed her on the ground. “I like this little added touch, brother. Gives a little mystery to the unveiling don’t you think. Hello, Claire, long time no see.”

Her face was lined but she still looked the same with dull grey hair, wire thin and a perpetual scowl firmly in place. “Do I know you? You should be aware the sheriff is a good friend of mine, and so is the mayor.”

She tossed the names out like they should be scared.

Keys tugged her head back by the bun she wore. “Bitch, you could know the President of the United States and it wouldn’t save your nasty ass right now. Look around you. You recognize where we are?”

She grimaced but didn’t cry out. Keys made a note of her reactions. The woman didn’t seem to dislike pain. In fact, if he was correct, she enjoyed it. On instinct, he released his hold, hearing her whimper. Fuck, he felt dirty knowing he’d excited her. “Duke, I think we got a pain slut here.”

“Is that right? Too bad none of us like nasty old bitches. Koyn and the boys are inside. Let’s see if she likes their version of pain. Bet she don’t. Hell, nobody likes that shit.” Traeger shook his head.

Chapter Thirteen

Keys pushed Claire ahead of him, doing his best to keep his hands off of her. No way in hell would he hurt her knowing she’d get off on it. Sick fucking cunt. God, it twisted his guts to know she enjoyed that shit. He had been looking forward to a little comeuppance.

They stepped onto the path, lights coming on the pathway. Koyn stood by the door smoking a cigarette.

“Took you four long enough. I see you brought company.” Koyn flicked the ash of his cigarette onto the floor in the entryway.

“There’s no smoking inside The Domicile,” Claire snarled.

“Is that what you call this place?”