In the Line of Fire [Love on the Rocks 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “What’s that expression for? You seem pissed off.”

  “What the fuck kind of men hit a woman as beautiful as her? What was she involved in with Corporal? What are the injuries she’s hiding? I think it’s fucked up that he sends her here, dumps her on us, and doesn’t give details,” Grady replied.

  Drover clenched his teeth, but he got his answer about whether Grady found Berlin attractive and interesting. “I know what you mean. He’ll call when it’s safe and we can ask more details.”

  “Unless he gets killed over this shit.”

  Drover looked at Grady. “Let’s not think those kinds of thoughts. He’s well trained and he sounds like he’s on the hunt. In our family, when the Cole men are pissed off and on the hunt, our prey never know what hit them. He’ll call. I’m positive he will.”

  Chapter Three

  “Cherokee is missing. Fucking disappeared yesterday,” Scuba told Corporal.

  Corporal was lying on the couch in a secure location the government had. Doctors had removed the bullet from his shoulder and he was now recovering. It had been four days. He was in a lot of pain, but his concern was over keeping Berlin safe. He hoped his cousins realized how important she was.

  “Any leads whatsoever?” he asked Scuba.

  “Just a few we have men looking into. After they found the location that Berlin gave you in the woods, it was obvious they left in a hurry. There was a lot of blood, too.”

  “Detective Brothers and Vaile’s?”

  “They left the bodies, Corporal. While you were under for the surgery and recovery, my team and other federal agents linked fingerprints off Brothers and Vaile to the crime scene in Kane’s apartment.”

  “What?” he asked, sitting up and then cringing.

  Scuba looked pissed off, and as Corporal processed the new information, he realized what was going on.

  “Brothers was working for Forte, and Vaile, too?”

  “It looks that way. Right now, I’ve got men I trust looking into phone logs, work schedules, anything that can connect them to being at the scene or having a connection to Forte. I can tell you this much, phone calls were made and money was paid.”

  “You trusted Cherokee and look who he winds up working for—Forte. Are you certain you can trust these men?”

  “Two are family, and they aren’t federal agents.” He gave him a wink and Corporal knew exactly who he meant. Two cousins who were mercenaries, retired navy seals, and who did secret jobs for the government. They were lethal. Just as lethal as Corporal’s own cousins. It made him think about their bond and how close they always were—and still were. He never should have left them and moved on to deal with his loss. Mel had been a beautiful woman they had shared. She had issues like they did, but her lies and her inability to remain faithful had destroyed them. Especially when it was Corporal and his partner who found her overdosed on drugs and in bed with multiple men all strung out and used up. A week later, she’d been raped and murdered. Not something he could get over as a man, as a soldier, or as a detective. It hit him hard and he couldn’t stand to be in North Carolina anymore. He got a transfer from the local police department to New York and a friend he knew in the NYPD that Scuba had a connection to. Now here he was, in the middle of lies, a fucked up investigation, and poor Berlin was in danger of being killed, too. Hell, she was beaten, nearly raped, and then had to run for her life. He wanted to be there for her. To comfort her, to protect her with his life.

  “Forte will have men looking for me still, as well as for Berlin. No one but you and I are to know where she is,” Corporal said to him.

  Scuba smirked. “When did you fall in love with her?”

  Corporal kept a straight face.

  “Come on, Corporal, she’s gorgeous, sweet as can be, and truly a good person. She came from a shitty life, got out, and made her own success by getting through college. Never mind Berlin having to testify about her best friend’s abuse and murder by her friend’s own parents.”

  Corporal didn’t say a word. He knew all about her, had investigated her thoroughly when she started to help Vaile find work and get her off the streets. As a social worker, she helped a lot of troubled youth. She had a knack for it and had a big heart.

  “I never should have gotten her involved with this shit.”

  “You thought Vaile was a victim, as we all did. She was playing multiple roles because she had been a street pirate for years—since she was ten years old. You, nor Berlin, knew that.”

  “No, we didn’t, and she was an informant for me, leading me to find out about Kane’s death. Now, to know that she was there when Kane was murdered? Jesus, this is a fucking mess. How many people are connected to Forte, cops included?” Corporal shook his head.

  “Cherokee was, too. You know what this is leading to, right? What we feared, but didn’t want to face?” Scuba asked him.

  “Yeah, big money, big inside job, and corrupt agents and other law enforcement. What the fuck are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to rest up. I’m going to ensure we get prints from the crime scene at the house in the woods and we get confirmation on some other evidence against Forte. He’ll more than likely keep a low profile right now. Terrance was a main killer for him. We’ve been running his prints, his DNA, and making connections. Forte will want revenge.”

  “Maybe that will be a way to smoke him out. Knowing that I killed Terrance will make him screw up and come after me for it. We could use that to get him to make a move.”

  Scuba licked his lower lip. He turned away and then looked back at him.

  “You forgot. Cherokee knows it was Berlin that killed Terrance to save you. He also knows it was her that saved you that night someone took a shot at you down by the pier. She shoved you out of the way while you were shooting at his thugs.”

  “Fuck,” Corporal said and closed his eyes, wishing there was more for him to do. He might need to call his cousins and explain things better. Eventually Forte will do his own research. When he finds out about Corporal’s cousins, he’ll send men that way or go himself.

  “I think we may need to change our plans on how we should handle this situation.”

  “What do you mean, Corporal?”

  “I want you to find out for certain where Forte is hiding. Find out where his connections like the Columbian, Cougan, and Roche are. By then I should be healed up. I’m going to ask you to let me handle smoking him out my way.”

  Scuba squinted at him.

  “Old school?”

  “You shouldn’t know any details because of your position. I’ll take all the heat and the blame if it ever comes up, but I don’t intend on leaving any mess.”

  “Our bond, our friendship, comes way before this job, Corporal. You have my full assistance. I’ll get you what you need.”

  Corporal nodded.

  “They’re going down either way. That I guarantee.”

  * * * *

  “What do you want me to do?” Cougan asked Dominic Forte.

  “I want you to find out where he and the woman are hiding.”

  “I thought Mozely, Yanni, and Banks were looking for the woman because they want her for themselves,” Cougan said.

  “You heard what Cherokee said. It was Berlin that killed Terrance. She is going to suffer greatly for that. He was my best soldier. My number one enforcer and friend. Mozely, Yanni, and Banks can do as they wish, but when they are done having their fun, she will be tortured accordingly.”

  “What about Corporal?”

  “He’s injured. He has to be holed up somewhere the feds worked out for his protection. Cherokee must know the locations. I want you and the others to work with him to find out where Corporal is and then move in and take him out.”

  “What if there are a bunch of feds there, too?”

  “Take. Them. Out,” he said in a serious, angry tone with his eyes narrowed. Cougan nodded and headed out of the room.

  Forte lifted a picture of Berlin. She was a gorgeou
s young woman. A social worker trying to help teens get off the streets, to save abused children, and rid the world of violence. He smirked. She was going to see first-hand the capabilities of a man who grew up on the streets and then created his own empire. He stroked the picture with his finger. She was a mighty fine piece of ass. Maybe he would take his time after all. Either way, she was going to die. Having Corporal watch as he did it could really bring him justice and the revenge he sought. He started to hatch a plan, but first they needed to find them. Cherokee was going to help with that, too.

  Chapter Four

  Berlin was so tired. She tossed and turned, waking up each time she rolled to her side or bent her knee. The nightmares were graphic. Starting with thoughts of nearly being raped, then running for her life, shooting Terrance to save Corporal, and even testifying as a child to bring justice to her friend Olivia after her parents abused her and then killed her.

  Instead of running from the violence, the depressing, revolting aspects of child abuse and neglect, she fought to obtain a degree and understanding and to gain the tools to help her do her part to save lives and stop the violence. She had saved many young lives, but she had also lost many. To the gang bangers, the violent city streets, the cold, brutal winters, and the psychological warfare of a weak-minded, low self-esteem child. They were just children. Children who got a shitty hand in life and had no one to trust or to truly depend upon. Vaile had been no different than the many others who came through the shelter doors looking strung out, malnourished, scared, and broken. Berlin knew Corporal already. He had a few cases of teens involved in gang crimes, and even murder, and she had worked with some and was able to help him find them. When he saw Vaile as an informant to catch a big fish like Dominic Forte, Berlin had no qualms helping to persuade Vaile to help. Vaile was playing every angle, and Berlin and Corporal fell for them. It was survival of the fittest. A different mentality on the streets than in regular civilization. The worse off a person was, the more dangerous and untrusting, the deeper they were involved and trying not to get killed.

  What Berlin still didn’t understand was Vaile’s protectiveness of her brother, a man Berlin had never met nor knew if he actually existed. But Vaile referred to him often. So when Vaile got Berlin to give her a ride to get him out of a location where people were doing drugs and drinking, she preyed on Berlin’s social worker mentality and desire to help. She fell for her lies as she drove them to what was probably going to be the worst night of Berlin’s life. It was crazy how Berlin went from victim to fighter when her life depended on it. How she used her training in self-defense and boxing to maneuver from Banks’s grasp before he was able to rape her.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Those three men haunted her nightmares. Had her waking up in a cold sweat screaming for help. She had to be strong. She was the kind of person that faced the reality of things and didn’t sugar coat it. Her own life gave her a toughness she needed as a social worker helping kids and teens who were scared and pissed off at the world.

  Vaile was no different and their paths crossed for a deeper purpose, yet Berlin knew that because of her, her life had changed forever.

  As she moved off the side of the bed she cringed in major pain. The burning on her ribs and her knee was worse. Much worse than the last three days. She really needed to get some supplies. Some peroxide to decrease the risk of infection. The cut on her knee was pretty damn deep and she thought she might need stitches, but how could she get them? She couldn’t risk going to a medical center. Shit.

  She struggled to get to the bathroom, cursing along the way and wiping the tears that fell. Even her eye felt worse and as she looked into the mirror, she could see why. The discoloration and swelling were far greater than three days ago. She needed ice, and the damn ice maker didn’t work in the freezer, but she refused to ask for help. Hiding would be best, but it seemed she would need to venture out to get what she needed.

  She would need to call Thelma, but then Thelma said to use the walkie-talkies for an emergency only. At the rate her knee and her side were hurting, she wouldn’t make it down the hill, except very slowly. She finished getting washed up and then dressed in a baggy pair of sweats, a tank top, and a sweater. She put on her sneakers, which was another task that hurt a lot, but she pushed through, despite feeling exhausted. She got to the kitchen, made oatmeal, and opted for water instead of making coffee. She would do that later when she had nothing to do but sit around and think.

  She took the key with her and painstakingly exited the cabin. It was a brisk morning. She felt a bit cold but she knew she would be sweating from the pain as soon as she made the trek down to the main office. She looked ahead to the dirt road. There was no one around, and from here, she could barely make out Grady and Drover’s home through the heavy trees. She shivered and then started to walk. It hurt. A burning, aching pain shot into her skin. She needed stitches. Son of a bitch. This wasn’t good. Tears stung her eyes and she stopped momentarily, trying to decide whether or not to head back to the house and use the damn walkie-talkie anyway, despite feeling she’d come off as a weak city girl to Thelma, or walking to the Cole brother’s house. Shit.

  She heard a noise, the sound like someone running, and she tightened up and turned in time to see a large man jogging through the woods. He wore a knitted hat, sweatshirt, and sweats, but she could tell he was fit. She turned away and tried to pretend she was not affected by him—scared by him or fearful of her inability to protect herself right now.

  “Berlin,” he called out, and a moment later he was right in front of her, catching his breath.

  Grady.

  “Oh, hi, Grady. Out for a run?” she asked, not knowing what else to say and trying to hide the pain she was in.

  He squinted at her.

  “What are you doing up so early? Where are you going?” he asked in a harsh tone.

  She stared up at him. The man was so big. She looked away. “To Thelma’s.”

  “Why? What do you need?”

  “Nothing, just walking to Thelma’s.” She started to move and when he grabbed her arm she stepped too hard and felt the burning pain.

  “Ouch,” she cried out.

  “Shit. You’re in fucking pain. Goddamn it, I should have just followed Corporal’s orders and checked this out when you first got here days ago. Where’s the fucking injury?” he demanded to know and bent down and went to pull her pant leg up. She grabbed onto his shoulders, nearly losing her balance, which caused a pain to flare in her side. She grabbed her side with her other hand and a tear fell.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay,” she said, but he looked up at her and held her hip with one hand and her calf with the other. Their gazes locked. Her mouth opened slightly in shock. Holy shit, she was completely attracted to Grady. Big, blond, Scottish-looking maniac Grady.

  “I’m bringing you up to the house.”

  “I don’t have any supplies. I used what I had. It isn’t enough.”

  “I’m starting to think that you don’t know shit about first aid. I have the feeling when I do see the injuries that it’s going to be bad. If that’s the case, you’re in trouble.”

  She widened her eyes and he lifted her up into his arms and began to carry her.

  “What are you doing? Put me down. I can walk.”

  “I don’t have an hour to watch you try to walk in pain and be a damn stubborn woman.”

  “Stubborn? I’m trying not to wind up in an emergency room or clinic somewhere where they can track my name and find out where I am. We can’t go to a hospital, Grady. We can’t. Please, Grady.”

  “Jesus, I’m not going to bring you to a fucking hospital. My brothers and I know more than basic first aid. I know a shit more. You need to understand what kind of men we are and to know that our cousin sent you here for us to protect you because he trusts us and knows what we are capable of.”

  “Cousin? Corporal is your cousin?” she asked and he squinted his eyes at her as if surprised that she didn�
�t know.

  As he walked her toward the walkway, the front door to their elaborate cabin opened and Drover stood there with a scowl on his face.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  They passed by him, Drover giving her the once over and then closing the door behind them. She caught sight of their home. Warm, inviting, masculine with the large brown couches, a super huge fireplace, an elaborate, etched wood mantle and lots of other modern and yet country décor.

  “She was heading down to Thelma’s but can hardly walk.” He slowly set her down on the kitchen island. It was black marble, and the cabinets a deep cherry wood. The stainless-steel appliances stood out and the kitchen was like something from a magazine. She was sort of shocked.

  “I could have made it. Eventually. I didn’t want to bother you, or risk you taking me to a hospital or something. We can’t do that. They’ll find out,” she rambled on, and Drover reached out and caressed her hair from her cheek.

  “It’s that fucking bad?”

  She nodded. Grady pulled off his sweatshirt and threw it onto the back of the chair.

  His hands were on his hips.

  “You haven’t been icing shit. That cheek looks worse,” Grady reprimanded her.

  “The ice maker in the cabin doesn’t work.”

  Grady widened his eyes. “So you don’t tell us? We could fix it. What the fuck have you been doing in there the last five days?” he demanded.

  “Thinking. Processing. Trying to rest despite the pain,” she said and then felt the hand on her thigh. She looked at Drover.

  “We are here to help you and protect you. It’s what Corporal asked us to do. From here on out, no more stubborn bullshit.”

  “What injury is worse?” Grady asked.

  “My knee.” He reached for her sweats and began to roll them up slowly. The feel of his large hand on her calf made her nipples harden and her belly quiver. These men were sexy.