The American Soldier Collection 7: Their Sin City Showgirl (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “You’re up kind of early,” Conway said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “You are, too,” she replied, and they locked gazes.

  It was like a game. She wanted to figure out who they really were and whether or not they were trustworthy, and they were doing the same with her. She didn’t like feeling as if she were living in a fishbowl. Why did they have to watch her every move? It was unnerving, especially since certain body parts immediately reacted.

  “I have some things to go over in the surveillance room with Lincoln. Brook and Calder will be around the house. If you need anything, just holler.”

  “I won’t need anything,” she replied and then started to make the pancakes. She had to truly focus on the task at hand to not burn these damn things, too. Why the hell did she decide to take on this task? Especially now, when she felt so out of control of her emotions?

  * * * *

  Lincoln shot Conway a look as they gathered in the surveillance room after breakfast. J.J. had disappeared once again, after only having half a pancake and part of a strip of bacon. He was a bit concerned about J.J. She had totally been lost in thought and nearly burned the bacon. He’d caught her lose focus before and completely forget what she was doing. Calder mentioned that he’d witnessed her doing the same thing. If they could just get her to open up a little about her situation, maybe they could help her.

  “Is it me, or does it seem like after she zones out, she shivers as if she’s recalling something that was bad or hurt?” he asked Conway.

  “You’re probably right. Sandman didn’t give us much to go on. His friend, however he knows J.J., was insistent that we get basic information.”

  “That’s bothering me a lot right now, Conway.”

  “It’s the way it is. We know the basics. She’s in some kind of danger. Protective custody wasn’t an option with the risk of attempt so high. Sandman hinted around about her being pretty damn tough.”

  “What do you think she was involved in? Mafia related maybe?”

  “Not certain, Conway. Maybe she’ll come around and give us some info. In the interim, our orders are pretty straightforward. Protect her. Don’t let her out of our sight, and don’t trust anyone. I’d say the ones who are after her have some resources of their own.”

  “Fuck,” Lincoln replied, not liking the feeling he had inside, and about this situation at all. He wanted to know more. But right now, J.J. was their only source for information and she wasn’t budging.

  * * * *

  Calder came into the kitchen looking for J.J.

  He had updated the surveillance cameras and completed the monthly check of the equipment. Everything was operational. He had a hard time focusing on his work as he thought about the woman staying in their home. She was quite stunning, and as he had the opportunity to watch her while she wasn’t looking, he found himself concerned over her injury. That hit to her face must have been a good one. She also wore a lot of high-collared shirts or turtlenecks. He wondered if she were hiding more injuries. The thought bothered him. She was very attractive and seemed to have a great body to boot. But she hid it well.

  He decided to check on her and see what she liked to do as a hobby. Brook had his workshop out back, where he made his own carved wood furniture. That was the best decision Brook had made in the right step toward recovery. His PTSS had been getting the better of him when he first returned home from the service. They all suffered from the same condition and had to find their own means of coping with it. Brook had his furniture carving, Conway had his professional occupation as chief of police, Lincoln had the martial arts training and cooking, as well as surveillance operations, and Calder did the same. He worked on updating and improving surveillance and monitoring equipment as well as creating undetectable bombs and other means of weaponry. He helped to train police officers in self-defense and hand-to-hand combat. He didn’t like cooking and he wasn’t a talker. He tended to keep his emotions bottled up and presented his character by action not words.

  Conway teased him about the display of intense tattoos on both his arms and his back. He liked his tattoos and they all had meaning. From the American flag to the names of his buddies lost in combat, they were part of his life and the person he was.

  He locked up the surveillance room and headed down the hall to check on J.J.

  J.J. had said that she wanted to lie down in her bedroom over an hour ago. Being Special Forces for so many years, it was easy for him to move around the house without being detected. Well, at least from J.J., not the others. They were just as highly trained. Calder felt compelled to check on her. She wasn’t coming out of her shell or really speaking to any of them. It had been nearly three weeks since she’d arrived, and nothing had changed. If anything, she seemed more distant.

  As he approached the doorway, he noticed it was ajar. A quick glance inside and he could see her on the bed, arms holding on to the backboard behind her, as she lifted her thighs all the way up in the air and slowly lowered them, using her abdominal muscles. She only wore a tank top and a pair of baggy, thin sweats. Immediately he noticed the bruises around her neck, her chest, and arms. His chest tightened. Had someone tried to strangle her?

  His gaze stretched along the rest of her perfect body. The woman was muscular, as if she worked out on a regular basis. He was impressed. She continued to do the hard abdominal workout, and he felt a bit embarrassed for spying on her. Then he got an idea. Conway wasn’t sure why he was even thinking this much about J.J. and her possible situation, but he was. Just as they all had suffered some hard, difficult experiences in their past, it seemed that J.J. had too. What if there was a way to help her open up? This exercise thing was the first indication of who she may be and what type of personality she had. They all enjoyed a good workout. They had the gym.

  He walked away, being sure to not make any noise. Then he walked back toward her room, calling her name.

  She quickly made it to the doorway.

  “Yeah?” she answered, appearing flushed and a bit out of breath.

  “What are you doing?” he asked her.

  “Nothing.”

  “You seem winded. Are you exercising?” he asked, and she looked him over and opened the door all the way. She walked around the room and began to look behind the shades, above and behind the mirror.

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “Looking for cameras. Are you spying on me again?” she asked, sounding annoyed. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Honey, if I wanted to spy on you and place cameras in this room, you’d never be able to find them.

  “Of course not. I just put two and two together, ya know?”

  “No, I don’t know,” she said with attitude as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “The outfit. The sweat on your brow. Your flushed complexion. Unless I’m wrong, and I made you blush and perspire.”

  “As if,” she retorted. He laughed again.

  He stared at the bruising and could see the finger marks. Son of a bitch. Someone definitely had their hands around her neck tight enough to cause that kind of bruising.

  He must have been staring too long because she reached up and placed her hand over her neck.

  “Do those hurt?” he asked, tilting his head toward her, his eyes still on her neck. He also absorbed the fullness of her breasts and the deep cleavage between them. He was human, and he was a man. J.J. had a body like some sex symbol.

  “I’m fine.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “I am,” she stated with her teeth clenched, and she took a step toward him. He raised one eyebrow at her. The woman was on the brink. She was ready to explode with anger. Where was all the aggression coming from?

  “Listen, if you want to work out, you could have asked if we had a gym.”

  She uncrossed her arms.

  “You have a gym?” she asked, stepping toward him.

>   Ahhh, so she likes to work out? Now I’m making some progress.

  “Sure we have a gym. Lincoln and I do martial arts training. Brook and Conway are really good, too. We have a combination dojo and regular gym out back in the huge barn.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “I didn’t know that you were into martial arts. I mean, you guys are all in great physical condition.”

  “You think so, huh?” he asked as he gave her a flirty look. He hadn’t even thought before he did it. It just happened, and now he felt like an idiot. This wasn’t him. Calder Murphy did not flirt.

  “Come on, Calder. Tell me what else you have hidden on this ranch. I need something more to do than just sit around here and think. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “Thinking is good.”

  “Not from where my mind wanders to. I need a gym. I love working out and doing physical activities. Could I use the gym? I mean, if you and the team didn’t mind, of course.”

  “You can use it, but one of us has to be with you.”

  She shook her head. “That’s lame.”

  “Those are the rules. The gym and dojo are out back. We’re here to protect you, even though we have no idea from who or what,” he said and then uncrossed his arms. She just stared at him.

  “Come on. I’ll show it to you now. But bring a sweatshirt. It’s getting chilly out there.”

  They headed outside together. Calder opened the door and there was Lincoln, working out on the bags. A quick glance at J.J. and she was trying her hardest not to stare at Lincoln but instead take in the dojo and the gym.

  Lincoln grabbed the black bag he was kicking and turned to look at them.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Is everything all right?” he asked filled with concern.

  Calder nodded.

  “Everything is good. I was talking to J.J. and told her about the gym. She likes to work out, so I thought we could show her the equipment and what we have.”

  “Sounds good, but you can’t come out here alone. One of us has to be with you,” Lincoln stated very seriously.

  “All of you are right inside. Don’t you have this place all wired up with cameras and other things anyway?” she asked with an attitude.

  “Those are the rules. You don’t like it? Tough,” Calder stated, with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  She stared up at him. Now, being this close to her, he absorbed the scent of her perfume, the deep jade color of her eyes, and the thick eyelashes that blinked as she rolled her eyes at him. He had to hide his chuckle. It seemed J.J. wasn’t used to being ordered around.

  “He’s right. So, what do you like to do? We have ellipticals, treadmills, free weights, mats for yoga, and we can get videos if you like aerobics or something like that?” Lincoln asked.

  She walked deeper into the room and ran her hand along the boxing bags, the sets of gloves, and other martial arts equipment. Then she looked at the dojo, where the large padded floor sat, with other training devices for martial arts.

  “I can use what you have here.”

  “Do you have any training in martial arts?” Lincoln asked. She looked up toward him.

  “Some,” she said and then walked around the room. She looked at the pictures on the wall. Some were of the team with the training academy. Some were from when they were in the service.

  “All four of you were in the military?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Calder said as he walked deeper into the room.

  She leaned forward and squinted her eyes at one picture in the top right corner. They were in uniform with the entire team, but she wouldn’t know what the symbol stood for. It was an elite group of soldiers. Special Forces and then some.

  “Special Forces, huh? Impressive.”

  Calder looked at Lincoln.

  “What do you know about it?” Lincoln asked on the defensive. He was always on guard when it came to their pasts and their service history.

  She locked gazes with him. “Enough,” she said, and Calder wondered if she knew someone in that troop. Half of them were dead. Killed in action or lost somewhere.

  “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your workout, Lincoln. If you don’t mind, I’ll just mess around a little, and check the place out.”

  “Fine with me. Calder, you want to spar?” Lincoln asked.

  “Sure,” Calder stated as he pulled his hooded sweatshirt up and over his head. He caught J.J. staring, and shockingly, he liked it.

  * * * *

  J.J. couldn’t believe how attracted she was to these men. She realized pretty quickly that there was something about each of them that pulled at her feminine strings. Calder’s tough attitude, the tattoos on his arms, the intensity in his dark gray eyes, and the way he seemed to notice every little thing on her. Then, of course, Lincoln. Blond hair, crew cut, green eyes, six feet three, the man was very attractive. Add in the fact that he could cook and also trained martial arts, and she was instantly attracted. Brook was the most unique one of the four. He was quiet, brooding, and seemed empathetic and caring. If that was even right to describe a retired Special Forces guy as caring and quiet. His deep brown eyes were soothing. Whenever she caught him watching her, it was like he could see into her soul. But it wasn’t unnerving, it seemed like he got it. He understood her need to be on the defensive. But then there was Conway. The man didn’t say much. He appeared to be in charge all of the time, or perhaps his team just let him be. He took his position as chief of police very seriously. The sight of him in uniform reminded her so much of Anthony, but the fact that they were all trained, and trained others in martial arts and were Special Forces, really was the kicker.

  That was Anthony. Her trainer, her instructor in the special investigative unit, and he was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He spent years in the military prior to entering the police department, and she knew he was part of a Special Forces team. She couldn’t help but wonder if the men had known Anthony.

  She shook her head. That would be so crazy.

  She needed to clear her mind. If she could just get past the images that flooded her brain and were triggered by the stupidest things, then maybe she could let her guard down a tad. But then again, what if these men weren’t as good as Frank thought, or what if they could be paid off? Then they would know more about her and ways to destroy her or ultimately kill her. She couldn’t do that.

  Instantly she felt her body tense.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” Lincoln placed his hand on her shoulder and she twisted to the right and slammed his hand down. She was in a ready stance, prepared to fight.

  “Whoa. It’s okay, J.J.,” he said.

  “You zoned out, again,” Calder added and he looked concerned.

  “I’m fine. I just need to work out. Can I jump in with you guys? Sparring, I mean?”

  “I don’t know if you should. You could get hurt,” Lincoln said and she gave him a jab in his stomach. Not too hard, but not too light either.

  He shook his head, as Calder gave her a stern expression.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, darling,” he said and she walked to the left and took a shot at him. Calder dodged it.

  “I think I’ll be the one to decide that.” And so it began.

  Calder and Lincoln took turns sparring with J.J. They moved in a circular rotation and she countered most of what they threw at her. They were giving her a nice workout, but they were playing with her and taking it easy. She didn’t want easy. She wanted to rid her mind of the memories, the horrific thoughts and fears plaguing her brain. She was lost in her thoughts now, even as they sparred. It was like she was having an out-of-body experience, or her mind was divided into two parts. The one that followed the movements of her body as she sparred with Lincoln and Calder, and the part that recalled the events that led to her being here, on the run, living with danger breathing down her back.

  Calder nearly swept her feet out from un
der her but she recovered and jabbed him in the side. It must have been kind of hard because he paused to look at her a moment, and then there she was again. Her mind flashed to Dexter. He was choking her. Trying to take the life from her. She remembered thinking that she was going to die, and that Dooley was going to get away with murder, killing Tara, Marlee, and Denise.

  She realized that she was getting too rough. She was trying to take out her anger and aggression on Calder and Lincoln. She yanked off her sweatshirt and turned toward the long black bag. She started hitting it, punching it, kicking it. She was running on all the anger and energy she had kept up in her. The flashbacks, the pain, the fear, as she kicked that bag, lifted her thigh higher, and imagined that it was Dexter, and she was defending herself. She was going to town on it until she couldn’t go any further, and then she fell to the mat onto her knees and slammed her palms on the black padding.

  She was breathing heavy, and she felt the two men behind her. Lincoln and Calder.

  She looked up toward them. Calder was staring at her. Lincoln’s eyes were transfixed on her neck, and probably the bruising on her body. It looked ugly and dark. She took a deep breath and released it.

  “God, I needed that. I needed to just get that out,” she said.

  Lincoln squatted down next to her. He reached out and placed his fingers under her chin. He turned her face gently.

  “Those look terrible. I have some cream that can help take the bruising away quicker.” His eyes darted to her cheekbone and the bruise there, and then to her eyes.

  “Want to tell us how you got these?”

  “You’re already in enough danger, just being around me,” she said and turned her face.

  “Explain,” Calder said in a stern voice. She looked at him and his bulging muscles. At six feet four, the man was huge compared to her and especially now as he stood up straight and she was kneeling on the mat.

  Slowly she started to get up. Lincoln jumped up, and then reached down to assist her. When he touched her elbow and placed a hand on her waist, she turned toward him. Her body was shaking and she felt exhausted. She was, both physically and emotionally.