Armored Hearts [The Town of Pearl 7] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

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Armored Hearts [The Town of Pearl 7] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 3

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

“You may just be surprised what kind of man you are, when that perfect woman comes along and brings it out in you. Thanks, Dmitri. I owe you big time.”

  “And I will collect one day.”

  Dmitri disconnected the call and then called Ford. Everything was set. They were minutes away from the airport and his men were securing the area, making sure that none of Andrei’s men were there.

  He thought about what Aspen said. About him making a woman a great husband one day. He never bothered dreaming of things like that. Not in this life. Not being a made man, and not when he had the enemies he did. He could never place a woman in such danger. Besides, his heart was locked up and hidden deep inside where no one could get through. Sometimes, by his own actions, he wondered if he even had a heart.

  He cleared his mind and focused on the plan. India needed protection, and Ford and his team were definitely going to.

  Chapter 3

  “Grey, did you clear everything with Wyatt and the guys from the department?” Ford Montgomery asked as they waited for the private jet to land.

  “Sure did. He offered any assistance we might need in securing the package,” Grey responded.

  “It won’t be necessary,” Ford replied firmly. Trust was something earned, not automatically given. Ford and his team didn’t trust easy at all. They were quiet, diligent in their professions and whatever jobs they engaged in. This was a special case. Silas was a good friend, a fellow soldier, and trustworthy. He had a similar personality to Ford and they didn’t share any personal information. Ford knew Silas had a sister who lived in Chicago and who was wealthy from working in the business field. Something to do with fashion and technology through computer software development.

  “You sure she’ll be comfortable back here in the van?” Grey asked as he looked at the makeshift gurney they’d set up back there. Victor’s report was sickening. The poor woman was beaten and had nearly been killed. Seeing her before picture and how attractive she was made his stomach ache. Despite the reports of her injuries, Ford didn’t know what to expect and nor did Grey.

  The sound of the radio going off indicating that the plane landed. It was time to move into action. They waited for the plane to stop before they headed closer with the van and parked right alongside the exit ramp.

  Ford got out and met Victor. They shook hands.

  “She’s out cold from the painkillers. Dmitri is carrying her down. I’ve got the men unloading some luggage of hers with clothes and things. Anything else you need, just contact us on the burner phone.”

  “You got it. We’ll take care of her,” Grey said.

  Ford and Grey looked up as Dmitri carried a woman down the stairs from the plane. She was dressed in baby blue lounge pants, a matching sweatshirt, and thick socks. Her long platinum-blonde hair cascaded over Dmitri’s arm and blew around in the soft breeze.

  They motioned toward the van and Grey got inside and helped Dmitri set her down on the gurney.”

  “Holy fuck,” Grey said and Ford gulped down the emotions he felt at seeing India. The woman was swollen and bruised everywhere.

  “I hope Silas is planning on killing the fucking piece of shit that did this. You let him know if he needs help, I’ll fly out immediately. Wherever, whenever,” Grey told Victor and Ford.

  “He’ll appreciate that. Please take good care of her. We’ll be in touch,” Dmitri said and then gently ran his finger along India’s cheek away from the bruises. Ford felt a mix of emotions. Something stirred inside of him. Something he couldn’t identify and wouldn’t take the time to. They needed to move. He never entertained emotions. Emotions made men do stupid shit. Emotions got men killed.

  “You stay in back with her and I’ll drive us to the estate. I’ll radio Fenton that we’re on our way.”

  Grey nodded his head as he stared at the woman. He felt so disgusted and pissed off.

  * * * *

  Ford was shocked when Grey reached over and caressed the stray hair from India’s cheek.

  Grey was a hard man just like the rest of them. But seeing him being so immediately concerned over the stranger annoyed him.

  “Hey, we’ve got a job to do.”

  Grey shot him a look and appeared taken aback by Ford’s snappy attitude as well as at being caught actually caring.

  Ford closed the doors and headed to the front of the van. He followed his gut and trusted it immensely. Something suddenly felt different. The atmosphere had changed. His mind wondered on different things as he pondered more about India and who she was. He couldn’t help but feel that this mission, this personal favor they were doing for a friend would change their lives. He just hoped that it didn’t get them all killed.

  * * * *

  Fenton and Flynn stood by the doorway staring at the sleeping beauty in the guest bedroom. Fenton had already done an entire sweep of the perimeter of their property and now joined Flynn.

  “I’d like to come face to face with the pussy bastard that did this to the poor thing.”

  “You read her file from Dmitri, Flynn. She was caught in the middle of some Russian mob shit. We know how that goes. She’s lucky to be alive,” Fenton replied and didn’t walk any deeper into the room. As far as he was concerned, despite India being Silas’s sister, she was just another job, a person they needed to keep safe. They knew men who were involved with organizations like the Russians. They had a few friends in the Italian mafia, Puerto Rican gangs, Dominicans, and Asians. Shit, to think about it, they knew a lot of men doing heavy illegal shit. It was a career path and a way of life for many of them. Some were even involved before the war and others after.

  But Ford, Fisher, Grey, and Flynn, along with him, rarely got involved with illegal jobs. They weren’t saints, but he didn’t give a shit. Only the good die young.

  With that thought, Fenton remembered men, fellow team members who gave the ultimate sacrifice in protecting this country as well as those who lost their minds because of it. They were all good men.

  Fenton walked into the kitchen to find Fisher back home from work. He placed his Stetson down on the counter and washed his hands by the sink.

  “How is she today?” he asked. Fenton gave a small shake of his head, indicating no change.

  “Damn, I was hoping that she would be able to shower today and change. She was complaining about that yesterday.” He shook his head.

  Her condition was another thing. The broken ribs, sprained wrist, and bruising and swelling made her unable to walk and move on her own. Fisher and Ford were going to help her get into the bath but then she was moaning and in pain. They gave her half a pill despite her demand of not wanting a whole one, and then she passed out.

  “Maybe she’ll wake up soon? She did yesterday around dinner time,” Fenton told Fisher as Fisher walked from the kitchen and down the hallway, gun, badge, and all. Fenton watched him go as Grey arrived in his deputy uniform.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  Fenton released an annoyed sigh. They’d watched over numerous people before, including a few women, but he never saw this type of reaction from his buddies.

  “Sleeping. What else would she be doing?” he snapped and stood up, prepared to head outside to the barn.

  “What’s with you?” Grey asked and leaned against the island in the kitchen with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “Nothing. I’ll be out in the barn getting shit done and walking the perimeter. Save my supper on the stove if you’re all done eating already before I’m back. I’ll bring Magnum, Charles, and Clint, with me.”

  He let the three dogs out before he walked out, huffing and puffing and then really pissed off for suddenly feeling bad about it.

  Fenton was a survivalist, a hunter, a tracker, and a real hard ass. This sitting around babysitting a sleeping woman was horse shit.

  So why was he feeling disappointed that he might miss seeing sleeping beauty awake?

  The three German Shepherds followed on his heels.

  He mumbled as he ki
cked the dirt and headed straight for the shed, pulling the jacket snugger against his chest with thoughts of his private stock of whiskey.

  * * * *

  India immediately knew that she wasn’t in her own bed or in the hospital bed. She had wondered if she had been dreaming about the men Dmitri told her would be protecting her and caring for her. They seemed so dark and angry when they looked her in the eyes. It made her feel ugly, unimportant, and a real burden. When she felt the surge of anger it immediately exhausted her. She didn’t want to take the damn pain meds but she needed them or she would cry, and something told her not to cry, complain, or act affected in front of these big men. The little time she was able to stay awake to drink a shake, she saw that two of the men always wore camo pants. They looked fierce, untrusting, and all business. They were definitely not from Chicago.

  She blinked her eyes open best she could and felt the instant ache to her eye socket. She moaned and then felt the pain in her dry, swollen lips and of course her jaw. She didn’t dare move an inch on the bed or the excruciating pain in her ribs would make her cry out or worse, pass out. She had no choice but to take those painkillers. She had to use a bathroom, and more importantly, she needed to bathe.

  She asked the one guy, Fisher, to give her half a pill so she could try to shower. But the last thing she remembered was the feel of muscles as he carried her down the hallway and the expression on the other guy’s face. But that also seemed like a dream. Maybe it never happened. It must be the drugs.

  “Hey, you’re awake.” She heard the deep voice and turned too quickly.

  “Ouch,” she said and Fisher’s eye brows crunched up as he approached quickly. Fisher. He was one of the men watching over her.

  She noticed the law enforcement uniform. A star for a badge, a gun, and a white dress shirt. Law enforcement? Had something gone wrong? Why would law enforcement be helping a friend who was involved with the Russian mob? She suddenly felt scared like maybe she didn’t belong here. Maybe these weren’t the men who were supposed to watch over her.

  “Maybe a drink of water might help,” he suggested as he held a glass of water with a straw in it toward her.

  The sound of someone else entering the room drew her attention as she debated what to do. What could she do? She was injured, couldn’t even walk on her own, never mind sit up in this damn bed without help. She felt like she had gotten run over by a truck.

  Then she saw the guy named Grey. He was wearing a uniform, too. A different one. Her eyes were blurry as she felt the tears emerge.

  “Whoa, it’s okay. We’re going to take good care of you, darling. You just relax and take a sip of this water,” Fisher told her. He had such a deep, hard voice, it made her shake, but she needed a sip of water. Her throat felt so dry and her lips sore.

  She took the sip as she leaned forward, cringing from the small movement. Maybe she just needed to force herself to get up and move around?

  “There you go,” Fisher said and gave a soft semismile.

  She stared at their uniforms and debated about what to say. As if they read her train of thought, Grey spoke up first. “We’re the good guys, darling. We’ve known your brother Silas for years. I’m a deputy with the local sheriff’s department, here in Pearl.”

  “I’m a Ranger, hence the uniform,” Fisher said and held her gaze, still appearing annoyed, and maybe angry.

  She felt intimidated to say the least.

  “What day is it?” she asked and tried adjusting her position on the bed. As she moved she caught a whiff of body odor and felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She stunk.

  “You’ve been here for just about two weeks come tomorrow,” Grey said as he joined her on the other side of the bed.

  “Two weeks? Oh God. I’m really messed up. It felt like two days. I don’t remember anything.” She sighed as she tried sitting up again. How could she stay sleeping on and off for two weeks? Did she get up to use the bathroom? Had she eaten? How could it all be a blur?

  “Don’t freak out about not remembering anything. We took care of you, guided you,” Grey told her.

  “Oh God, how embarrassing,” she whispered and sunk lower onto the bed. Then came the thoughts of what she needed to do. She shouldn’t take the painkillers. They messed her up good. What if these men touched her? How the hell could she forget if she even went to the bathroom or not?

  As painful as she knew it was going to be, she needed a shower and she needed one badly. She was not a woman to ever let herself go and she sure wasn’t going to let broken ribs and battered body parts stop her from feeling fresh and clean, and especially in front of a bunch of men.

  “I think I need a shower,” she whispered in a very hoarse voice. She felt her throat ache now and remembered how Iakov had held her by her throat and shook her. She closed her eyes and willed the thoughts away.

  “Maybe a bath would be better? Soaking could heal the muscles and relax them, plus in the shower, with your injuries, you’ll never be able to wash your own hair and body. At least soaking in the tub can do the trick for now,” Grey told her.

  She gulped just thinking about getting in and out of the tub.

  “I don’t think I can do that.” She felt the tear roll down her cheek the moment the thought of bending, stretching, and then trying to get up out of the tub went through her mind. She had no control over it. The tear just escaped on its own. She definitely was weak.

  Both men looked uncomfortable and she felt the ache to her gut and quickly she recovered from showing these two men how weak she felt.

  “Maybe you should just hose me down out back.”

  Grey smiled but Fisher let his eyes roam over her body before he replied. It gave her the chills and made her nipples harden. What the hell?

  “You’ll be fine with our help. Grey will get the tub started now. When we saw your injuries we grabbed some bath salts and things so you could just soak. That should be sufficient.”

  “But, how the heck are you supposed to…

  India cringed and immediately felt her heart racing. She went to shake her head and tightened up.

  “Don’t worry, we’re professionals,” he said and then stood up straighter.

  “The tub is filling up. I grabbed a robe and the extra-large towels,” Grey informed Fisher. She looked at both men. Grey, with his brown crew-cut hair, thick muscles, and hazel eyes. He looked kind of nervous right now. Then she glanced at Fisher. He was a tall man, at least six foot four, muscular with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and appeared very intense at the moment.

  He reached for the comforter and pulled it down and off of her.

  “Okay, this is how we’re going to do this. I want you to just let me carry you into the bathroom. I’ll hold up a towel so you can strip and if you can’t then Grey will help you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Darling, it’s got to happen.” She had never been so embarrassed in her entire life.

  “Fenton and Flynn know first aid and how to rewrap broken ribs. They’ll re-wrap them for you after the bath.”

  “Let’s go.”

  She was going to protest but as he lifted her up, feeling the pain but then smelling her stench she changed her mind. She felt sick and stupid. She had no choice. She had to suck up this embarrassment and let them help her. These men she didn’t know at all were about to see her naked, and covered in bruises and welts. Could this situation get any worse?

  Fisher set her feet down as Flynn tossed him the towel.

  She stood there, feeling helpless and incapable of the simple task of undressing. But she wouldn’t let these men she didn’t even know see her naked. It wasn’t right. Not that she was some virgin or anything, but she still was particular about the men who saw her naked. She had a small heart tattoo a little below her hip bone toward her groin that could only be seen if she were naked. It wasn’t even noticeable in a string bikini.

  “Okay, now take your time and if need be, I’ll help you,” Flynn told her.


  Fisher opened the towel, but despite how large it was, she felt like a huge blanket or comforter would give her more confidence to change behind.

  As she released an annoyed breath, she started with her lounge pants. The moment she lifted her arms slightly she felt the ache but it wasn’t terrible. Then she moved to push down her pants and gasped.

  “Slowly, India,” Fisher reprimanded.

  Flynn cleared his throat and she started with her top, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she fought to ask for any help. Then came the exhaustion. She would never make it into the damn tub if she didn’t get help.

  “India?” She heard Flynn’s voice and then felt him remove the shirt and lift her up.

  She gasped and held his gaze as he slowly set her into the tub.

  She was glad that it wasn’t very hot as she sunk down into the water, almost instantly feeling better. She moaned and hissed and made all sorts of noises.

  “Are you going to pass out?” Flynn asked her.

  Eyes closed, she leaned back against the back of the tub and instantly felt herself feeling better. But mostly she wanted that horrid stench to go away. How had they handled that? They had to be disgusted. Now she knew why they looked so angry and uncomfortable around her. She smelled badly.

  “Who cares if I do? I need this bath. I’ll be fine,” she told him.

  They didn’t move. They both just stood there. She wouldn’t open her eyes. She just lay there motionless hoping that the water would ease her pain enough that she could wash her hair.

  Then she jerked and popped her eyes open when she felt a hand touch her hair.

  She locked gazes with Flynn.

  “I’ll wash your hair. It will definitely make you feel better.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she replied.

  He didn’t smile, smirk, or show any emotion. He simply released a sigh and began to wash her hair. He was hard and quiet. But as he massaged his fingers through her hair and lathered up the shampoo, she felt amazing. The smell of the lovely fragrance seemed to wipe away the bad smells.

 

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