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

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “I think I overdid it,” she said, feeling her head spin. She prayed that she wouldn’t faint.

  “Avoiding the order is not going to let it disappear,” Calder stated.

  “Order?” she asked as Lincoln released her. He walked to the side and grabbed her a bottle of water.

  “Here, drink this.” She took it from him with shaking hands and opened up the cap. She drank it, as her eyes looked at Calder over the edge of the bottle.

  His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he looked like a muscle man.

  “First of all, I don’t take orders from you, Calder. Secondly, I don’t need to share shit with you, unless I want to.”

  His eyebrow lifted in surprise and challenge. She felt her gut clench.

  “You don’t think you have to take orders from me?” he asked, stepping toward her.

  She stepped toward him. “No. I don’t. You think I’m scared of you?” she asked, and then looked over his muscles, and then back up into his eyes. Those tattoos were definitely intimidating.

  “You should watch your attitude around here. We don’t tolerate it.”

  “Oh, really? What are you going to do about it?” she asked and stepped closer. Now they were toe to toe and she was staring up into his eyes and slightly over his huge chest.

  “There’s ways of dealing with recalcitrant behavior,” Lincoln added, and when she looked toward him, surprised that he was adding to this, Calder made his move.

  She froze the second his palm cupped her cheek and his other hand gripped her hip. He was staring down into her eyes, her chest was moving up and down slowly, and she realized that her breasts looked huge in the tank top. He held her gaze.

  “When are you going to stop fighting us and let us help you?”

  She thought about that a moment. They seemed like good men, trustworthy men, but how could she be sure? She couldn’t.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, hearing the defeat in her tone. Then she felt the hand on her shoulder from behind. It was Lincoln.

  “You can. The more we know, the better we can protect you.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Not now. Not after the first protection operation nearly killed me. I’m sorry,” she said and then tried to pull away. Neither man allowed it. Calder stared at her.

  “You were in protective custody and the team in charge failed you?” he asked. She swallowed hard. The stupid feds thought that two agents and a peephole in the hotel were enough to secure her until evidence was gathered and a case made.

  “They were stupid. They underestimated the criminal.”

  “What happened to the ones who were supposed to protect you?” Calder asked.

  “They died,” she whispered, remembering the two agents who’d totally backcrossed the FBI. They were working for Dooley. The congressman had people everywhere. Could he even somehow get to these men?

  “How did you survive? How did you get out of there?” Lincoln asked.

  “The criminals underestimated the victim,” she said.

  “Did the ones protecting you help to get you out alive before they were killed?” Calder asked. She chuckled softly.

  “They were paid off by the criminal. I was as good as dead.” She lowered her eyes, recalling the feelings of defeat and distrust. Could she ever trust another person fully again? Was she even capable of it after all of this?

  Calder ran his thumb back and forth over her skin as he held her face.

  “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. The more we know, the better we can protect you.”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s only a matter of time. It’s not if, it’s when they come. I will be ready. I’m not going to die without a fight. I have nothing else to live for, but to see justice served.”

  Chapter 4

  “What the hell do you mean you have no idea where the hell she went? She’s a fucking woman. How could she escape your grasp and simply disappear? I’ve got dead bodies to hide, and another two fucking federal agents to add to the list of murders we’re connected to. I want that bitch dead,” Congressman Dooley yelled into the phone.

  He was at his wit’s end. Somehow that undercover investigator had gotten away and right after he admitted to murdering other women. He should have grabbed that whore by her neck, did her like he did Tara, and then slit her fucking throat. One stinking bitch was not going to destroy his life, his family, and everything he’d worked so damn hard for.

  “You know we’re trying, sir. There’s a lot to cover up. Too many loose ends, and too many witnesses at the casino, never mind the hotel where we were supposed to snag her. The woman is tough and she’s resourceful,” his head of security stated.

  “Well, tell me something I don’t know. She’s smarter than you? Smarter than the team of government agents that are to protect my name, cover my ass, and let me get away with anything I want?”

  “This situation has gotten out of control. Perhaps leaving her alone, and letting her think that you’ve given up will help us to catch her.”

  “In the interim, I’ve got spies trying to infiltrate my company, the secret agents investigating my activities both on paper and in Nevada for the last ten years, and my reelection is in jeopardy. My wife isn’t talking to me. Reporters are trying to do their own investigations into my connection to the Vegas murders, while you and the rest of my team are trying to cut loose strings? I’ve got the local Nevada State Police applying pressure and asking questions and I don’t like the direction they’re going in. They’re going back in their records. They’re looking at the fuck up drug operation in the warehouse from two years ago. What the fuck? You need to handle this. Some fucking bitch is not taking me down. Make it go away. Find her, eliminate the problem and anyone else who may be helping her, and let’s wrap this up.”

  He hung up the phone and stared out the window. “How the fuck did this get so bad, so quickly?”

  His phone rang again. This time from his private disposable cell phone. It was how he handled all his illegal business connections. Glancing at the number, he knew that it was Martin McCue.

  “Got any good news for me?”

  “No. She’s gone under the radar. I’ve got people on the inside of the Nevada State Police. We’ve been trailing her commander, Frank Reynolds, and we’ve tapped his office lines as well as his home lines. All we came up with thus far is a call to an unsolicited number out in Texas. My resources can’t penetrate this number, however, yours may be able to.”

  The congressman thought about it a moment. He was willing to do anything to wipe this shit from his life.

  “Give me the number and I’ll get the info to you ASAP.”

  “Great. Hopefully this will lead to finding her. I’d like to personally take care of this for you, Congressman. I don’t want our business to be over, and it would bring me great pleasure to torture that bitch.”

  “She’s all yours. Just be sure to get rid of her. She’s nothing but a worthless cop, and I’m a fucking congressman. Does she really think she can take me down? Not happening.”

  He disconnected the call and quickly looked up the number of someone he believed he could trust. Delaney something. He picked up the phone again and dialed her number.

  Midconversation, as he heard her typing away on the government computer, she paused.

  “Sir, were you ever able to find out anything with my sister’s case? You said that you’d check into it?”

  Dooley cringed. He hated when people asked him for favors. He couldn’t even remember Delaney’s last name, never mind any conversation about her sister. What the fuck was she talking about?

  “I’m sorry, but there was nothing I could do.”

  “How can that be? I thought you were personal friends with the CEO of that company.”

  “Listen, Delaney, I’m on a tight schedule today. Do me a favor, get me the info I need right now, and then send the info about your sister to my secretary. I�
�ll look over the problem again and see what I can do, okay?” he stated with an attitude and he got no response. Instead he heard the tapping of keys and then Delaney’s monotone voice.

  “That number is a secure line coming from the Nevada State Police to a private secure line in Houston, Texas. Give me a moment and I will have a name and address.”

  Dooley smiled. Whoever was helping her was about to go down, big time.

  * * * *

  It had been two days since the incident in the gym with Calder, Lincoln, and J.J. Lincoln remained toward the back of the room as J.J. ran on the elliptical and then started hitting the punching bag. He saw her pause a moment and lay her forehead against the bag. He was filled with concern for her. Why couldn’t she just trust them?

  She seemed like she was getting a bit more comfortable with them. That was a plus. She’d actually eaten dinner with them last night and breakfast this morning. Her appetite was getting better. Maybe the working out was helping.

  Lincoln was stretching out on the mats after his workout, when he sensed J.J. approaching.

  She sat down on the mat across from him and began stretching.

  “What’s up with all the tattoos? You like pain or something?” she asked, in that abrupt tone they were getting used to but to him didn’t seem like J.J.’s style. She was just on edge and trying to act tough. If she would just give a little, and let them know she was willing to accept their sincerity, then maybe they could get to know her better.

  “I like them. They all have meaning,” he said.

  She looked at his forearms as she stretched her hand down to her toes on one side. The move gave him a great view of her breasts in the tank top she wore.

  “I get the American flag and the wicked Special Forces symbol, but what’s with the names and the dark images? You and Calder both have them.”

  He looked down at his left arm first.

  “These are some of my buddies who died in combat.” He looked at his other arm.

  “Same here. I guess it’s my way of honoring them and never forgetting their sacrifices.”

  “That’s cool. What were some of the names?” she asked and tried to look. He wondered why she was asking. He had this funny feeling in his gut. It was like she thought she might know them. Had she known one of his team members? But how? What was the likelihood?

  “You won’t know any of them.”

  She started to say something and then stopped. She stretched out her other leg while tucking the first leg she’d stretched up and against her belly.

  “Did they all die in combat or did any of them make it back to civilian life?” she asked.

  “These guys died in battle alongside us.”

  “You mean you were in combat with them when they died?”

  “Yeah. We were all involved in some very heavy shit.”

  She stared at him, and he felt like they were making some sort of a connection. But he was still on guard. J.J. was so unpredictable.

  “Was it hard for you? For Calder, Brook, and Conway to adapt back to being civilians, after experiencing the things you experienced?” she asked.

  He thought about her question. Perhaps she was reaching out for information and this could be a way for him to help her.

  “Well, you probably heard about post-traumatic stress syndrome? We all suffered from it when we returned.”

  “How did you gain control of it?”

  “Well, we still suffer from it really. Our daily activities help us. We’ve trained our minds to not give so much power to the thoughts, the memories of the bad times.”

  “How do you do that? I mean, doesn’t it feel like your mind has more control than you do?”

  He took a deep breath and released a soft sigh. This was making progress.

  “J.J., PTSS can be very serious if it isn’t treated. Or at minimum, not shared with people who care. As I mentioned earlier, we all suffered from it. We don’t sleep well at night. We always keep an eye on what’s going on around us, and having this place fully wired with surveillance helps us to ensure our minds that the enemy isn’t going to infiltrate the perimeter of our property and home.”

  She looked around the room and then leaned back on the palms of her hands.

  “Then you’re lucky that you have one another.”

  “Hey, I’m here for you, and you’re not alone in this.”

  She shot him a look.

  “We were talking about you. Not me,” she snapped.

  “Were we now?”

  “Yeah, we were. I don’t have that PTSS, and I’m all alone in this world. I don’t have my military buddies, or the capabilities to wire anything to ensure my safety. I don’t even have a home anymore because the fucker blew it up.” She stood up and so did Lincoln.

  “The person who you’re hiding from blew up your fucking home?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was trying to calm herself down.

  “Listen, Lincoln, I don’t know why you guys are doing this. I don’t know why Sandman recommended the four of you, and I don’t know what the outcome of all this will be. I’ve pretty much accepted my fate. I’m going to die. They are going to find me and erase everything that happened and no one is going to give a fuck. So please, don’t patronize me and tell me that you’re here for me, when you don’t even know me.”

  “You don’t know us or our capabilities. If you just let us in on this, we can better understand the situation. You’re not alone anymore. If you just start showing us some trust, and some sort of commitment to this situation and let us in, then we can and will protect you fully, with our lives. You don’t ever have to be alone again, J.J. Show us that you trust us.”

  She started to walk backward. He could see the tears in her eyes, the struggle in her gaze as she shook her head.

  “I don’t know how to. I’m sorry,” she whispered and then headed out of the room.

  He grabbed his sweatshirt and followed her, but not before glancing at the camera, knowing that someone from his team was watching and listening.

  * * * *

  Calder and Brook were in the surveillance room.

  “I’d call that progress, but damn, is she fucking scared. I want to know who hurt her. I want to know who put that fear in her eyes and what happened that she’s suffering from PTSS. Lincoln is right. We can help her,” Brook stated.

  The soft beeping sound indicated that someone was approaching the roadway leading up to the property by motor vehicle. A quick glance toward the cameras by the front gate and they spotted the small red sports car.

  “Pauline. Damn, why can’t that woman leave us alone?”

  “Because she’s obsessed with winning Conway and your attention,” Brook stated.

  “She’s a pain in the ass, and we need to get her out of here before she sees J.J.,” Calder said.

  “I’m on it. Be careful about insulting her again, or she’ll complain to Conway, and start harassing him again too. It’s my fault anyway. I was in a bad state that night. Between the Jack Daniels and the flashbacks, I was on the way to destruction.”

  “Yeah, that little lady was on her way to landing an orgy none of us were interested in.”

  * * * *

  J.J. could hear what Brook and Calder were saying as she stood by the door. Calder walked out and gave her a look. “Stay here, and don’t move. Don’t go by any windows or anything.”

  He was so damn forceful, and she gave him a dirty look. Of course Calder pointed at her, daring her to challenge him. Instead she turned away and saw the surveillance room. There were about eight different small flat screens, a whole lot of special equipment, and Brook. He was staring at one screen and moving a flat mouse pad around on his desk as the picture enlarged.

  J.J. saw the blonde, and instantly she had an odd feeling in her gut. Then she saw Calder walking outside, and Lincoln making his way over from the barn. Both men looked annoyed, but Calder appeared pissed off. “Fuck, Calder, just let Lincoln get rid of
her,” Brook whispered.

  “Who’s the blonde? Old girlfriend of Calder’s?” J.J. asked as she walked further into the room. Brook never let his eyes off the screen. She hadn’t snuck up on him. The man knew she was there the whole time.

  “No. She’s just interested and we’re not.”

  J.J. wondered what Brook meant by “we’re” and whether the blonde was after all four of them.

  “Who is she?” J.J. asked.

  “A local girl, set on landing a few men of her own.” Brook turned toward J.J. as Calder spoke to the woman and Lincoln kept his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  J.J. walked closer and stared at Calder and Lincoln. They were really annoyed at this woman, and she seemed oblivious as she headed toward the house.

  “What do you mean, land a few men?” she asked as she stood by the desk and looked at the other cameras.

  “A ménage.”

  J.J. took her eyes off the screen and stared at Brook. He was facing her, still sitting in the chair, and looking awfully serious. For some odd reason, her pussy seemed to react to the word ménage.

  She swallowed hard.

  “Are you serious? She wants Calder and Lincoln?” she asked, her voice actually cracking as she turned to look at the screen and saw the blonde heading toward the house and the back kitchen door. Both Calder and Lincoln were on her heels trying to stop her. The blonde wrapped herself around Calder and started kissing his neck and climbing his body.

  “And me and Conway, too. It’s a common type of relationship around these parts. It takes a special connection though, for it to work out,” Brook whispered.

  For some strange reason, J.J. felt her nipples harden and her reply catch in her throat.

  She had heard about such relationships before, and had seen some crazy shit in Vegas. But the way Brook spoke of this type of relationship, he seemed interested.

  “So she wants the four of you?” J.J. asked, and when she turned toward him, he was staring at her neck.