The Battlefield Series 5: Breaking Through the Pain (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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The Battlefield Series 5: Breaking Through the Pain
Cali is hiding out in Repose after her father's profession nearly gets her killed. She's pretending to be someone she isn't, but it's taking its toll, and she's ready to start living her life despite that danger. Now that's she's showing how professional she can be, and also reveals her true age, four men who saw her as too young, too clumsy, and inexperienced to pursue, are now dead set on making her their woman. It's going to take a whole lot of convincing, and even some common fears to let these men into her heart and trust them with her secret.
When she finally lets her guard down and realizes they all share battle wounds and fears of the past, that danger she hoped was in her past hunts her down to take her back, and her four, retired soldiers will have to use their resources to make sure she survives.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 55,451 words
THE BATTLEFIELD SERIES 5: BREAKING THROUGH THE PAIN
Dixie Lynn Dwyer
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
THE BATTLEFIELD SERIES 5: BREAKING THROUGH THE PAIN
Copyright © 2016 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-437-9
First E-book Publication: August 2016
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of The Battlefield Series 5: Breaking Through the Pain by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Breaking Through The Pain. Some experiences are too painful to remember. The Battlewounds a constant reminder of what happened, what could have happened and how life could have turned out differently. Cali doesn’t know all the details behind why she was a victim, only that she is determined to move on with her life and gain strength, power, confidence and to destroy feelings of weakness and vulnerability.
She makes the decision to move on and to live once again and not give the power to those demons haunting her every night. Falling in love, finding her soul mates was never even a thought. Letting down her guard just enough to let the perfect men in who have battle wounds of their own, just might save her from a lonely, fearful life.
In order to achieve the safety, security, companionship and love of four men she desires, she must allow them to help her break through the pain and conquer those demons holding her back and keeping her from loving them fully.
May you enjoy Cali’s story.
Happy reading.
Hugs!
~Dixie~
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
About the Author
THE BATTLEFIELD SERIES 5: BREAKING THROUGH THE PAIN
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2016
Prologue
Cali Walsh stood in the kitchen doorway overhearing a phone conversation between Peter and Cali’s father, and it didn’t sound good.
“So there’s no way for them to know she’s here?” Peter asked, and when he ran his fingers through his hair and turned around, he caught sight of her and froze.
“Cali just walked into the kitchen. Would you like to speak to her?” Peter asked her father.
That was one thing she learned right away about Peter and his brothers. They didn’t bullshit anyone, lie to them, or try to sugarcoat it. They had been honest with her from the start and expected her honesty in return. Which was difficult. She felt for a while now like her father wasn’t honest with her, especially about why she had been abducted. The men who had taken her talked about him. They said things, telling her he’d known that she’d been taken, yet he’d never come. There was a mix of emotions…anger, hurt, fear… She had it all bottled up inside now, and no one to tell, to make understand her feelings. She was an outsider despite the care and compassion Peter and his family provided.
What she hadn’t expected was to see Peter’s eyes widen a moment, then squint in anger before he looked at her and shook his head. Her father didn’t want to speak to her? Why not? What had she done? He was the one who had caused all the trouble. She was abducted because of his dealings on the force, and being a detective working a case. She was the one abducted from the college campus, assaulted, kept in a crate in the dark, and brutally beaten and left to die. All because of a case he’d worked on. The people he’d been after found out and went after his family.
The tears stung her eyes and she walked out of the room. Loneliness. That was a word, a sensation she knew the ins and outs of. Any time she spent with others was temporary companionship. Loneliness stuck around, dug deeper like a scar, an un-healable wound. No
matter how much ointment, how many remedies to fix, to mend and relieve the pain, the damn things remained there so deeply embedded she could feel them. Especially at night. Especially in the dark when those demons came back to haunt her.
Cali plopped down onto the chair on the porch and tucked her feet under her. She stared out at the open land. The beautiful country of Repose, Texas, a place, a town so amazing and beautiful, she felt too ugly, too damaged to be part of it really. She could play her part. Pretend to be the hard-working young waitress just trying to mature when she was way more mature than most. She had seen, had battled, more than a lot of people could handle and still pretend to be unscathed by evil.
She tilted her chin up, no longer teary-eyed over the realities of her life. Instead, she focused on a future she hoped to have and a time when she would feel something more than fear. Something bigger than the heated breath of death upon her shoulder, or the hope for death to take her quickly instead of making her suffer so much pain and fear.
She rubbed her arm. It had been broken in three places—and a bullet had been lodged in there, too. She could have lost her arm completely. She cringed just thinking about that. People had a hard time looking at and speaking with individuals who were missing limbs. Even soldiers who lost those limbs protecting U.S. citizens here at home. They forgot so easily what a soldier sacrifices. Hell, she wasn’t a soldier. She didn’t sign on to become a captive victim of some criminal shitheads out to seek revenge on her father. She was a college student getting ready to graduate and take on the dream job of her life. Corporate America, Manhattan, New York, the place to be to make it big and succeed in life.
Instead, she’d lost it all. And it seemed decisions were being made for her. The odds of being a successful woman were minimizing every day. Her focus continued to be on remaining in hiding. Do not expose your real identity, trust no one, and live in fear.
She longed to not recall the convoluted thoughts and actions of her captors or the sounds of their deep, foreign voices, and the stench of their sweaty bodies. Till this day, certain smells reminded her of that time—her prison, her death sentence, her suffering, all caused by nothing she did, but by her father, a man she would always love.
“I’m sorry, Cali. He didn’t want the call to last too long. He’s being cautious,” Peter told her.
“Don’t lie to me. I get it. Let him have his guilt. It will only deepen the wedge he’s creating between us. God knows I’ll probably never see my father again.”
“I’ve never lied to you. He’s worried. If he says that he doesn’t want to take a chance and cut the call short, then he means it.”
“I get it, Peter. More time passes between the calls. Soon it will be months that go by and we hear nothing. I know what I need to do. I’m prepared to do it. The waitressing is a start, but, eventually, once I get it through my head that there will be no going back to who I was, then I can start my new life. Find a regular job with the degree I have. Maybe pay for the new identity so I can use my credentials and stop pretending to be a twenty-year-old airhead,” she said to him.
He gripped the railing, looked out at his land, and then turned to the right to look at her. Peter was a very tall, handsome man who was involved in some business years ago before returning home, retiring early. His relationship with her father, Jack, dated back to college. They had been close. Even when her father graduated from the police academy, Peter had been there. The bond must have been strong between them because twenty-five years later, that strength and trust of that friendship was tested as her father sent her to be cared for and hidden. She hadn’t even known fully where she was, in and out of consciousness as her body healed.
“No one thinks that you’re a twenty-year-old airhead. If you want to switch jobs then we can do that for you, no questions asked by anyone. Are you ready to commute to another town for something financially stimulating, or are you okay with a midlevel position in a small business in town? I hear that Lance Evans and his wife are looking to expand their law firm. They need a paralegal.”
“A paralegal? Really, Peter? I’m not looking to sit in some cubicle or box of an office and read and research all day long. How boring is that? I want to be around people. Good people. It’s a plus to this town. Though small and close knit, the people have good hearts and are honest. I want to surround myself with honesty. The rest will come along on its own. Which, by the way, Wayde’s been avoiding those shooting lessons. I thought he was going to start to teach me a few things.”
“He’s concerned about your state of mind and the fact that you’re still having nightmares and seem on edge more often than not.”
“Post-traumatic stress. You have heard of it, Peter?” she replied sarcastically and then smiled. She looked down at her hands and could see they were unsteady.
“It takes time. Years, not months, to recover from what you went through,” Peter told her, but she already knew that. Had done research on the disorder and read numerous stories about various events that could make a person suffer from episodes, and even violent actions. She feared her thoughts. Could totally empathize with other people suffering from the disorder. It wasn’t a good feeling to have a flashback and come out of it to see people staring at you, hovering over you, or just looking at you like you had lost your mind and were a threat to society. She hadn’t had any episodes at the Station, so no one knew. Here at the house, she’d had a few in front of Peter and the family. In her apartment? Often, because loneliness and insomnia brought them on big time.
“It’s going to take a lifetime. I’ve come to that realistic conclusion.”
He stepped closer and took a seat on the chair next to her.
“Honey, we discussed talking to someone about dealing with it all.”
She shook her head. “Most of the scars are gone,” she stated.
“Not the invisible ones, and surely not the one on your chest that nearly killed you.”
She swallowed and felt the instant tightness at the memory. She should have died, being shot. He was so close when he pulled the trigger. By turning her body to the right, the bullet missed her heart and wedged between her breast and armpit. Considering that she had been beaten, starved, and tortured for quite some time, any of her other injuries could have taken her life. Breaking her arm in three places, and the bullet lodging in her armpit and under her shoulder could have made her an amputee.
“No need to talk about it.”
Peter exhaled. “You see? Right there. You can’t keep all of this bottled up inside, Cali.”
“I’m doing just fine, and how the hell did this conversation get turned into one about me getting counseling and talking about what happened to me? Let’s get back to where this started. My father. What’s the deal now? What’s his lame excuse for not wanting to even talk to me on the phone and hear my voice?”
“He doesn’t know if any of them are listening in.”
“That’s bullshit. He’s hiding something. What is it? You know, don’t you, Peter?” She confronted him and he looked away from her.
“You said you would never lie to me. Is he still hunting those men down? Is he still a detective? Do they have a price on his head? On mine?”
“Your safety is top priority.”
He looked at her and it seemed to her that he wanted to say something, but held back. It made her uneasy.
“Just tell me what you’re thinking. Perhaps I’m thinking the same.”
“I don’t know what your father is up to. I don’t know why he calls and then has nothing to say. He’s giving me nothing.”
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. Her gut clenched double time. She hated to face the facts, but it seemed to her that her father had changed, and maybe he didn’t care. After all, she had saved herself. He hadn’t saved her. She’d been the one to get out of there, to shoot and kill, to fight for her life. Her captors had told her they knew everything about her. She recalled bits and pieces of conversations she overheard, and they l
ed her to believe that her father was a part of the illegal activities they did. He was a detective, so maybe he was working undercover like he said. Her gut clenched again. She would never know the truth. She just didn’t know him anymore.
“Then tell Wayde to teach me how to shoot. Let me survive my way, otherwise I’ll be forced to leave. To get out of Repose, and whatever happens, happens.”
His eyes widened. “Why would you consider that, when you’ve made such good friends like Amber, Chloe, and Lori from the Filling Station?”
“I think I’m getting tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. I don’t even get the same respect the other waitresses get.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Dominick gives me a hard time, and his brother, Shimmy, who only just started recently, is constantly snapping at me and giving me attitude. I catch him staring at me like I’m a waste of space.”
“They’re complicated men, older and set in their ways. Plus, maybe he stares at you because you’re so beautiful and sweet.”
“I doubt that. I don’t talk to them unless I have to, and even then, words are limited. They’re in their thirties, and I get the whole retired soldier thing, but it’s like they really take their anger out on me and pick on me for not being as good as the other waitresses.”
“So do better. You’re improving, from what Amber said.”
“I can be the best person in there. Hell, I could run the place if Brooklyn was looking for another manager.”