Lexi's Untamed Cowboys [Casanova Cowboys] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rhea Regale

  “Don’t,” Brent growled. With the second gun, he aimed dead center at the first man’s forehead. “You’re in the middle of nowhere. I’ll kill you both, and no one will ever know. Where’re your friends?”

  He caught the first man stretching his hand down his leg. Brent fired off one shot, catching the man in the shoulder. His bark echoed, spooking the horses into a stamping frenzy. The piercing crack of thunder that shook through the barn didn’t help calm the stock, but it hid the ensuing howl from the man as he rolled on the ground, holding his bloody shoulder.

  Travis stirred, a deep furrow between his brows. Brent swept his gaze between the men.

  “Go ’head. I’ll shoot you, too,” he warned the second man, whose hand remained posed against his jacket. “Eh, what the hell.”

  Brent fired another shot, catching the man in the leg. He tucked one gun in his jeans and walked over to the second man as he dropped to his knee, holding his injured thigh.

  “Fuck, are you crazy?” the man shrieked. Brent chuckled, the dark, menacing sound chilling his own blood.

  “When one fucks with my family. You and your buddies crossed that line earlier, asking about the woman.” He grabbed a rope from the wall hooks where the bridles and reins were kept, yanked the man’s arms behind him, and tied them without reservation.

  “Ouch!” he whined.

  “Not tight enough?” Brent cinched the rope until the man’s arms were at a painful angle, tied above the elbows. His attention never left the first guy breathing heavily as a small pool of blood formed beneath his shoulder. Travis’s head lolled against the ground, a wince twisting his face into a painful expression.

  Brent finished hog-tying the man and shoved him onto his side. He relieved him of his weapons and used the end of the rope to tie around his thigh to slow the bleeding. With another loop of rope for the second guy, he paused beside his lover.

  “You’ve no idea who you’re up against,” the man spat.

  Brent spun on him, aimed his gun, and shot the ground a handful of inches from the guy’s face. The horses spooked, whinnying in their stalls. Dust plumed around the man’s head. The furious red drained from his face, leaving him pale with fear flashing in his eyes.

  “No, sir. You haven’t any idea who you’re up again,” Brent snapped, squatting down. He cupped Travis’s face, brushing his thumb over his brow. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Hey, give me a minute, and I’ll get you outta here.”

  “Damn head,” Travis groaned. He struggled to sit up, and Brent eased him upright. The first man began to regain his wits, drawing Brent away from Travis as he rubbed the side of his head, his locks moist with blood.

  Brent tied up the first man’s wrists, dragged him to a support beam that reached up to the hayloft, and secured him, ignoring the yelps of pain from the awkward position of his injured shoulder. He found a rag and used it to tie around the man’s upper arm, then returned to Travis as he stumbled to his feet.

  “Easy,” Brent said. Travis grabbed hold of his shoulder. Brent came under him, looping his arm over his shoulders, and they started back to the house.

  “She’ll be dead before you reach that house!” one of the men yelled. Despite the taunt, his damn gut instinct coiled and curled, leaving him sick with the thought of something happening to Lexi.

  A shrill scream pierced through the wind, the rain, and the thunder. A gunshot echoed, and he realized he may be too late.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lexi would have been a dead woman had the flapping of the barn doors and the draft from being left alone in bed not roused her from sleep.

  She heard the crash of the front door, the tyrant march of determined feet, and the hushed whispers creeping up the stairs, and she knew Dom had found her.

  She grabbed the first pieces of clothing she could find—a ripped T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that hung past her knees—and staved off the paralyzing effects of raw fear long enough to reach the bedroom door. The hallway was empty for the moment. She cursed her lack of curiosity toward the house. Now she ran it as blind as those stalking her.

  Preparing to dive down the hallway to another room, she caught the glint of a steel-barreled gun appear at the head of the stairs. The fingers gripping the gun held familiar gold rings. The heavily-starched shirt cuff did not hide the familiar Bulgari Ergon watch encircling the wrist, or the diamond-winking cuff links.

  Her heart dropped. Her lungs quivered. A sickening stew stirred in the vat of her gut, leaving her on the verge of tears and straight-up cold terror.

  Lexi jerked back into the room and desperately looked around for a weapon. She scurried to the nightstand drawers, her body trembling so bad she could barely hold the handle without knocking against the brass fixtures.

  She found a small pistol in one drawer, but her mind couldn’t wrap around the nuances of getting it to work. Her hands shook so much, she would never get a steady shot, but it was her only chance of survival.

  A footstep beyond the bedroom door froze her in place, pistol in hand. That menacing barrel came into view first. This time, she didn’t wait to see proof of who held that weapon. She knew a bullet etched with her name sat in the clip, and Dom was eager to slam it through her head.

  She dropped to her hands and knees, lowering her head to see beneath the bed. She watched his polished leather shoes turn into the room, a second pair of shoes continuing down the hallway. Her finger hooked around the trigger, pistol against the floor and pointed toward those feet slowly approaching her. Each step messed with her head, strangling her breath bit by bit. She swayed, her vision tilting, tipping, and graying everything except for those feet.

  Oh god, where are you, Travis? Brent? Please, please be okay.

  Because there was a sickeningly good chance Dom and his men already came across her cowboys.

  The ferocious slam of her heart at this rapid pace was stressing her sternum. Her chest ached, physically ached, from fear. She needed to get control of herself, otherwise she would be dead within minutes.

  Closing her eyes, she focused on sucking in a steady breath, releasing it, sucking in another, and then finding Dom’s feet. The tremors remained, but a new strength crept through her muscles.

  I’m not going to die. Not tonight.

  As soon as the toes of his shoes turned toward the bathroom, Lexi made a silent prayer, jumped up, and let out a heaven-shattering scream.

  Dom startled. She fired off one shot and sprang for the hallway, slamming the door shut behind her. She needed time. She needed to know who else was in the house. She needed to call the cops.

  Travis, Brent, please be alive.

  Danny skated to a halt in a doorway down the hallway. Lexi threw her hands up and fired another shot, splintering the wooden jamb. She didn’t slow down, barreling toward the stairs.

  Halfway down the stairs, another person appeared, gun raised. Her heels slid out beneath her, and she fell flat on her back over the hardwood stairs. Air rushed out of her lungs as the man fired, missing her completely.

  Lexi lifted her pistol and squeezed off another shot. The man flailed backward, spinning to the left. His gun dropped. She scrambled to her feet and lunged over the man.

  “Damn it, Joseph. Grab her!” Dom’s voiced boomed from above.

  The man snagged her ankle as she hurried by. She caught her balance before she tumbled forward. Her chest burned, her lungs desperate for air.

  She threw Dom a panicked glance, stomped down on Joseph’s wrist, and sprinted for the front door.

  A shot whizzed by her, the heat of the bullet barely missing her shoulder. She shrieked, breath flooding her lungs. She dodged to the left, out from the open doorway, and didn’t stop until she reached the end of the porch.

  “It’s pointless, Lexi!” Dom roared behind her. “Stop running!”

  Lexi grabbed the wooden railing and propelled herself beneath it, into the yard, as another shot fired. This one hit the wood inches from her hand. The railing snapped b
eneath her weight, sending her off balance as her feet slid over the soft ground. She fell, landing on her elbows and knees in the soft, muddy ground, the pistol flying from her hand. Her foot bent forward, her ankle twisting against the pressure of her body. Rain pelted down, stinging her skin.

  Go, go, go!

  Dom rushed down the porch, his gun aimed square at her. She struggled against the soggy ground, grappling for the muddy gun. Her toes sunk in, gaining grip, and she got to her feet. Pain shot up her leg. Her ankle protested the weight of her body. She tried a step, cringed, and then forced herself forward at a debilitating pace.

  Lexi glanced over her shoulder. Dom snapped the splintered railing with a sharp kick of his foot and hopped off the porch. He turned to her slowly, a murderer relishing in the helplessness of his victim. His shoulders straightened as the rain plastered his black hair over his forehead. Death and darkness pulsed off him. His malicious white smile reflected the streak of lightning that broke through the night and flashed in his dark eyes.

  The gun rested at his side. He stalked her, toying with her as she hobbled forward, trying to escape the inescapable.

  At last, her fear cracked the fortified wall her adrenaline had erected. She sobbed once. Rain poured down her face, plastering her hair to her head and neck. The simple clothing weighed heavily on her arms and legs, slowing her pace.

  “Those two guys, Lexi? The two who were idiots enough to hide you?” Dom’s focused gaze burned her. “Dead.”

  “No,” she whispered. Travis and Brent weren’t dead. They couldn’t be. She shook her head, stumbling in a divot in the ground.

  “Yes, sweetheart. You killed them.” He laughed. Lightning split the sky. Thunder cracked. “You killed them by coming here. You should’ve never run. You know I always get what I want. I was bound to catch you sooner or later. I’ve been tracking you through your phone.”

  Her phone? How the hell had she not thought about her phone?

  Lexi shuddered. She should never have stayed here, never have given Travis or Brent a second thought, never have hoped. Instead, she fell in love at the speed of light and gave into every dream she had about happiness.

  Another sob escaped her lips. God, no! They are not dead!

  She turned away from Dom, trying to quicken her pace. Her ankle hindered each step. She was nothing more than lame prey for the bloodthirsty lion at her back.

  “You should never have come back to the club. You would still be in my home, living it up like you’ve always wanted. You could’ve had everything. Oh Lexi, Lexi, Lexi. You know what happens to those who defy me.”

  A dark, hulking figure stepped out from the back of the house, a half-dozen feet in front of her. It took her a moment to realize Danny had blocked her escape.

  Lexi stopped, the monkey caught between two hunters. She looked back at Dom. That cold, murderous smile lit his face in the stormy night. She whimpered, tears mixing with rain. Her mind rolled. Her heart stammered.

  She turned to Danny. He raised his gun.

  Time slowed, that gun lifting level with her head. The rain became a muffled drone. The lightning and thunder ceased to make her squint or cringe.

  The pistol in her hand grew heavy. The tremors racking through her body dulled. Was this how a person felt when they stared death in the eye?

  One gun to her front, one at her back. She had one pistol, hopefully a bullet or two left. She wasn’t a sure shot, but she would get one off before a rebound hit her from either weapon set on killing her.

  Danny shifted. She squeezed her finger against the trigger, squeezing her eyes shut.

  A shot rang and her body jerked.

  Lexi screamed, waiting to feel the shattering pain as a bullet sliced through her. She waited and waited.

  Time jump-started. The rain’s fierce drive pelted her skin. The shrieks of thunder and the bright flashes of lightning stunned her senses.

  She opened her eyes, daring to believe she was still alive. A dark heap filled the ground where Danny had stood. And Travis—

  “Oh god,” she gasped. She cast a dazed glance over her shoulder. Brent stood behind Dom, a gun jammed into the base of her ex’s skull. Dom glowered at her with raging hatred, but he held his gun at his side, not trained on her as she expected.

  Her arms dropped to her side, every ounce of strength draining so suddenly her knees buckled and she sank to the soft, wet ground. The gun fell from her fingers, now in the embrace of full-fledged trembling.

  Travis dropped in front of her, tossing his gun aside, and roughly gathered her into his arms.

  “Lexi,” he groaned. “Oh hell, Lexi.”

  She clamored against him, clawing deeper into his body, his arms, trying to pull every inch of herself into his lap. She didn’t know when she began sobbing, but the rush of outward cries were uncontrollable, like the intense quaking of her body. Travis pulled her closer still, cocooning himself around her, kissing her head and her face.

  “It’s over, baby,” Travis cooed, rocking her in his arms. “It’s over.”

  * * * *

  Brent stabbed the barrel of the gun against the base of the man’s skull.

  “Drop the fucking gun or I’ll drop you,” he warned, his voice loud enough to be heard through the pummeling storm. The man didn’t comply. His resolve hardened at the sight of his woman—their woman—in the midst of hysterics. She clawed her way up Travis’s chest, balling herself as tightly as she could in his lap, her face pressed to his shoulder.

  He wanted to kill this bastard for threatening Lexi to such a degree she was breaking apart in Travis’s arms.

  “Don’t try to call my bluff. I shot your two men in the barn without a second thought. In Ryder, we have the right to shoot anyone who trespasses. I’ll kill you, and no one will question the reason why,” Brent added. He nudged the barrel against Dom’s skull again, jerking the man’s body.

  At last, the gun slipped from his fingers. The tension in his body held him stiff. Brent pulled back his jacket and checked for another weapon, but came up empty.

  In the distance, sirens screeched.

  “Let’s get her inside,” Brent called over to Travis.

  He waited as Travis lifted Lexi into his arms and moved at a brisk pace to the porch. Brent nudged Dom with the gun, urging him to follow. The man hesitated then trudged after the couple. His body remained rigid, his hands fisted at his sides. He stumbled in a dip in the lawn that had filled with muddy water, and pitched forward.

  Brent groaned. “Up.”

  Dom cast him a glower that may have chilled anyone else, but having grown up in LA and having seen a seedier side of the city, this man held nothing compared to the ruffians he dealt with in his youth.

  Dom pulled his knees beneath him and pressed to his feet.

  Brent caught the slick movement, the split moment when Dom’s hand slid over his ankle and released a hidden pistol. When the man turned to fire, Brent released the first shot, catching him in the shoulder. Dom howled, slamming a hand over his wound, the pistol dropping to the wet ground with a splash.

  “Lucky I didn’t go for your eyes,” Brent said, grabbing Dom’s good arm and shoving him toward the house.

  Chapter Twenty

  Four Months Later

  Dom Gagliardi’s trial was set soon after his expedition to New York. With an anonymous tip about where some plastic-bagged bodies were tossed into the Hudson, New York’s dive team was able to recover two of the three men Lexi had witnessed being murdered. Detectives and the city’s forensic team were able to retrieve a bullet from one victim and match the striations to a bullet from the same gun Dom had intended to use on her. The evidence to prove murder piled up quickly, and the DA rushed ahead with the notorious nightclub’s prosecution for murder in the first degree.

  Alexis Barrett testified in court to what she had witnessed the night of the murders. Despite cross examination, her testimony was solid. She was not frightened of Dom anymore, not with Travis and Brent sitting at
the back of the room, supporting her every step of the way. They were asked to give statements on the stand that recounted Dom’s attempt to murder her that stormy evening in Ryder. Together, the three of them made a powerful impression on the judge and the jury.

  After a three-hour deliberation, the jury came back. Dominick Gagliardi, for the murder of Harold Winster and James DeGroot, guilty in the first degree. For the attempted murder of Alexis Barrett, guilty.

  Two consecutive life terms and an additional twenty-five years without the possibility of parole lifted the darkest cloud from Lexi’s shoulders. She left the courthouse with Travis at her left and Brent at her right, the sun shining down in victorious rays on that cold afternoon as they left the nightmare of her life in New York behind.

  * * * *

  Travis and Brent filled her days with more love and passion than she could have ever hoped for, whispering dreams of their future as the leaves changed during the fall, and their choice of seduction as the first snow fell.

  Miss Bess took her under her wing, teaching her the ways of the kitchen and traditional Southern hospitality. Lexi found herself spending many days working alongside Travis’s aunt, listening to stories of him as a boy playing with his extensive list of cousins, who were dubbed the Casanova Cowboys back in high school.

  “Those boys left a trail of broken hearts,” she had said. “And continue to do so.”

  Lexi brought the title to their bed that night and was rewarded with a satiable evening of Travis and Brent liquefying her through splitting orgasm after orgasm until she couldn’t move.

  What she loved the most was watching Travis and Brent tend to the horses, teaching her bits and pieces of cowboy life along the way. Travis taught her to ride his most docile mare, soothing all of her fears of the powerful creatures. The three of them would ride down to their private pond and make love all afternoon.