Chapter 1
Nineteen-year-old Jesse Benson was alone on the family ranch. His father and three brothers were away on a cattle drive, even taking fourteen-year-old Ryan for his first time. They had drawn straws, and Jesse would be left behind to watch over the ranch.
The Texas heat was brutal that afternoon. Jesse had stripped off his shirt hours ago, sweat still beading on his back as he carried the heavy saddle toward the barn. The leather was worn smooth from years of use, and he could smell the familiar scent of horse and oil that meant home.
That's when he saw Billy Williams standing in the barn doorway.
Billy was shirtless too, but something was different. He held a pistol in each hand, and Jesse could see the grip of a third one tucked into his belt. Friends since high school, Jesse looked at him with more confusion than alarm.
"Hey Billy, what's up?" Jesse called out, shifting the saddle's weight. "Want to go target practice?"
Billy stepped forward, his eyes hard in a way Jesse had never seen before. "Jesse, nice that you're alone."
The tone made Jesse's stomach drop. This wasn't his friend's voice.
"I'm going to kidnap you and hold you for ransom."
Jesse stared at him, certain he'd misheard. "What the fuck... what are you saying?"
Billy raised both pistols, and his voice turned cold. "Do as I fucking say, or I'll kneecap you."
Chapter 2
Jesse's hands trembled as he set the saddle down. This had to be some kind of sick joke. Billy wouldn't hurt him—they'd been friends for years, had each other's backs through everything.
"Billy, what the hell is wrong with you? This isn't funny."
"Drop to your knees," Billy commanded, stepping closer. "Now."
Jesse's legs felt weak, but he remained standing. "Come on, man. Whatever's going on, we can figure it out. If you need money—"
"I said drop!" Billy's voice cracked like a whip.
Jesse's knees hit the dirt. His mind raced—Billy's family had always struggled financially, but this? This was insane.
Billy pulled out a roll of duct tape from his back pocket. "Take this. Wrap it around your eyes. Keep going around your head—I want at least six times around."
"Billy, please—"
"Do it, or I'll put a bullet in your leg right now."
Jesse took the roll with shaking hands. This can't be happening. This is Billy. We've been friends since we were kids. He pressed the tape over his eyes and began wrapping it around his head. Maybe if I do what he says, he'll come to his senses.
"Keep going," Billy commanded. "More."
One... two... three... Jesse counted each wrap, the tape getting tighter with each pass. He's really making me do this. He's making me blind myself. By the sixth wrap, the pressure was almost unbearable, completely sealing out any trace of light.
"Now your mouth. Same thing—wrap it good."
Jesse's stomach lurched. I'm gagging myself. I'm helping him kidnap me. He placed the tape over his lips and began the slow, methodical wrapping. If I scream now, no one will hear me anyway. We're miles from anywhere. Each pass made it harder to breathe through his nose. Dad and the boys could be gone for who knows how long. No one knows Billy's here.
"There's rope by your feet. Tie your ankles together. Make it tight—I'll check."
In complete darkness, Jesse fumbled for the rough hemp rope. He's making me do everything myself. Why? His fingers worked clumsily with the knots. Maybe this is just about money. Maybe if Dad pays, he'll let me go. But even as he pulled the rope tight around his ankles, cutting off his last chance to run, something in Billy's voice told him this was about much more than money.
"Good boy," Billy's voice was different now—satisfied, almost pleased. "Now put your hands behind your back."
Jesse felt Billy's rough hands grab his wrists, wrapping them with more rope. The bonds were much tighter than anything Jesse had done to himself.
"Almost done," Billy whispered near his ear. Then came the chemical smell of chloroform and the damp rag pressed against his nose.
Jesse's last conscious thought was the betrayal in Billy's voice—not desperation, but anticipation.
Chapter 3
Jesse's head pounded as consciousness slowly returned. His mouth felt like cotton, and there was a chemical taste lingering on his tongue. Where am I?
He tried to move and immediately felt the bite of rope against his wrists and ankles. The duct tape was still wrapped around his eyes and mouth, but looser now—he could make out dim light through gaps where his sweat had loosened the adhesive.
The barn. Billy. Oh God, it really happened.
He was lying on his side on what felt like a wooden floor. The air smelled musty and old. This isn't the ranch. Where did he take me?
Jesse tried to shift position and gasped through his nose at the pain. His shoulders felt like they were being pulled from their sockets—his arms had been wrenched behind his back and bound with what felt like multiple loops of rope. The hemp cut deep into his wrists, and his hands were completely numb from the circulation being cut off.
His legs were bent backward in an agonizing arch, ankles tied to his wrists in a brutal hogtie that left him completely helpless. Every small movement sent fire through his shoulders and lower back. The rope around his ankles had been wrapped so many times that it felt like a tourniquet, and his feet were starting to tingle from lack of blood flow.
How long was I out? Everything hurts so much.
Additional ropes circled his chest and upper arms, pinning his elbows together behind his back in a way that made every breath a struggle. Billy had clearly taken his time while Jesse was unconscious, adding layer after layer of restraints.
I can barely move at all. He's got me trussed up like an animal.
He heard footsteps approaching, then Billy's voice, strangely cheerful.
"Good, you're awake. I was starting to worry I gave you too much chloroform."
Jesse tried to speak through the gag, managing only muffled sounds.
"Oh right, you can't talk. Well, that's fine. I need to take some pictures anyway."
Pictures? Jesse's blood went cold. For the ransom. He's going to send Dad photos of me tied up.
He heard the click of a camera phone, the flash penetrating even through the tape around his eyes.
"Perfect. Your dad's going to pay up real quick when he sees his boy all trussed up like this."
Dad will pay. Billy will get his money and let me go. This nightmare will be over.
But then Billy's voice changed, becoming softer, almost intimate.
"You know, Jesse, I've been thinking about this for a long time. Years, actually."
What does he mean?
The camera clicked again. And again.
"These aren't all going to your daddy."
Chapter 4
Billy ripped the tape from Jesse's eyes in one violent motion, taking skin with it. Jesse blinked rapidly, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light of what looked like an abandoned cabin.
Billy was sitting in a chair just a few feet away, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at Jesse with an intensity that made his skin crawl. There was something different in his expression—a hunger that Jesse had never seen before.
"There we go. I want you to see my face when I tell you what's really happening here."
Jesse's heart pounded as he took in Billy's appearance. His friend was breathing heavily, pupils dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the cool air in the cabin. Billy's hands were trembling slightly with what looked like excitement.
"You think this is about money, don't you Jesse?" Billy's voice was thick, almost breathless. "You think I'm desperate, that I just need a quick payday."
Billy stood up and began pacing, his movements restless and agitated. He kept running his hands through his hair, his breathing becoming more rapid.
"I've been watching you for years, Jesse. Watching how you move, how you work on the ranch. All those times we went swimming, all those nights camping out." Billy's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined you exactly like this."
Oh God. Oh God no.
Billy crouched down next to Jesse, close enough that Jesse could feel his breath on his face. Billy's eyes were wild now, his pupils so dilated they looked black.
"The money is just a bonus. What I really want is time. Hours and hours with you, helpless like this, knowing that every rope, every knot—I put it there."
Billy reached out and traced one of the ropes binding Jesse's chest, his touch lingering. "Look how perfectly trapped you are. I did this to you. I made you tie yourself up for me."
Jesse tried to speak through the gag, panic rising in his throat.
"Shh," Billy whispered, his face flushed with excitement. "We have all the time in the world now. And I'm going to savor every second of it."
Chapter 5
Two hours had passed. Two hours of Billy describing in vivid detail every torment he had planned, every fantasy he'd harbored about Jesse bound and helpless.
"I've got pliers in my bag," Billy had whispered early on, his eyes gleaming. "Know what I'm going to do with your fingernails, Jesse? One by one, real slow."
Jesse had tried to block out the words, but Billy's voice was relentless.
"After that, I'm thinking about fire. Just little burns at first—cigarettes maybe. See how you like that on those rope burns." Billy had run his finger along Jesse's raw wrists. "Then bigger flames. I want to hear you scream for hours."
The worst part wasn't just the descriptions—it was Billy's obvious excitement as he spoke. His voice would get breathless, his movements more agitated, like he was getting high off Jesse's terror.
"I've been dreaming about cutting you too," Billy had continued, pacing around Jesse's bound form. "Nothing fatal—not yet. Just enough to watch you bleed. Watch you realize how helpless you really are."
Jesse's mind felt fractured from the psychological assault, his body screaming from the unrelenting rope burns that had developed over hours of struggling.
Billy had barely left his side, sometimes whispering directly in Jesse's ear, other times pacing around him like a predator circling prey. The anticipation was its own form of torture.
"Your daddy should have gotten my message by now," Billy said, checking his phone. "But you know what? I'm getting impatient. Time to start the real fun."
Jesse's blood turned to ice as Billy disappeared from view, returning with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
"This is going to hurt, Jesse. A lot. But don't worry—this is just the beginning."
Billy uncapped the bottle and the sharp, medicinal smell filled the cabin. Jesse tried to struggle against his bonds, but the movement only made the ropes cut deeper into his raw skin.
"Hold still now," Billy whispered.
The alcohol hit Jesse's rope burns like liquid fire. He screamed through the gag, his back arching as much as the restraints would allow. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever experienced—every abraded inch of skin felt like it was being branded.
Billy poured slowly, methodically, covering each rope burn on Jesse's wrists, ankles, and chest. Jesse's muffled screams echoed through the cabin as tears streamed down his face.
"Beautiful," Billy breathed, watching Jesse writhe in agony.
Just as Billy reached for the bottle again, the cabin door exploded inward.
"DROP YOUR WEAPON!"
Billy spun around, grabbing for his gun, but the deputy's shot was faster. Billy crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
Jesse's father and brothers rushed in as the sheriff secured the scene, their faces a mixture of relief and horror at seeing Jesse's condition.
"Get him free," his father commanded, his voice breaking. "Get my boy free."
Chapter 6
When they finally cut the gag from Jesse's mouth, no words came out. Only broken sobs that shook his entire body.
His father knelt beside him as the deputies worked to free his wrists. "Jesse, son, you're safe now. It's over."
Jesse stared at nothing, his voice barely a whisper. "He... he said he'd been watching me. For years."
"Don't think about that now," his father said, but Jesse wasn't hearing him.
"All those times we hung out... he was thinking about..." Jesse's voice cracked. "I trusted him. I trusted him completely."
The ropes finally fell away, but Jesse couldn't move. His arms hung limp at his sides, circulation slowly returning in painful tingles.
"I helped him," Jesse said, his voice hollow. "He made me tie the ropes myself. He made me put the tape on my own eyes."
His brother Ryan reached out to touch his shoulder, but Jesse flinched away.
"I can still hear his voice," Jesse whispered. "Everything he was going to do to me. He described it all. Every... every detail."
The sheriff approached carefully. "Son, we need to get you to a hospital. You're in shock."
Jesse finally looked up, his eyes unfocused and distant. "He's dead, right? You're sure he's dead?"
"Yes, son. He can't hurt you anymore."
But Jesse was already retreating back into himself, his mind unable to process the betrayal, the terror, or the knowledge that his childhood friend had been his predator all along.
