Page 8 of Off the Rails

We’d had a handful of playthings over the years, but I could already tell that this one was special. I never got an excuse to use the needle — none of the others had bothered putting up a fight.

But it was so much more fun that she did.

I loved feeling her thrash against our grips, kicking uselessly until her limbs went numb. I could get used to the feeling of subduing her. I could wrestle her like that forever.

“Blade.” Cyrus grumbled, shifting the pretty little doll on her shoulder.

“My turn?” I picked up the pace, reaching out a hand to touch the girl.

But Cyrus turned to face me, pulling the prisoner just out of my reach. “The door.”

“Why do I have to get it?” I pouted as Nash breezed up behind me.

“Hands are kind of full.” She hefted the mallet against her shoulder. “Would you rather be on lookout?”

“No,” I muttered. The roaches were already dead — standing guard would be so boring.

Instead, I bounded up ahead, passing under the rickety wooden sign for the Old Frontier.

It was one of my favorite sections of the park — a dingy little old west town that had only grown more dilapidated with age. Down cobblestone roads, there was an old saloon, a blacksmith, and a railway ride right outside the general store. Then, there was the building we’d come here for: the county jail, complete with wooden stocks out front and a handlettered sign up top.

I’d spent decent stretches of the early years hanging out here and living out my cowboy dreams: shooting cans, drinking moonshine, and fashioning my best lasso. Hell, I still spent a good weekend that way, on occasion.

As I passed Cyrus and our little toy, I hardly had to sniff to pick up her scent filling the air. She even smelled pretty: sweat, dirt, and an alcohol-forward floral perfume that made my head spin. The idea of her efforts being wasted on one of those stupid little bugs made me sick.

But as I hopped the stocks, the image of her locked up at my mercy brought the smile back to my face.

This is going to be so much fun.

As Cyrus and Nash lumbered up behind me with our prize in tow, I got busy at the keypad, punching in numbers until the deadbolt clunked back into its casing. The jailhouse door swept up a small dust cloud as I kicked it in — a few months of disuse had the place feeling like a real ghost town.

I didn’t mind cleaning up quickly for our gorgeous little captive, though. I made quick work of pushing aside the old sheriff’s desk, fishing out the cell keys from under the floorboard, and fluffing up the bed for our sleeping beauty.

Just in time for Cyrus to darken the doorway. “Do you mind?”

I stepped to the side, gesturing to the bed where Cyrus dropped her limp body. My shoulders tensed when the bedframe squeaked. I would have been mad at her for being careless with our new toy if her next command hadn’t thrilled me so much.

“Search her.”

“Dibs!” I called as Cyrus exited the cell to lean against the sheriff’s desk, setting her mask down with a sigh.

Meanwhile, Nash shut the jailhouse door and relocked the deadbolt, hanging her mask over the handle of her mallet. I liked to keep my mask on.

Both of them watched me carefully as I skimmed my hands over her pockets, feeling for a wallet or a phone or any other fun goodies she might be carrying.

My nerves buzzed like a livewire — it was so tempting to press my palms flat, to feel the exposed expanse of her pretty skin, to slip my hand under that little crop top and sink my fingers into the soft flesh of her.

But not like this.

Call me old-fashioned, but I liked my girls to know before I touched them like that. Much more fun when they might wake up to me, gasping so pretty while my fingers sunk in and out of their⁠—

“Got anything?” Cyrus grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“A phone.” I slid the cracked old thing from the doll’s back pocket before chucking it over to Nash. “Pretty busted up.”

“No kidding,” Nash winced, shooting me a glare as she sucked blood and glass from the fresh cut on her finger. “Locked.”

She set it on the desk next to Cyrus. “Got a guy for that?”