Here Comes Trouble [Trouble, Tennessee Prequel] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Natalie Acres

  Allister stood and went to the glass.

  “Don’t do it, man,” Harley warned. “Draegan is better suited for this one. Let him do his job.”

  Allister clenched his fists. “Damn Denny. That bastard hurt her in a way she can’t even explain. Look at her. She probably doesn’t weigh a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet and now she has to deal with Draegan? He’s toying with her emotions.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Ryan put his hand up in the air. “What’d he just say?” Ryan had missed some of Draegan’s storytelling once again.

  Markie was too busy smacking his lips and consuming one donut after another. He’d recap after his belly was full, but until then, it was safe to assume Markie wasn’t summarizing at the moment.

  By the time Ryan returned his attention to the enclosed room, Draegan was saying, “Here’s what I think happened. Folks in the community knew you and Denny Marshall had been an item, more or less, while you were in high school. Hell, I even remember overhearing Allister and Ryan saying you’d probably marry the jerk.” Draegan paced behind her chair. “When that rumor mill started churning and spitting out gossip, poor old Denny was probably laid up in some whore’s bed, drinking vodka and smoking weed. Wherever he was, he wasn’t coherent. Want me to tell you why I know?”

  “I don’t see why it matters.”

  “I’m getting there.” Draegan swung his gaze to the glass and back at Ellie once more. “If Denny had been on the receiving end of that gossip-fumed pipeline of information, I personally don’t think he would’ve gone through with the wedding. He did. You did. And just as rumors were true about you, my brother, Ryan Thomas, Derek Swinney, and Bradley Powers, they were also true about the timing when you and Denny no longer seemed to –how should I put this—be living in the throes of fidelity.”

  Draegan turned again and continued walking, occasionally sticking his index finger in the air as if to make a specific point. “I’m guessing that around the six month mark, Denny finally heard the belated news about you. He may have even heard it from more than one source. I’ll guess that’s when he first heard of your affairs during your relationship break and probably the first time he struck you. Am I right?”

  Ryan leaned forward. He was aware of the others shifting their body weight, too. They were all waiting for the first confirmation of what had often been a topic of conversation.

  “Yes,” she finally responded in a barely audible voice. “He said he’d never forgive me and he wanted a divorce, but when I gave him that, it wasn’t good enough.”

  Draegan went to the small refrigerator against the far wall and retrieved a box of tissues from the shelf above it. “He wanted you to suffer for embarrassing him?” Draegan set the tissues in front of her. “Was that it?”

  “No,” she replied, half-laughing, half-crying. “That’s the absurdity in all this. He once said he was ‘sick the quick’ just thinking about others touching me and then as time wore on, he would come by the house and make these foolish demands. He wanted me to sleep with him and another woman. Then he wanted me to fuck him and a few of his friends.”

  Ryan swallowed. His cock twitched in his slacks. He’d always been such a sucker for Ellie, but when a dirty word fell from her lips, she might as well have given his cock a stout pull.

  “And did you?”

  “He did not just ask her that.” Bradley fell against the back of his chair. “That’s none of his business.”

  “It’s important,” Harley said. “If she’s doing what she can to please him now, she can’t stay here. If she does, her time will be short lived. If she makes contact with him, he’ll use whatever he can as leverage and she’ll walk out of here.”

  “He knows all that,” Allister said, seemingly more tense than before.

  “That’s none of your business,” Ellie said.

  “Actually it is, Ellie.” Draegan pulled free a few tissues and handed them over. “See, if you’re still trying to please the shithead, we need to know. We want to protect you and we can, but we have to know what we’re facing before we accept residents here. I hope you understand. It’s for your protection. We need to know which side you’re on so when Denny comes looking for you, we know where you stand.”

  “Are you saying I’m not even safe here?” She rose from her chair. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  Draegan turned to the glass and shook his head, apparently aware of how desperately his brother wanted in that room. Given Allister’s body language, it was a miracle he’d remained on this side of the glass.

  “You keep looking at the window.” Ellie walked right up to the glass of deception. She waved her hand in front of it. “Who’s in there? Allister? Is that you?”

  “Ellie, come here and sit down.”

  “Don’t tell me to sit down.” She turned on Draegan then and the way she charged him was like an unexpected tornado touchdown in the middle of night. She looked like she didn’t have a direct aim but she knew where she was headed all the same. Her eyes were wild and crazy. Her hair lightly bounced against her shoulders as she shook her finger at him. “You have no idea what your brother put me through. No idea whatsoever.

  “And you can’t possibly predict what Denny will do. He’s dangerous. More importantly, he’s insane.”

  “How is any of this my brother’s fault?”

  Allister cocked his head and listened. His pained expression, particularly the sorrowful frown and empty eyes, reminded Ryan of a two-year old conversation, a temper tantrum well defined by a now hardened man’s rage, his heartache.

  Ryan swallowed once, remembering that sickening feeling he’d known so long ago. The night he’d found Allister curled up on the ground, bawling like a baby, and drunk as a skunk was an evening Ryan would never forget.

  It was the first night of the rest of a very different man’s life, one who had been nearly sinister in tone when he’d sworn to watch for an opening, a small window of opportunity. Allister had sworn if he had one chance, only one, he would take Ellie’s lying, cheating manipulative future husband to his pitiful knees.

  Ryan had stayed with Allister that particular wintry evening, assuring him one day they’d win her back. One day Ellie would realize she’d made a mistake and then she’d find her way home.

  When he’d finally sobered up four days later, it was too late. She’d tied the knot and no one had been able to stop her. The one person who might have been able to talk some sense into her had stayed drunk. Once he realized what he’d done, he’d screamed into the night in fits of agony. “She married him, Ryan! Damn it to hell! She married that two-timing bastard!”

  Ryan hadn’t wanted anyone to hear him so he, Harley, and Derek had helped Allister inside. As soon as they’d entered Allister’s home, he’d punched the wall, hit a stud, and broke several fingers. The pain in his hand apparently hadn’t held a candle to the agony in his heart. It hadn’t fazed him. Instead, his fury and deep-rooted sadness had lingered on and on and on.

  For the past two years, he’d nurtured his anger, fed it, and now in one snap of the fingers, he was a changed man. He even looked different.

  Ryan sensed Allister’s hard gaze leveled on him then but rather than return the stare, he focused on Ellie, the reason they were there. The only reason Harley had dared to wake them up was because of what they’d witnessed so far. Ellie’s indecision could put her back on the streets before she agreed to at least stay and give Trouble a chance.

  “I asked you a question, Ellie. Do you blame Allister for your decisions?”

  Ellie retreated and backed away from Draegan about the time Ryan looked up again. “No, of course not.” She seemed sorry then. She dragged her fingers across her forehead and down the side of her face, wincing when she touched her swollen cheek. “I blame him because he didn’t stop me from marrying Denny. I blame all of them—Ryan, Derek, and even Bradley.”

  “I don’t follow you,” Draegan said.

  “What did she mean by even?” Bradley asked. />
  “You aren’t exactly the aggressive type,” Derek told him.

  “All Allister would’ve needed to do was show up at the chapel and say, ‘Don’t’ and I wouldn’t have married Denny.”

  Stoic then, Allister never flinched. He seemed unmoved by her revelation, but Ryan knew better. Her confession then had cut deep and opened old festered wounds just oozing with infection, a disease for which there was certainly a name—devoted and unconditional love.

  Ryan loved Ellie, but Allister? He’d spent his high school years waiting for Ellie. He’d spent his young adulthood waiting for Ellie. And after one glorious weekend with the woman of his dreams, Allister had spent the last two years of his life waiting for Ellie.

  Draegan said, “Honey, I want to help you. Everyone here in Trouble will help you, but there are some rules here. You have to understand, we’re a community. Population is around a hundred and fifty and our goal is to see our community grow to over a thousand.

  “Single men and women have come here. A couple of relationships have blossomed into unconventional but loving bonds. Some people have met their matches in several others. They’ve decided to set down roots in a community where they’re accepted.

  “We even have our own post office, grocery store, and bank now. If you wanted to spend the rest of your life here, you could, but you’re not imprisoned. However, until your ex is no longer a threat to you, you have to agree to stay in Trouble. If you go outside these gates, you can’t leave without your security team, your escorts.”

  “Define escorts.”

  “Vixen,” Derek grumbled.

  Draegan said, “The women who live here came through our gates seeking protection and they found it. We assign anywhere from four to seven men to each woman, typically based on the threat. I’ll recommend that you have seven men assigned to your care.” He turned to the window one final time. “But don’t be surprised if you’re only guarded by four.”

  “Wait a minute,” she whispered in a barely audible voice. “You didn’t toss out a random number by chance.”

  “No I didn’t, Ellie. But before you see my brother or anyone else, there are a few things you should know.

  “One, your car was spotted by your ex-husband maybe fifteen minutes after you walked through the gates. Denny knows you’re here.”

  “What?” she screeched. He might as well have painted her face white. She was as pale as the walls.

  “This isn’t anything to be alarmed about. The men in surrounding communities often check here first. We want them to find the cars parked in our lots for a reason. They need to know they’ve reached the end of the line.

  “Now with that said, you need to realize we’re interested in saving the women who come to us, but we’ve tried to help some of them through the justice system and have little success in courts. You’ll find the legal system is often a forum that abusers use to their advantage.

  “Prior to setting up Trouble’s bylaws, we interviewed convicts serving time for domestic violence crimes. Many of them explained they would actually count down the days to their court dates, look forward to them more than anything else. They use the court system to intimidate their former lovers and spouses. It’s often the one chance they have to look them eye-to-eye and sometimes it’s the only opportunity they have to later have them tailed and followed to their new homes.

  “We won’t fight in court because we can’t win. An order of protection means nothing at all. It doesn’t protect anyone. It only aggravates the abuser and typically provokes him. That’s the opinion of the vast majority of Trouble’s founding fathers, but that doesn’t mean we’re right. If you feel you must fight your ex for whatever freedoms you feel you’re entitled to, then this isn’t the place for you.

  “We don’t care about winning in court. We care about saving lives and protecting those who are unable to protect themselves.

  “Our goal is to save one woman at a time. If you have women friends on the outside who are faced with similar problems at home, maybe one day you’ll reach out to them and tell them about your experiences here. In the meantime, let us fix things for you. Let us protect you. Let us handle your problems on the outside.”

  “His own mother and father couldn’t even handle him. You won’t be able to handle Denny either.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that. The men here aren’t afraid of much. Denny will be dealt with appropriately,” Draegan promised. “And if he cherishes his life, he’ll let you live yours.”

  Chapter Three

  Processing sucked. The waiting, the worrying, all of it just plain sucked.

  Allister paced the dormitory hallway wondering why he’d ever voted for building this godforsaken place. Most of the women there needed reassurance. They needed protection. They wanted love.

  They didn’t need their own damn private room in a dormitory for women-only.

  “Down this way.” Draegan’s voice filled the corridor. “You’re in room one fifteen. Did you leave your phone in your personal belongings?”

  “Yes,” Ellie said, probably lying.

  “Do you have a spare?”

  “No. Why would I have an extra phone? I didn’t know I was entering a lockdown facility.”

  “Let me be clear, Ellie. We have two thousand acres here and every inch of this place is under surveillance. Our fences are protected by more than barbed wire at the top. We have armed guards to keep people out, not in. If you decide you want to go, you can walk out anytime, but the most important rule here is one you need to remember—if you leave, you can’t come back.

  “With that said, we give our new residents their own phones. Our tech guys monitor them to ensure you’re not traced. On the chance you are, our guys can let us know and they can usually tell where the trace originated.”

  Allister pressed his head against the wall, wishing his brother would get the hell out of there. When he was in charge, it was like passing down a political title. He reveled in his perceived power.

  And it was grating on Allister’s doggone nerves.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “What am I supposed to do all day?”

  “Have you been working?”

  “Yes,” she quickly replied. “I work at the coffee and gift shop down on Market.”

  “You once worked at the coffee and gift shop,” Draegan corrected her.

  “Right,” she muttered.

  “Trouble has an internet café and we also have an art gallery and gift shop. I’ll see if they need any help at either place.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Get some sleep, Ellie. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

  “The idea of uninterrupted sleep sounds like heaven on earth.”

  “You deserve peace, Ellie. You’ll find it here. At least I hope you will. See you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Draegan.”

  A door closed and another one opened. His brother’s footsteps soon faded and Allister crept along the wall, careful to stay out of camera view until he reached room one fifteen.

  Then he turned the knob and entered her room whispering, “Ellie. It’s me, Allister.” He kept his voice low. There were other women on the hall and he didn’t want to make a racket. He didn’t want Ellie making a racket either.

  Yeah. Right.

  His body went rigid just thinking of Ellie making little whimpers, maybe even releasing outright screams.

  As soon as he walked in her room, he noticed the light underneath the bathroom door. He could hear the beating water spraying from the shower head.

  Damn.

  The thought of her fingers roaming over her naked flesh drove him to grip the doorknob. He eased it to the right and back to the left, finding the unlocked latch allowing access.

  All he had to do was take that first step and walk inside. Instead of following his instincts, he stilled. He stared at the floor, debating what to do.

  He wanted to go to her. He needed her worse than he needed anything or any
one in his life. He ached to hold her and reassure her. She needed to believe she’d made the right decision.

  It was his duty, his honor, to make everything all right for her again.

  From the moment he’d laid eyes on her so many years ago, he had been like this. Even when he was far too young to know, far too young to even care, really. He’d always had a physical reaction to her. When they were kids, if he saw her crying, he wanted to wipe away her tears. As they’d age, it was more than tears that had stoked his interest.

  Behind the door, the tremendous water pressure pounded her body. The thump thump thump never missed a beat as the power showerhead gave Ellie his money’s worth. He’d recently installed the upgraded bathroom amenities himself. The founding fathers had agreed they wanted the women living there to have the best of everything. The spa showers ranked up there with top of the line pampered treatments.

  At the thought, he released the handle and backed away from temptation. Ellie had been through a lot. He didn’t want to alarm her.

  Allister could almost hear Harley’s bellowing in his head. “You did what? You agreed to give her until morning. Why did you break the rules, Allister?”

  Why wasn’t even a question worth asking when the answer seemed so practical. He had longed for her in a way that matched any great love story. He wanted and needed her, but more than anything else, he needed her to want and need him as well.

  This wasn’t the way to go about it, he mused, walking around her room. He checked the thermostat and kicked up the heat a notch. While the days had been warm, the nights were cooler than usual for late September.

  He glared at the pile of clothes on her bed. Her zipped suitcase told a likely tale.

  Ellie would soon emerge from the bathroom in her birthday suit or maybe a towel. He chuckled to himself. Those towels were small. Unless she was a bag of bones now, she wouldn’t be completely covered.

  He pushed the heel of his hand down on his cock. Damn it. He needed to start slow here or he would inevitably scare her off. Besides, after what she’d been through, she probably hated men.