The Battlefield Series 2: Scars Run Deep (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  He gave a soft smile.

  “I think we lost you there a minute. Are you feeling okay?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine” she whispered.

  He felt how delicate her small hands were, and instantly, he felt protective of her. Gino stared into her eyes and could see her fear and sadness.

  “I bet you’re tired. Are you still cold?” he asked and rubbed her hands with his.

  She shook her head, but her cheeks turned a nice shade of red. That was good because his cock pretty much had been hard since he saw her in her wet top and realized how well-endowed she was. He pushed those thoughts away. Antonia was not going to be like other women he had been with. No easy lays, no forgetting making love the day after. No way. He knew this was different. He felt different, and suddenly he was wondering when she would be accepting enough to let him kiss her. Hell, let them all kiss her.

  Cesar placed his arm around her shoulder, and she panicked. There was no mistaking the fear she had or her reaction as she shoved her chair back, knocking it onto the floor and then trying to act as though she hadn’t just reacted like she did.

  “Oh, God, I’m so clumsy. I’m sorry. You know what? I’m really tired. I worked all night, and I’ve got this headache coming on. Do you mind?”

  Fox started cleaning up, his expression strong with his displeasure at her reaction and apparent fear of them. However, Cesar didn’t seem to want to budge or accept her ending the night. It was as if he wanted her to know she was safe but also that they were men who took charge and were her guardians. It was a tough balancing line to maneuver around such a fearful woman.

  Cesar took her hand and pulled her between his legs where he sat on the stool. She gripped his forearms and tightened up. His look was firm, and Gino remained sitting right there, too, as Fox and Damon cleaned up.

  Cesar kept his hands on her hips and squeezed her closer. His legs encased her thighs, and she stared at him.

  “Why did you react that way?” Cesar questioned as only he could do.

  She was quiet but opened her mouth to speak and then stopped.

  “Did we scare you? Gino and I touching you at the same time? Now be honest,” he pushed, not letting her deny it.

  She nodded. Gino’s gut clenched. Maybe she didn’t feel attracted to them. Maybe she really wasn’t interested.

  “I want you to know something and know that we’re going to prove my words to you and you’ll see.” He ran his one hand up her waist to her shoulder and cheek, cupping it while his other hand remained on her hip, holding her steady.

  “My brothers and I are here to protect you. We will never do anything to hurt you in any way. Now you know I run a clean and safe town. I’m the one who ensures that every citizen is protected and kept safe. It’s a big deal, me making this claim to be your guardian with my brothers. It means we want to get to know you. We want to gain your trust and help you to see that not every man is abusive, nor wants to degrade women or make them feel weak and scared. On the contrary, we want you to feel strong, confident, and, most importantly, safe. We don’t want to see that fearful look in your eyes. It kills us, baby.” He caressed her skin.

  Gino hadn’t expected her to try and turn away, or that the reason wasn’t because she didn’t want them, but rather because she was trying to hide the tear that he saw roll down her cheek.

  Gino stood up, towering over her but taking another chance. He cupped her cheeks and used his thumb to wipe away the tears.

  “Never be scared of us touching you, caring for you, or being close to you. Get used to it, darling. We’re not going anywhere.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly. He felt her tense right before, perhaps afraid he would kiss her lips, but he wouldn’t force that on her. He wanted her reaching for him, for them, and needing their touch.

  He stepped back, releasing her, and Cesar pulled her into an embrace.

  “Trust us, baby. We’ll take our time. Friends first.”

  Chapter 4

  “They did what?” Brooklyn asked, standing next to Antonia in the office at the Filling Station.

  Antonia explained everything that had happened and what was going through her head, but Brooklyn kept focusing on the fact that the chief of police had claimed guardianship of her sister.

  “This is huge, Antonia. I mean huge. Jesus,” Brooklyn said, pacing in her office and running her fingers through her hair.

  Antonia was shaking, and Brooklyn was making matters worse. Antonia couldn’t even sleep last night. She didn’t eat and was feeling about ready to pass out.

  “No wonder you haven’t eaten and look like you’re about to fall over. You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” Brooklyn asked her.

  Antonia closed her eyes and willed the tears to go away, but thoughts of Ray and the control he still had on her filled her mind. She’d lied about his abuse in the past. Never let on to his beatings, his forceful words, or how he’d broken down her confidence and overpowered her with his strength, size, and arrogance. She also never told Brooklyn about that night and how she sustained her injuries or how she got away. Nor did she tell Brooklyn her greatest fear—that Ray would come looking for her.

  The tears rolled down her cheeks, and Brooklyn cursed then pulled her into her arms. Antonia was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Don’t cry, baby girl. Please don’t cry. I promise everything will be okay. You can handle this. You deserve to be happy and to feel safe. If you don’t care for Cesar and his brothers, that’s one thing, but if it’s that you’re scared because of Ray and because of that scar you have, then that isn’t fair or right.”

  She felt Brooklyn’s words to her heart and found comfort in her sister’s support and embrace. She pulled back and looked at her. Brooklyn had tears in her eyes, too.

  “Why would they want a woman as young as me and with a scar like I have? They have to know about it. Cesar was there the night I arrived at Nevin’s.”

  “Obviously they don’t care. They like you. It’s been clear from the start how the chief always kept eyes on you and even stopped by the house with coffee and those cinnamon buns. You called him, not 911, when that crazy man broke into the house. You trust him and care about him already. How do you feel about Damon, Fox, and Gino?”

  “They scare me.”

  “How so?”

  “They have this look in their eyes. I can’t explain it, but it’s like they’ve seen bad, terrible things and don’t trust easily.”

  “They’re soldiers. I know that look. My men get that expression sometimes. Not as intense as I’ve seen Fox and Gino but still along the same lines. It doesn’t mean they would hurt you or use their capabilities on you. You know that. Right?” her sister asked, raising one of her eyebrows up at her.

  Antonia plopped down into the seat by Brooklyn’s desk. Brooklyn took the other seat and scooted closer.

  “Ray wasn’t even a soldier, and he did things Brooklyn. He still has a hold on me.”

  “What? Why would he? You fought and got away from him.”

  “I didn’t tell you anything really. Just that he tried to make me have sex with another man that night.”

  “You said them, like there was more than one.”

  “There was an orgy going on.”

  “Asshole.”

  “He wanted me to take drugs, these pills that would take the edge off and make me more relaxed.”

  “Oh, God, baby, you took them.”

  “No. I pretended to and mimicked the behavior of his friends who had taken them.” More tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “He kissed another woman in front of me, wanted me to have sex with other men, and even let the women touch me, too.”

  Brooklyn covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head in anger. “How could he?”

  Antonia rambled on, explaining about the other men touching her, undressing her with Ray’s consent as he fingered a woman and kissed her while Antonia tried resisting the hands of the other men. She’d left out so muc
h she had told Carina last week and they shared their stories. She needed to tell Brooklyn everything so she could help her and would understand that if she needed to leave and why.

  “How did you stop them? You told Nevin they didn’t rape you.”

  “They didn’t. It came close, Brooklyn. I won’t lie. I tried running, and they held me down. That’s how I got the scratches and bruises all over my breasts and thighs. They touched me down there but didn’t rape me. As the drugs they took kicked in, I was able to get away from them and run to the other room. Ray followed, and he was fuming mad. Disgusted that I’d embarrassed him in front of colleagues, friends in this special group he had that I never knew about. I realized that, when he would leave me for the weekend or overnight on so-called business, he was at parties like this one he threw at the penthouse. He was cheating on me with other women.”

  “Oh, my God, Antonia, was he abusive before this? Had he hit you?” Brooklyn asked.

  Antonia covered her mouth and clenched her eyes closed. “Yes.”

  “Son of a bitch. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you leave him.” She raised her voice.

  “It was my own fault. I allowed it. I didn’t fight back. I let it get worse and worse.” Brooklyn caressed her arms.

  “I gave him my virginity. I loved him with all my heart and gave him everything Brooklyn. All of me. All my trust, my heart, my acceptance, and he knew about our childhood, about Owen, and he used it to manipulate me and repeatedly told me he was the only man who would ever love me and protect me. What was I to do? I believed him. No other man did the things he did. He was attentive, consoling, compassionate, and so obsessed with me that he knew about every move I made. He paid attention to me all the time, picked out clothes for me, and bought me things, took me places I couldn’t even dream about going to.”

  “He was controlling you. Forcing you to believe that you couldn’t do things without him or, at minimum, his consent. A batterer and manipulator and you fell right into it. It’s what men like him do. It’s what Kevin partially did with me,” Brooklyn admitted.

  “Aren’t you afraid that your men could turn out to be the same way?” she asked Brooklyn.

  Brooklyn shook her head. “They’re real men, soldiers, good people with good upbringings and would never lay a hand on a woman, ever. I think the chief, his family, and most men around here are the same way. Look how they run this town. Look at the idea of guardianship and the ménage relationships that seem to last and help heal all involved. My men have their battle wounds, too, just like I do. I’m certain the chief and his brothers have theirs, just like you do. Maybe it’s fate that brought us both here. Maybe it’s downright time we take what we want and need and stop living in fear, Antonia.”

  “I don’t think I can, Brooklyn. The truth of the matter is it doesn’t matter what I feel for the chief and his brothers or whether I’m willing to let go of the fear and let them into my heart and into my life. Ray is going to come looking for me. It’s only a matter of time. I’m not foolish enough to believe he won’t or that he gave up because I took off. You don’t know him Brooklyn. He’s capable of things. He’ll hunt me down and take me back because I belong to him, and this damn scar is his mark of ownership.”

  Brooklyn shook her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. The sight made Antonia cry only more.

  “I won’t let him find you and get to you. I won’t. He can’t have you back. You can fight him. My men and I, this town, the chief and his brothers will protect you from him.”

  She shook her head, and Brooklyn gave her shoulders a shake and made her look at her.

  “Don’t you want to fight him? Don’t you want to be rid of him once and for all?”

  “He won’t let that happen. You don’t know him, Brooklyn. He’ll find a way, and when he does…”

  Brooklyn shook her head. “No. No, I won’t let him find you or take you back. Nor will the chief and his brothers or any man in this town. I understand that he must have made threats and enforced rules and imprinted his power over you in your head to make you stay so long with him and accept his abuse. The bottom line is that you made the choice to not let him share you with those strange men. You stopped his control by not taking the drugs and observing, seeing for yourself, what his intentions were and how, in actuality, he was using you and saw you as a possession, someone he controlled. You took off and got out of there. You took control of your life, your body and soul, and you left. In that moment the new you began to grow and gain strength. Your new life started the second you called me and told me you were in trouble and headed here. He is the past. His power over you, his abuse, his words and control are dead.

  “You start telling yourself that. You imprint it in your head. You make yourself stronger and start doing what you want and act on what you feel, Antonia. You do as I did and you fight. Hell, I should be in jail, behind bars for crimes I didn’t commit, and I would be if I hadn’t stood up for myself and fought. I did, damn it, and you are going to as well. You are not Mamma. You hear me. You are not her. You’re stronger, braver, smarter, and you have a fight in you that can only grow deeper the more you achieve. You are not alone, baby girl. I am right here with you, and Ray, if he’s stupid enough to come looking, won’t know what hit him.”

  Antonia immediately hugged her sister. Brooklyn was her rock as always, and she was right. Antonia didn’t want to be weak anymore or to be a victim. She needed to start gaining that confidence and put away the demons. It was time to start living again.

  * * * *

  Ray Cohen stared at the empty space. His head was pounding, and his eyes burned. He was completely hung over from another night’s binge of drugs, alcohol, and sex, everything, and anything, to try to get her out of his head. He clenched his teeth and caressed the cool sheets where Antonia used to lie. His heart hammered inside of his chest. He was dying inside. Nothing, no one, compared to her.

  He rolled to his back and covered his face with his hands as the flashbacks rocked his mind.

  She screamed and cried as his buddies stripped her of her clothing, and he helped by punching her, beating her into submission. She was supposed to be accepting. The drugs were meant to make her accessible to him, to anyone he gave permission to.

  “Fuck.” He grunted aloud and rubbed his hands back and forth over his skin, feeling it burn from the hard strokes.

  He’d fucked up big time. He’d lost the best thing that ever happened to him. Antonia was soft, petite, sexy, and submissive. She was easy going, lovable, compassionate, and a hard worker. She’d obeyed him up until that night. Up until he made the stupid decision to involve her in his fantasies. She was better than those women, yet the idea of owning her, of being so powerful he could snap his fingers and tell anyone to do what he asked to her, made him feel superior. She was his possession, a trophy, the perfect mate.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he roared and pushed himself up, only to feel his head throb something terrible and bile fill his throat. He tried to submerge the after-effects of another night of torture trying to get Antonia out of his mind.

  He rolled to his belly and hung his arm over the bed as the room spun and spun.

  His eyes locked on the silky material of her green lingerie. Lingerie he’d bought her at one of the finest boutiques in Milan. He gripped it tight, brought it to his nose, and inhaled. He could hardly smell her anymore. He inhaled again, again, deeper, deeper until he felt the tears sting his eyes, his heart ache, and his stomach lurch with disgust and anger.

  He rolled off the bed and ran to the bathroom, hitting the doorframe, blindly reaching out to grasp at whatever he could to get to the toilet in time. He fell to his knees hit his head on the rim of the toilet as his stomach lurched and lurched until he was dry heaving and dizzy once again.

  He closed his eyes and willed the pain, the sickness, and the emptiness to go away.

  It wouldn’t.

  He saw her face. The fear, the sadness at what he had asked of her
. To let men, associates of his, have a taste of her. So sweet, so sensual, his little virgin who’d had only him as a lover, no one else. His associates drooled at the prospect of tasting something so pure. Other women they knew and shared were experienced, with loads of lovers on their list. Not Antonia.

  He rolled to his back. The cool marble flooring stung slightly yet eased the overheated sensation he felt.

  He stared up at the ceiling. He had to have her back. She belonged to him. He’d cut her, scarred her so no other man would ever want to touch her again because they would know she was taken.

  “By me. Mine, and no other man will ever have what is mine,” he said, his voice cracking and hoarse.

  His stomach rumbled and moaned. He had to stop this rampage of disaster. He couldn’t be at his best if he was strung out on drugs and alcohol. He needed his mind sharp, his determination to get back what belonged to him a key focus. He would have her in his bed once again. Antonia would be in his arms, kissing his neck, offering her body to him and only him.

  He wondered where she was. He envisioned her in his head. Her gorgeous green eyes, her sexy body, so giving. He clenched his fists. He’d had the perfect submissive woman in his arms, in his life, in his bed. Where could she be? Who could she be with?

  His eyes widened, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The room spun a little less this time as he tried focusing and clearing his head.

  She wouldn’t be with another man. He shook his head at the thought. No, no, she wouldn’t dare be with another man. She belongs to me.

  He had that strong, deep feeling in his gut. Anger began to overtake all other thoughts. He needed to get sober. To clear his head and get his shit together.