Sons of Justice 10 Deliver Us from Evil

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “Are you feeling okay?” Basile asked her.

  “Mmm,” she mumbled and then trailed her finger lower, and he tightened his abs.

  “This is an amazing tattoo. It must have taken a lot of sessions to complete it,” Vacarro said to her and then kissed her shoulder.

  She turned her head to look at him, and in doing so, Basile rolled her to her back as Vacarro pressed her arm up above her head. She gasped, her breasts pushed forward, and Basile pushed the sheets down off her body, revealing her completely to all of them.

  Spadaro and Tat joined them on the bed. She kept her other arm down because it was obvious why they wanted her like this, exposed, unable to hide or turn. They saw the scar, and they wanted answers, wanted to know what happened to her, and what danger she was in.

  “We can see the scarring. It isn’t obvious unless you’re very close and really look hard,” Vacarro said to her and then traced the scar with his fingertip.

  She held his gaze and stared into his dark brown eyes, absorbing the seriousness in his tone and in his facial expression as he remained looking into her eyes, to her soul. She was mesmerized by their sizes, by how gently they stroked her skin, made love to her, and handled her. She remembered a moment while they made love to her together, how she felt so cherished and cared for. Like a protective shield was wrapped around her body and nothing dangerous or evil could penetrate it. Was that a special power these men had? An ability as soldiers, as members of Sons of Justice, she wondered.

  She swallowed hard, trying to gather her thoughts as she stared at Vacarro. Vacarro had big neck muscles and wide muscular shoulders that came down into a V as they reached his hips. He was defined, sexy, without an ounce of fat on his body. Pure muscle, and he sported the least tattoos of the four of them. Just one intricate knife, American flag, and a medallion all in black with shades of gray, but nothing more.

  “You’re not supposed to be able to see it. That’s why I got the tattoo. Plastic surgery could only partially remove the symbol that was there,” she said and then licked her lip.

  Basile stroked her belly and hip.

  She looked at him.

  “Can you tell us about it? About what happened?”

  “Do I have to?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Tat stated deeply and in a firm, commanding tone.

  She used her free hand and turned slightly as she traced her own skin. She stared at the spot, and sometimes when she woke in a sweat, recovered from a panic attack, she caressed the area with her finger and vividly remembered Barishna’s actions. She sometimes heard his voice, smelled his cologne and it sent her into a dark place. A place where she was completely alone and he still held power over her.

  “Talia?” Basile said her name and then lowered down and pressed soft kisses to her cheeks and then her forehead. “We’re here. We will protect you. In order to do that fully, you need to tell us as much as you can.”

  “You need to tell us everything,” Spadaro commanded.

  She looked at Spadaro and then back toward her tattoo. The beautiful intricate flowers, all different sizes, shaded in between in vibrant colors like a canvas to be hung on a wall and admired. Barishna’s mark of possession was her battle wound, a work of art, covered in beauty, yet the pain and the evil were buried deep, and she would never let it surface again.

  “It was the letter B, and it was carved into my skin as I was tied down to a bed, clothes torn, and body battered.” She wouldn’t look at them. Couldn’t face the potential disgust they might show in their eyes toward her.

  “I was a prisoner, a possession, a slave to Barishna. He controlled me with threats, with abuse and ownership.” She was silent a moment, wondering where to start and worried about getting through this without them changing their minds about her.

  “There wasn’t a thing I could do.” Tears filled her eyes, and she rolled toward Vacarro, who released her arm, and she held onto his forearm. Basile moved closer. He kissed her shoulder.

  “Spartan told Tat that your father sold you to a businessman.”

  She squeezed Vacarro’s arm and leaned closer. He caressed her hair.

  “I was twenty-two. I graduated from college early, and a year prior I started my own small company. A business selling fabrics from small little shops. I was starting to expand a little and was at a party, a fundraising event in Sienna.”

  “Sienna, Italy?” Tat asked.

  “Yes, it’s where I lived and worked, and I did a lot of traveling throughout all of Northern Italy mostly. At this party is where I first met Barishna.”

  “Last name?” Spadaro asked.

  She didn’t look at him. “Lingara. A wealthy businessman who made his money by buying out failing businesses, then flipping them into success businesses or reselling them for profit.”

  “A criminal though?” Vacarro asked her.

  She looked up at him and shook her head.

  “Perhaps in more recent years, because he is such a narcissist and expects only the best and is never satisfied with any of his successes and achievements. I saw him only as a businessman until he did something to double-cross his partner, Milton Solenerno, and that was the night he cut me.”

  “So because of this party, you what? Met him, fell for his charms, and your father wanted you to marry him?” Tat asked, sounding a bit abrasive.

  “That would be easier to digest, to say something like that occurred instead of the truth. Barishna spotted me before I was even introduced to him. He saw me and knew I would be his woman, his possession—he told me all about it. Pounded into my brain how he saved me from being taken, used by so many men who came sniffing and showing interest. He didn’t leave me alone. He was everywhere I went, or Sierran was.” She shivered and clenched her eyes tight.

  “Sierran?” Basile asked.

  “Sierran was my personal escort and bodyguard. Barishna’s insurance that I didn’t try to run away, or appear as if I was paying attention to anyone else.”

  “What do you mean?” Tat asked.

  She shook her head. She wouldn’t go into details like that with them. She couldn’t. She was ashamed, and she also never spoke of the treatment she sustained.

  “Something happened between my father and Barishna. The next thing I know, my father sells me off to him for money, and some business deal. My life, my independence, my future was all under Barishna’s control.”

  “You couldn’t get any help? Not the police? Or a friend, no one?” Vacarro asked.

  She chuckled in what sounded weak and sarcastic at the same time.

  She lifted up and pressed back. Pulled the covers up over her body and then sat up against the headboard. She looked at them. Tears filled her eyes.

  “I will not tell you every detail of the pain, of the things that evil, sick bastard did to me. How he took my virginity, which made him obsessed with owning me. I was his possession, his number one jewel, and I was to show respect to him, full attention to him and him only, and if I dared to speak, to smile cordially, politely to another man, someone at a party or meeting, I suffered for that.”

  “Suffered how? He struck you?” Basile asked her.

  “Sometimes, and other times he put me on display in front of those men, his main security and partners, and stroked me, caressed me, exposed part of my body, and I was to stand there and submit. My arms by my sides, eyes closed, like his touch aroused me and being on display turned me on, and showed the other men I belonged to Barishna, and Barishna only,” she whispered as a tear fell, and she quickly wiped it away.

  “Sick bastard,” Spadaro whispered.

  “I started to resist him, to fight him on his treatment of me, especially in public. I began to question his moves, his abuse, and tell him that I was going to leave him. That my father did not have a right to sell me to him. That’s when things got worse, and apparently my brother and his team realized that I had been lying to protect them. To ensure that Nathan didn’t get hurt or killed by Sierran and Barishna, I told my br
other I hated him. That Barishna was my everything. I lied, so that Nathan would live.”

  “Nathan? You have a brother?” Tat asked.

  “He’s in the service as a Green Beret. He and his team—Spade, Cole, Woodrow, and Bronco—made a plan of action, finagled some sort of opportunity to get me out of Barishna’s estate.”

  “Holy shit. We met them. Well, not Spade and Nathan,” Tat said.

  “Oh shit, this is getting worse by the second. That’s what Flame and them were discussing. Those men, her brother’s team were after Portros because they’re trying to track down Barishna to kill him,” Tat said.

  She let them talk back and forth about the mission and about Locust getting away. It was a complete mess.

  “My brother is already being watched. He’s remained away from me for three years in order to protect my location, so Barishna and his men can’t find me.”

  “So he’s still looking for you? Still wants you back?” Vacarro asked.

  She nodded and swallowed the lump of emotions in her throat but also felt her nose fill up and tears sting her eyes.

  “I haven’t seen Nathan or his team in three years. Not since they rescued me that night when Milton’s men attacked.”

  “So they got you out of there and then what happened?” Basile asked.

  “They had to leave the service, their positions, but they were friends with Spartan and Cesar. Knew them from years ago or something. I think they were part of SoJ for a short period of time, but gave that up to hunt Barishna and keep me safe. We had too many close calls. I was recovering as quickly as I could, but it wasn’t easy, and the jumping around from place to place, hiding out, being in disguise, took its toll on me, and the panic attacks were constant. I was so scared. Scared of my own shadow. Scared to even fall asleep, and when exhaustion came, I was so lost in my nightmares that Nathan, Spade, Cole, Woodrow, and Bronco couldn’t help me get out of them. I needed consistency, a stable environment, a routine, and comfort.”

  “So they sent you to Repose alone?” Spadaro barked, obviously getting upset at the little bit she explained. She certainly was going to keep the deep, dark actions of Barishna to herself.

  “No. Cole’s cousin, Frankie, was retiring from the service. My brother and the team were going to set some roots nearby, as well, but they realized that it wouldn’t be smart or safe for them to do so because it could lead Barishna to me. So Frankie and I lived together, and he trained me in martial arts and self-defense. He helped to ease my anxiety attacks and build my self-confidence, and ultimately have the strength and the determination to live on my own.”

  “Frankie? The guy you were having lunch with?” Vacarro asked.

  “The one who kept touching you?” Basile asked.

  “You were lovers? Is that how he healed you?” Spadaro asked.

  She shook her head. She looked at Basile and Vacarro and took their hands, placed them on her lap.

  “Frankie is family, like a brother to me, and he took care of me, and he helped me in ways that I could never repay him for. We’re close. Super close, and I won’t lie and say that I didn’t cling to him, and that many nights he held me in his arms and comforted me, but it wasn’t sexual, or anything. He was my rock. He still is. I love him so much, and he saved me. He trained me, and I’m a different woman because of him. Frankie, Nathan, the whole team, gave up their professional lives, their personal lives to keep me safe and to hunt Barishna down. I owe them everything.”

  “He held you in bed, and you’re going to tell me he didn’t make a move? Is he gay?” Spadaro spat.

  She chuckled. “Hell no. He’s a good man, and you’ll all need to respect him and accept my relationship with him, because I would do anything for Frankie and he would do anything for me,” she said to them, releasing Vacarro’s hand and Basile’s hand. She pulled the sheet tighter against her.

  “Shit,” Spadaro said on an exhale.

  “Okay, so now we know what the little side meeting was about between Flame and Cole, Woodrow, and Bronco. I’m assuming you communicate with your brother through Frankie?” Tat asked.

  “I only get information from Frankie. I haven’t heard my brother’s voice or seen him in years,” she said and sniffled.

  “We’re going to need a lot of information from you in order to protect you fully and get you back together with your brother and these men you call your family,” Tat added.

  “It’s going to take a bit of work, but I bet Jed and Jaret and our other connections can get what we need and quickly,” Vacarro said.

  She was shocked as they sat there and started coming up with a plan of action to not only help get her life back, and to bring her back together with her brother and the team, but to also capture Barishna. She knelt on the bed.

  “Are you serious? I don’t want anything to happen to any of you. I would die if you got killed,” she said.

  Tat came closer, knelt on the bed and cupped her cheek with one hand and placed his hand on her hip with the other hand. He pulled her close.

  “Sweetie, we’re your guardians, your lovers, your men, and you’re our woman. We’re going to bring this situation to an end. We have connections your brother and his team don’t have. I know it’s going to be tough, but you need to confide in us. To answer our questions, to help us end this once and for all. Can you do that, baby?” he asked her, and she reached up and cupped his cheek like he was touching hers.

  “I’ll do whatever you ask me to do. I trust all of you completely. I just don’t want you to get hurt or God forbid, killed, because of me.”

  “We’re very resourceful and capable soldiers. Rest assured, when our eyes are on a target that needs to be eliminated, it will be eliminated,” he said and then pressed his lips to hers.

  Tat wrapped her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed. They kissed and caressed one another’s bodies, and once again, she let down her guard and opened up her heart, her body, and soul to these men, and made love again and again, until exhaustion forced them to take a rest.

  Chapter Eight

  Cherokee and Antonia stood beside Talia by the bar at the Filling Station. The men were gathered around nearby, talking still, despite the long meeting earlier today. There was so much to discuss. Talia’s head was spinning. Her emotions were raw, eyes still feeling red and burning, but it had been her friends’ idea, and the guys’, for them to stop focusing on the danger and relax.

  It was crazy, but since coming to Repose two years ago, she learned very quickly that there were more good, loyal people in this town than bad ones. That it seemed to her that groups of women, who shared similar pasts or experiences, tended to join together and become longtime friends. Never in the nearly two years she was a prisoner to Barishna’s power and control did she ever think she would be free. That she would live in America, make longtime friends she felt so close to, and never mind fall in love.

  As Antonia, Cherokee, Tiana, Marianna, Avana, and their other friends mingled and talked, making plans for the months ahead, it was so hard not to get lost in the conversation. To wish that things were different, but they weren’t.

  She eased off the stool to stand. She placed her hand behind her neck to massage the tight muscle there, and when she felt the big, warm hands on her hips, she tightened up, gasped, and turned, but Tat gripped her, slid his arms around her in a strong embrace, and instantly took the fears away. Tears stung her eyes, her heart raced, and that sensation filled her chest.

  Antonia and Cherokee saw it and went to speak, and she shook her head and calmed her breathing, and her expression showed them that she was okay. Sure, she was on edge, but as soon as she inhaled Tat’s cologne and felt his arms around her, she had that instant sensation of safety and security. But it was crowded at the Filling Station, and she was still overwhelmed and thinking of just going home and being alone with her men.

  He kissed her neck, and she turned in his arms and hugged him so tight, he squeezed her back. His palm was firm over her ass in
the skirt she wore, and his other hand went under her hair to her neck and gently caressed her scalp. His possessive, commanding hold eased her fears, her anxiety. She was scared for them. Scared for anyone close to her.

  She hadn’t seen Tat for a long period of time today as he was making phone calls and working on things that he didn’t want her to know about. She lifted up on tiptoes and reached his neck, kissed his skin, absorbed his cologne and the feel of all those hard, solid muscles, and she just kept breathing.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just hold me, Tat. Let me breathe in your scent, absorb the feel of your arms around me. Please, Tat,” she begged him and for no reason, because the man had such a hold on her there was no way she could push away, nor did she want to.

  He remained holding her, and she rocked her hips to the music, opened her eyes to see her friends watching with concern, and she smiled, nodded letting them know she was fine, and they smiled back and then continued to talk. She loved it here.

  She didn’t want to leave. To be forced out of here with fears that Barishna was coming for her. But she also wouldn’t put her friends, the men, this community in danger.

  As the night went on, she clung to each of her men. Her men, her lovers, and a display of guardianship that was now known and recognized in the community of Repose. As they called it a night and said good-bye to their friends, she held Vacarro’s hand and hugged his arm. They were heading to their place tonight. She had packed a bag, plus her things for the morning.

  “We’re meeting with Spartan, Cesar, and some local friends of ours in the morning. How about we meet for lunch afterward?” Vacarro said to her.

  “I have a lot of work to do after my training in the morning. I’m supposed to meet a client in Ausberry on Tuesday,” she said, knowing she would be meeting Ms. Chapman for the first time in person. This new contact could expand her business.

  “Is it necessary to do that anymore? You have us to train you,” Spadaro asked. She reached over, took his hand, and placed it on her knee, her legs crossed as she sat in the back seat between him and Vacarro.