Healing Hearts 7

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “You’re going to love Mexico, baby. After we have our fun with you, I’ll still be able to get a nice bit of cash for you,” Flounder said, reaching out to touch her hair. She slapped his hand away, and he struck her across the mouth. When he pulled her up by her blouse, it ripped open. She shoved at him hard, and he countered with a forearm to her cheek, and she fell to the ground next to the three guys who were with them. Those three men grabbed at her body until the leader, Gill, yelled at them to stop.

  She screamed and tried shoving their hands away, but their nails scraped against her skin and her blouse was ripped the rest of the way open. Just then, the sound of a vehicle approaching drew their attention. She saw the van, and then men got up. She went to make a run for it, but one guy put out his foot and tripped her. She slammed against the ground, her chin hitting the dirt road. She felt the pain, and it added to her other injuries. They were going to beat her, rape her, who knew what else.

  The van stopped and a heavy boot pressed on her spine, holding her down to the ground in one place.

  “Right on time. You weren’t followed, right?” Flounder asked. She couldn’t see who the driver was, but then she heard the familiar voice, and she was shocked. That shock quickly turned to anger.

  “Of course not. So, make sure my money is transferred as soon as you get the chance. There’ll be another van waiting for us at this address in an hour. Then you should be clear for the drive, and I can get back to the department,” Yandi said.

  “We got it, and you’ll get your money. Let’s move,” Gill said.

  The boot moved off her back, and a hard hand gripped her up by her hair. She cried out and reached back at his hands, only for Flounder to turn her toward the men and the driver.

  “Yandi? How could you do this? What the hell are you thinking?” she yelled at him. He was a cop and good one who had been helpful during the case. Holy shit, he was the rat. He was the one feeding these guys information. He knew that the men wouldn’t be at the house the guys robbed but two houses away on either side and right under the cops’ noses.

  “You should get rid of her. They know you have her, and they got more departments joining in the search. I’d dump her as soon as you can and make sure she can’t talk,” Yandi said, and then walked to the van. He got into the driver’s side as Flounder shoved her into the back with the other men. Gill stayed in front with Yandi, a deputy who was really a traitor.

  She didn’t know what was going to happen, but as Flounder grabbed her, she started to fight him. He gripped her wrists as he sat on her legs and pulled her blouse, forward over her head, using it to tie her hands together in front of her. There she now sat with only a bra on, fully exposed to the men and to him.

  “Holy shit, ain’t never seen a cop this hot. How about you guys?” Flounder asked as he lay his gun on his leg and then reached over and stroked her breast. She tried to put her hands and arms in the way, but he gripped them by her wrist and then leaned closer. “I can’t wait.”

  “Oh fuck!” Yandi yelled, and the sound of the windshield breaking alerted her to the fact that someone was shooting at the van. It swerved side to side, and then Flounder stood up and looked.

  “Cops, a fucking barricade of cops,” he said, and she knew she had to make a move now. As the side doors opened, the three men got out and started running toward the woods. She dove for the gun on the floor and turned and shot, but Flounder jumped on top of her. As the van sped up, she pulled the trigger, hoping to hit him but somehow hit Yandi. The van crashed, and her body slammed into the side of the van, and Flounder tackled her. She could hear more gunfire, yelling, and doors slamming. Flounder grabbed her by her throat, and she slammed her hands up against his chin and throat, trying to stop him from choking her.

  She thought of her men and never seeing them again. Of how she would give her life for them and how much she loved them. Suddenly, Flounder was being pulled off of her, and men were yelling. She felt the hands on her thighs and blinked her eyes open to see Kernan, Kinchley, and Conan, as well as Paul and Sam and the others.

  “Oh God, baby, holy shit, Brook.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as Kinchley carefully lifted her up into his arms.

  “Get her hands untied. Cut this shit off,” Conan ordered, and Paul handed over a pocketknife, and they undid the bindings. She was sore and in a lot of pain all over, but she wrapped her arms around Kinchley’s neck and hugged him tight.

  “It’s over, Brook. It’s over.”

  Epilogue

  Brook sat on the couch right next to Conan and Kinchley at the barbecue at Kai, Selasi, Zayn, and Thermo’s house. She had her head on Conan’s shoulder, her hand on Kinchley’s thigh as he kept a hand on her knee, and Kernan was behind her on a stool, keeping close. She listened as the men carried on with their friends and told different stories from the police departments and compared action like a bunch of kids vying for bragging rights. It was all so normal and fun, and also surreal. Only a week before, she was held hostage at gunpoint, taken on a boat, dragged through the woods, assaulted, threatened to be taken to Mexico with a bunch of professional thieves, and nearly died by the hands of one of those thieves. Yet here, around all these soldiers, it was all thought of as a war story.

  She swallowed softly, her throat extremely sore and bruised from the attack, and her jaw, cheek, lip, and chin discolored and showing signs of the incident. Her men kept her close at all times, and she knew it would take a while for all of them to get back to a normal routine. Her house was being fixed. Frankie, one of Casey’s boyfriends, was doing the work for her, but she really didn’t want to go back there. Not only because of the bad memory there, but because she was so used to being with her men, to living with them and to sleeping with them every night, that she didn’t want to leave. They hadn’t asked her to move in, though, so in another week she would return to being alone in her house and waiting to see where this relationship went.

  “So, how is the house coming along?” Emma asked and smirked.

  “It’s going well. Frankie said another week or so and he should have it livable again.”

  “So, you aren’t going to put it up for sale like you mentioned,” Emma said, letting their conversation earlier be revealed to the men. She hadn’t told the guys about the possibility of selling the house and looking for a new place.

  “What do you mean, sell it? You didn’t mention wanting to sell the house. We thought you loved it,” Conan said to her. She gave Emma a look, and Emma smiled knowingly.

  “I was thinking about it, then I’ll look for a new place to live,” she said to them.

  “No need to. Move in with us. It’s where we want you to be, and it’s where you belong,” Kernan said to her.

  “What?” she asked. Emma chuckled.

  “I like that idea. Get rid of the house, make some money, and then move in with us. We would love that, Brook. It’s where you belong,” Conan said.

  She looked at them. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” she asked.

  “You’re moving in, and that’s an order. Enough bullshit. Of course we want you there, so let’s drop it. It’s a done deal,” Kinchley said, and then pulled her close and kissed her.

  She heard the chuckles and then the whistles, and she felt her heart soar with love for her men. She was going to have to get used to Kinchley’s demands, hell, to all three of their demands and their orders. She didn’t mind one bit. In fact, it was going to be fun ruffling their feathers and keeping them on their toes. All things considered, it was the only place she wanted to be. Safe in their arms, every day and every night for the rest of their lives.

  THE END

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