Sons of Justice 11_If Love Was Real

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  * * * *

  “What the fuck do you mean there’s a situation?” Flame demanded to know as they got off the military plane and Spartan, Hans, and Cesar were waiting for them.

  “We’ll explain on the way. It’s good to have you all back in one piece, and a successful mission,” Spartan said as he shook each of their hands.

  Flame looked at his men. They wanted showers and to see Marianna as soon as possible. They each texted her to say they landed and were back, and got no response. Now this? Something was up.

  Spartan began to explain the situation, and with every detail Flame and his team grew angrier and angrier. “So we go there and take her the fuck out,” Slova said.

  “You can’t. First of all, she isn’t saying she doesn’t want to be there,” Cesar said.

  “If this mother fucker is drugging her, then how could she?” Cast asked.

  “We can’t get near her, so what we did was we got together with a bunch of other men, your friends in SOJ and Cesar’s friends and started digging. Cesar got a hold of her brother Samson, and that’s how the shit got started.”

  Spartan explained all about Marianna searching for her brother in the middle of the night and meeting this guy Press Summons. They discussed her singing at Dom’s, a club in Ausberry, and how that guy was tight-lipped, too. With every detail about the dead kids who ripped off artwork and stole money, and how Marianna’s brother was involved, and it seemed like she was trying to pay off a debt her brother owed.

  “Cesar spoke to Samson. He got through to the kid and made him realize that we were all here to help Marianna, and that Press was drugging her. He told Cesar that Press threatened to kill Samson, her mom and aunt, and anyone close to her if she left him. He insisted that they would all die, even though the paintings were returned as well as the money,” Spartan told them.

  “Press has become obsessed with her, and from what the guys, what Stack, Panther, Basile, and Tat found out, is that this guy may have taken the lives of other women he dated, or obsessed over. They aren’t sure, and the disappearances of three women are cold cases, never solved,” Cesar added.

  “Fuck, he is going to kill her. Rape her if he hasn’t already,” Slova raised his voice and ran his hand over his beard.

  “I’ll kill him. Why not just fucking go to that house and kill him?” Cast said.

  “Because they aren’t there,” Spartan said.

  “What do you mean?” Flame asked.

  “He means they disappeared, in the middle of the night, two days ago,” Spartan told them.

  Flame raged. “We never should have fucking left her. Never!” Yani yelled out.

  “She deserved better, and we failed her like every other fucking person in her life. She probably felt so alone, and was forced into this situation,” Slova said.

  “Or coerced by this guy Press, who targeted her because of what she was going through and because of Samson,” Spartan said.

  “We need to find her,” Flame stated.

  “We’re working on it. Her brother thinks that Dom may know more then he’s letting on,” Cesar said.

  “Then let’s go see fucking Dom,” Yani said to them.

  “Like this? All in your military gear?” Tat asked.

  “If he knows something, he’ll fucking talk. That I guarantee,” Flame said, and then looked out the window.

  Twenty minutes later, Flame had Dom by his throat and up against the wall. “She’s our woman. We were on a mission, protecting this country from terrorist fucking assholes, not pussy thugs like you and this fucking Press guy. Now tell me where he took her. I know you know where, and we know about his past with women and them disappearing.”

  “I like Marianna. I didn’t agree to his choice this time. To pursuing her, but he became obsessed with her. He knew about you guys, and he started working on breaking her down,” Dom said as he begged to be let go. He promised to talk, so Flame lowered him to his feet. He cleared his throat.

  “They aren’t far. He had me secure a private estate on a lake in Grapevine. I have the address. He also hired extra security, too,” Dom said, and they got what they needed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marianna could hardly walk. When she got to the bathroom earlier and looked into the mirror, she could hardly see straight. She gripped the sink, and her body swayed. She wore a skirt and nearly fell over getting it on, had trouble clasping her bra closed, and she fumbled with the buttons to the blouse she wore.

  “Press! Press!” she called out, holding onto the sink, her breasts pouring from the bra, the blouse wide open.

  “What do you need, baby girl?” he asked, standing in the doorway, white button-down shirt undone and wearing black dress pants.

  She tried buttoning the top and teetered, as if she were drunk. “I can’t do it, Press. Help me, Press. Help me, please,” she said to him.

  He smiled softly at her, appearing so nice, and caring, but then he gripped her arm and yanked her around.

  “God damn it. You need me to do everything for you.”

  She couldn’t focus on his face or how he lowered down and then stared at her breasts. He slid his palms up her ribs to cup them. She tried pushing him away and teetered back against the sink. He smacked her hands. Hard. She gasped, and then he yanked off the blouse, pressed her up against the sink and sunk his mouth and teeth into her neck. He started sucking and kissing on her skin as he used his chin to push down the straps and release a breast. As his mouth landed on her nipple, she shoved him hard in the shoulder.

  “I’m not your whore!” She screamed.

  He backhanded her across the mouth, and she fell right over and landed on the floor. Her palms landed on the cool tile flooring and she could hear him cursing.

  “No, not again. Not like this. All this time. All the plans, the preparations.” He carried on and she didn’t know why and over what, but then felt him yank her up to stand, she teetered, her mouth and cheek ached terribly.

  “You did this. You caused me to strike you, Marianna, and there will be punishments.” He pulled her from the bathroom, she was tripping over her own feet, and anger began to pool in her belly. She yanked free from his hold and spun on her feet. He reached for her and she swung her fist right at his face, decking him. She twirled in a circle, just swinging, striking him as he came at her.

  “Mexa!” he roared, and got down low to tackle her down. As her back hit the corner of the dresser, she felt the burning pain and fisted her hands together and banged on him repeatedly as he did the same to her, trying to stop her from hitting him. Her shoulder and back kept hitting the dresser as she screamed and cried out.

  The door burst open as Press rolled her to her back and he went to grab her arms and she slammed her palm up against his jaw, barely hitting him. She felt the strikes to her face, and then Mexa grabbed her arm.

  “The needle!” Press yelled.

  She struggled to get free. “I’m not your whore. I won’t be your whore. You promised me, Press. You promised me. You’re like all men, liars. Liars!” She screamed and felt as if she was losing her mind when something shark pressed into her arm.

  “You will obey me. You will let me touch you. I own you, Marianna. They are not coming back. They are gone because they used you,” he said to her, and she felt her body begin to float, and then she felt nothing at all. No emotions, no pain. She stared up at Mexa and Press, both men stared right back as they caressed her hair from her cheeks. He lifted her up in his arms and placed her on the bed, then lay beside her. Press stroked her hair, she felt ice against her mouth, and just stared at his dark eyes, unable to think at all.

  “I’m the only man you can trust ever again. I will not leave you, Marianna. I will not abandon you like they did,” he said, and caressed her cheeks.

  He stared at her.

  “Who do you belong to? Who will you never leave?” he asked.

  “Press,” she whispered, and he smiled softly as he pressed kisses to her skin, until she fel
t and saw nothing at all.

  * * * *

  “What are you going to do, Press?” Mexa asked him. He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s losing her mind. Whatever shit that crazy fucking guy gave you as samples is messing with her head. He didn’t say anything about violent side effects. About hallucinations.”

  “She’ll be fine. The needle worked better than the powder.”

  “Maybe it’s too much. You’ve been drugging her drinks since day one. Her speech is constantly slurred, she’s all battered and bruised up,” Mexa said.

  “It’s not addicting. It’s temporary until I can be sure she’s bound to me.”

  “Fuck her and she’ll be bound to you.”

  “Not necessarily. She still speaks of the men in her sleep at night. She says their fucking names. Calls out to them to help her.”

  “Are you shooting her up at night, too?” Mexa asked.

  “Just last night, that’s probably why she was violent today, combative. I need to stick to the plan. How is everything else going? What are the inside people saying about her friends looking for her, and that sheriff and soldier guy?”

  “They’re still looking. Nothing more since yesterday in regards to those murder cases and the evidence found. I doubt we’ll get linked to them, besides they’ll never find those bodies. Unless Janson starts talking. They won’t have shit.”

  “When she wakes up, I want to bring her outside. Maybe onto the screened in porch if not the patio.”

  “What if she loses her shit again and decides to take off running?”

  “She won’t, and we have men out there watching over the place. I have to make it all seem normal.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this, Press. Any other women, the other four, you were screwing within the first forty-eight hours of meeting them.”

  “She’s different. You know that. I can have it all with Marianna. Every fantasy, every sexual game, can be at my fingertips. She’ll learn all of it. How to be at my beck and call, how to pleasure me whenever I want, and how to handle pain, inflicted by me, and only me. She’ll get used to my touch. I’ve already started.” He heard her call his name and he walked back into the bedroom. She was trying to sit up.

  “Ouch, why do I hurt?”

  “Easy, baby, you had a fall. You don’t remember?” he asked, and glanced at Mexa, who looked shocked.

  “No. I’m thirsty and hungry though. I didn’t miss lunch again, did I?” she asked and snuggled up closer to him. She climbed right up onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, baby girl, you didn’t miss lunch. We can go make something now and eat outside.”

  She sat up. Ran her palm along her belly and to her breasts, then covered herself as she looked at Mexa, and then used Press to shield her body from him.

  “I need a top. Mexa can see,” she said to him. He caressed her arm and back.

  “He won’t ever hurt you, Marianna. He’s my guard, and yours, too. Come on. We’ll grab a blouse.” He stood up, set her feet down and then helped her put a blouse on. She remained against his side, kissing his neck. Everything was going to work out just fine.

  * * * *

  “Make sure the local cops hang back and let us handle this. They should realize by now that this fucking guy and his guards are killers. It’s a life or death situation,” Flame said to Spartan and Cesar.

  “They know to stay back. We’ve gathered enough surveillance video on the situation to see what we’re dealing with. Janson and Dom were a huge help, never mind her boss Truman, and that guy Vic,” Spartan stated.

  “Yeah well, I’m not thanking any of them. They wanted Marianna, too. They could have prevented this weeks ago, instead they didn’t do shit,” Flame said.

  “Are we fucking ready or not?” Slova asked.

  “Try not to kill all of them,” Cesar said.

  “Fuck that. They all deserve to die for being part of this, and the murders of those four other women. Still don’t know how that evidence wound up in our hands,” Cast said.

  “Someone was waiting for the opportunity to bring Press and his crew down,” Yani said.

  “Well they did, and if he gives up without a fight, he’ll be spending the rest of his life behind bars. Now let’s do this our way. The SOJ way,” Flame said, then looked at their friends, all men they trusted. Basile, Tat, and Spadaro, Romano, Greco, J.T. and Farrow, Spartan, Cesar, Mink, Steve, and Panther, Finlin, and Stack.

  They carefully, quietly moved into position. The first team of men took out the guards farthest from the house. In a meticulous operation, they disarmed and debilitated all the guards that remained on the outside of the house, and they were now moving into the inside. Flame was on a mission to save their woman, to rescue Marianna from a living nightmare. They saw her several times today, having to lean against Press, unable to walk alone, and also looking battered. He wanted to tear Press’s arms from his body for touching her, caressing her ass, and cupping her breasts. He saw red and so did his men and their friends. This could be any of their women in here. Any one could have gotten caught up in this, drugged up to remain unclear as to what was happening. The man was going to suffer.

  They moved swiftly, and were nearly to the stairs when shots were fired, and Cast cursed out and retaliated. Bullets whizzed by their bodies and heads, and then more counterfire followed theirs.

  “I’m hit,” Cast said, and mumbled in his mouthpiece.

  “How fucking bad?” Flame asked.

  “Flesh wound, keep fucking moving, they’re all dying here now,” he said, and they did just that, with Romano, Finlin, and Stack right behind them.

  The element of surprise was over, and as they hesitated to round the corner, machine gun fire began to spatter right next to them and they ducked for cover. Slova rolled into the hallway, firing his gun and taking out the guy with the machine gun. More shots rang out and they countered, their senses, their quick, sharp reflexes had recently been tested multiple times in the jungles of Nigeria only two weeks ago.

  They started kicking in doors, could hear more gunfire outside and then downstairs. There were more men than expected, and Flame was grateful to have brought so many of their friends and fellow soldiers.

  As they all came down the hallway to the last bedroom, they heard the screams and then shots were fired. Flame took a bullet to his vest, and fired back killing Mexa. More men came from the room, including Press. Flame and his team, Spartan and Cesar, too, shot them all, firing back and watched them fall one after the next. Flame was trying to get over the pain of the bullet to his bulletproof vest, and he, Yani, Slova, and Cast, whose arm was bleeding to his fingers, couldn’t find Marianna. They separated, looking in the bathroom, the closet, and then Spartan called to them.

  He pointed to the side of the bed, underneath it. They got over there quickly, all they could see was the brown locks of hair. “Marianna? Marianna, baby, come on out. It’s okay now. It’s over,” Slova whispered to her and reached out to touch her. She pulled back. “Press. Where’s Press? Only Press,” she said.

  “He’s gone, baby, you belong with us. We’re taking you home. To Samson, to your mom, your aunt, and all your friends. You remember them, right? Lauren, Tiana, Avana, Talia? They’re all waiting to see you.”

  She blinked her eyes open. Slova got down onto the rug. Flame lowered down as did Cast and Yani.

  “Come to us. You know deep down who we are. It’s over, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re free,” Slova whispered.

  “Free.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she lifted up, was only wearing a bra and panties. She was battered, bruised all over her shoulders, her back, her lips and cheek.

  Slova pulled her to him to sit on his lap. Yani cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. “You’re not real. You’re not here,” she whispered as tears flowed.

  “We are real. We are here, and we’re never going to leave you again,” Yani said.


  Flame stared in anger, in frustration and disgust, blaming himself for this happening to Marianna, and for leaving her unguarded, unprotected and unloved. She may never be the same again after this, and if she didn’t heal, it would be his fault, too. They would make it up to her. They weren’t ever leaving Marianna’s side. Not for a mission, not for anything ever again.

  Epilogue

  Marianna awoke, gasping for breath, then grabbing onto the thick, hard body in front of her. Large, warm, familiar hands slid up over her hips to her belly, and then she heard Cast’s voice, then his lips against her bare shoulder.

  “Easy baby, you’re safe, we’re here to protect you, it’s real,” he said.

  It was what they each told her every night, sometimes several times a night. She hugged Flame’s back and pressed her lips to his shoulders. The first several weeks were rough, once the drugs were out of her system, her memory improved, her instincts and sharpness of her mind did, too.

  “You’re getting better, Marianna,” Yani said from the recliner at the end of the bed.

  “She sure is. It’s already five a.m.,” Slovan added, and then yawned.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, and then snuggled up closer between Cast and Flame.

  She thought about what happened to her. How she nearly was raped and killed by Press, and all he had done to mess with her head, and with her body. She was still trying to get over it all, and so many things scared her, but she had her men. Her lovers, her everything, and they were doing their own kind of healing, as well. Learning to trust her, to love her fully, to express their emotions and not think it silly to show such vulnerability.

  Their sacrifices they made, their fight to get to her, to save her from Press, and all the things they did to help her family, and to help her was commendable, but also real. Everything they felt for one another was so powerful, so strong, that it was breaking through her fears, and destroying the nightmare she sustained. She may not have known what true love really was, but she was pretty sure she had that with Flame, Slova, Yani, and Cast.