Sons of Justice 1: In Good Hands
Cherokee is in good hands under the protection of five very resourceful commanders. What she doesn't expect, and neither do they, is to fall in love, only for that love to be challenged by danger and their own insecurities. It's not easy to let down your guard and feel vulnerable. For soldiers as hardcore and experienced as these five men, it seems impossible, as if they aren't good enough for Cherokee. She needs to prove them wrong.
However, she has her insecurities, too. The men are much older, more experienced, and their military responsibilities come first and foremost. She's used to being the daughter of soldiers, but the lover of five? Could be a recipe for disaster or the perfect match. Especially as the attraction ignites and nothing else seems to matter but loving them.
When push comes to shove, and Cherokee is alone and in danger, all the training her fathers taught her, and the determination to get back to her men, pushes her through.
She will stop at nothing to see them all again, or die trying.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 47,488 words
SONS OF JUSTICE 1: IN GOOD
HANDS
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
SONS OF JUSTICE 1: IN GOOD HANDS
Copyright © 2017 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64010-471-6
First Publication: July 2017
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2017 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.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Sons of Justice-In Good Hands.
Cherokee’s story is quite special. A daughter of soldiers, a woman who has had to fight for her freedom, for her successes, and for the right men to love.
Being well trained by two Special Forces soldiers, Cherokee had a lot of experience and knowledge—and a strong personality. Her fears and what she runs from don’t hold her back from continuing a career she loves, accepting friendships from new people, and seeing how special of a town Repose is.
As this new series begins, so do the journeys of the member of Repose, friends, family, and acquaintances involved in a special operations program that will lead them into danger as well as on the path to finding love. May you enjoy their journeys.
Happy reading.
HUGS!
Dixie
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
People seem to be more interested in my name than where I get my ideas for my stories from. So I might as well share the story behind my name with all my readers.
My momma was born and raised in New Orleans. At the age of twenty, she met and fell in love with an Irishman named Patrick Riley Dwyer. Needless to say, the family was a bit taken aback by this as they hoped she would marry a family friend. It was a modern day arranged marriage kind of thing and my momma downright refused.
Being that my momma’s families were descendants of the original English speaking Southerners, they wanted the family blood line to stay pure. They were wealthy and my father’s family was poor.
Despite attempts by my grandpapa to make Patrick leave and destroy the love between them, my parents married. They recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.
I am one of six children born to Patrick and Lynn Dwyer. I am a combination of both Irish and a true Southern belle. With a name like Dixie Lynn Dwyer it’s no wonder why people are curious about my name.
Just as my parents had a love story of their own, I grew up intrigued by the lifestyles of others. My imagination as well as my need to stray from the straight and narrow made me into the woman I am today.
Enjoy In Good Hands and allow your imagination to soar freely.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
SONS OF JUSTICE 1: IN
GOOD HANDS
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
“It will be a cold day in hell before I let that woman get away with this. You mark my fucking words, Davie. I’ll find her, and when I do, I’m going to teach her about respect, about honoring a man’s authority in this world, and about obeying the rules of this town. If she thinks she can hide, she’s fucking mistaken. I’ll hunt her ’til the day I die,” Stan yelled.
Davie, his friend and business partner, narrowed his eyes and watched as Stan tried to adjust his position on the couch. He was lucky to be alive. Cherokee had nearly killed him. His buddy should be dead, but he wasn’t. Stanston, whom everyone called Stan for short, had been after the gorgeous young blonde for quite some time. Half the men in Sun Valley, Arkansas, were. She was a hot, sexy woman but also capable, strong, and on her own. No family, except two fathers that were overseas on missions or something. No one to take care of her, and she didn’t seem to need anyone either.
Davie sighed. His buddy Stan had tried breaking into Cherokee’s house one night to stake his claim. He was starting to let her know that she would belong to him, one of the rulers of Sun Valley, and that her fathers, soldiers on active duty, who hadn’t been around her in years, couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him. Stanston, Davie, and Frank ran this town. As the sheriff, Davie understood his position and had for years. This town ran differently, and the moment Cherokee Andrews was hired into the open teaching position at the elementary school, Stanston set his sights on her.
Cassidy, the previous teacher, had hightailed it out of town when one of the other leaders forced himself into her small cottage and staked his claim. Davie shook his head as he leaned his hand on the butt of his gun then scratched his forehead with his free hand, his eyes on Stan, the mayor of Sun Valley.
“Listen, Stan, I know you had your eyes set on her being your woman, but we don’t need any more trouble around here. It took a lot of pull and contacts to get those investigators off Ron’s ass when they came here investigating the assault on Cassidy. I don’t need more favors being used on this shit. Let it be. Move on. There are plenty of good-looking women around this town that would love to be your one and only.”
“Fuck that. I w
ant her. I will have her. You don’t get it, Davie. I’ve held her in my arms, cupped those luscious breasts, kissed those lips, and her purity, her taste, that fight in her did something to me. No other woman has affected me like this before.”
“You forcibly kissed her, cupped her breasts, and things got out of hand the moment you decided breaking into her house that night was a way to force her into submission.”
“I almost had her. Broke her fucking arm and cut her good. She shouldn’t have gotten away with the damage I did to her. The guys fucked up. They lost her, and who the fuck knows where she is now? We have to find her or, better yet, her fathers. We locate them, and we’ll find Cherokee.”
Davie shook his head and gave a low chuckle. “You’re out of your mind. You don’t want that kind of trouble. You remember what we found out? About their capabilities? About them being some super fucking soldiers?”
“We have our own super fucking soldiers. We have men across the land, in various states. We’ll find her, and she’ll be in my bed.”
“Tied down, because other than that, Stan, and she’ll succeed in cutting your throat or turning you into Swiss cheese. You’re lucky to be alive. That’s the kind of woman you want to be yours?”
“You saw that body. Those deep green eyes, how sweet, innocent she was. A fucking schoolteacher. So prim and proper and smiling all the time.”
“You underestimated her capabilities. She’s well trained, apparently in martial arts, and weapons.”
“I won’t underestimate her the next time. In fact, once we find her, I won’t grab her and take her alone. I’ve got men in mind. Just locate her, Davie. Use your resources and find my woman, or find her fathers. She’ll be back where she belongs. Here in Sun Valley and in my bed, pleasing me.”
Davie took a deep breath and sighed. “Rest up, Stan. It’s going to take months for you to heal up.”
“I’ll be ready. Just find her. Find my woman. Now send in Frank. There’s business to be done. This town needs some more people coming through and settling down here. We need to move with the construction of the strip mall and the new bar and dance hall. Finish up construction on the new homes, too.”
“It’s all working out. Almost all the lots are sold. It’s a beautiful extension of Sun Valley. In fact, I’m going to have to hire a few more deputies.”
“I’ve got some men in mind who could use the work and who can handle any given situation. They’ll be an asset to the town, and to you. They’re mean, they’re capable, and they take orders from me well. Keep me posted on updates.”
“Will do, boss. Now rest. It will all work out. You’ll see.”
Stan closed his eyes. That scar on his cheek went straight down his neck. It was a miracle that Cherokee hadn’t killed him. Even Davie was shocked at her capabilities and how she got out of town with her own injuries and the damage Stan had done to her face and her body. He didn’t know, but he had this uneasy feeling in his gut and wished Stan would just move on. That situation could have brought down their little empire. Maybe he wouldn’t try to find Cherokee and just pretend he couldn’t find her. It could work for a while, but how long he didn’t know. When Stan pushed and used his resources, his men, Cherokee wouldn’t stand a chance the second time around. No, she would submit, or die. It was that simple.
Chapter One
“Should we start to worry that she isn’t here yet?” John asked Spartan.
Spartan glanced at his watch. That firm, hard expression never changed. Not in the twenty years that John had known Spartan. They enlisted together, served together, and moved up the ranks together. Along the way, they brought in Nolan then Brye and Hans, the crazy Russian they worked with on an international smuggling operation they busted. They worked together many times and eventually offered Hans a position with them on their team. Ten years plus, a tight-knit team of not only best friends but brothers, all commanders of this elite organization they helped to create.
“Got no way of contacting her,” Spartan stated.
John looked toward the doorway and saw Hans there, arms crossed in front of his chest, long black hair tied back, and almost ducking just to stand in the doorway—he was so tall and large. They all were big men. All over six feet two and trained like well-oiled machines, not human men. The shit they saw and did was pure insanity.
“Well, if we’d gone to get her when she was injured, then it would be a different story now. She would be under our protection,” Hans said. His thick Russian accent was firm and commanding.
John raised one eyebrow up at him before looking at Spartan, their main leader of their team, as well as the commander of the entire operation here at the compound. The Sons of Justice was an elite organization consisting of mercenaries, trained trackers, killers, guides, and basically men with capabilities and resources no others had. There were over fifty of them living on the campsite and a few hundred more scattered around the area.
John recalled the picture they had of Cherokee with her fathers after her mother died. She was just a kid, but a beauty just like her mother, Marie. Cherokee’s eyes were even greener.
“Well, that wasn’t how she wanted it to go down. You know what I told you. She sounded like she didn’t even want our help. Like she was trying to do it all herself. I was lucky to get out of her that she was recovering in a hospital in Louisiana,” Spartan stated.
“We could have found her, and that hospital in a snap,” Hans replied, giving Spartan that look like he had been easy on Cherokee instead of stepping right in to get to her and protect her.
“It sounded like she had it under control. She said she needed to wait to get the cast off her arm. Listen, she didn’t even want to come here, but something told me that things were bad and she was scared. We all know Field and Harrow. They trained her well, but she’s their daughter and needs them. God only knows where they are, and until they show up, we’ll help secure the situation and get down to the bottom of it. She’ll tell us everything, and we’ll handle it.”
John looked at the clock.
“She’s late.” He could tell that Spartan was concerned and Hans, too. She was a woman traveling alone, on the run from some kind of danger they didn’t know the details about, and she was heading here. All because her dads told her if she were ever in serious trouble and they couldn’t be found to call Spartan and to trust him. He hoped they could do just that.
* * * *
Cherokee had been driving for quite some time. It was a beautiful, sunny day when she came across a sign about a summer festival. On the sign it indicated that today was the last day. She needed to eat, but she didn’t want to stop. It was too risky. People could ask her questions, and she was so damn tired she could hardly think straight. She decided to push on but took in her surroundings along the way. She was hungry, and the town called Repose was located only about ten miles from Spartan and John’s property if her navigation was correct. She had spoken to both men, friends of her fathers, once she was in a safe location after the attack. She shivered at the memory of it. It had only been six weeks ago, and her side still ached from the stitches, but her arm was finally free of the cast and the bruising along her body was lighter each day. She was lucky to be alive and to have gotten away. Her arm was a bit achy but the cast long gone, bones healed and all the bruising on her body healed, too.
As she entered the main entrance to Repose, she couldn’t help but smile. It looked like something out of a movie. A beautiful set of wrought-iron gates on either side of the large road with a burgundy sign that said, “Welcome to Repose, Texas.” It was all decorated with gorgeous landscaping and flowers galore. There was a very large building that looked like an old gas station called the Filling Station. What a cool name and it looked like a fun place. She could see all the people gathering around on a side deck plus a full parking lot, too. Must be the hot spot of town, she thought as she continued driving through.
There were street vendors for the festival and a large gazebo in the center of
town with storefronts on both sides of the streets, but no parking in front of them today. Instead, a police officer, a pretty good-looking one, directed traffic, smiled at her, and waved for her to continue along the back part of the building to the parking area or to go around and through the town.
She was mesmerized by the beauty, and then she noticed something different. As she waited in traffic behind people wanting to park, she saw the couples. Except they weren’t one man and one woman. There were multiple men with one woman, or at least it appeared that way. It had to be. She wasn’t seeing things. It was like the town she grew up in. There were ménage relationships. Holy shit. She swallowed hard and continued to drive along until she was able to get around the traffic and the people trying to park.
For some strange reason, knowing that ménage relationships ran rampant in Repose brought her a feeling of encouragement. Her fathers had married her mom, and they had Cherokee. There were plenty of similar relationships around their town, but when Mamma died, her fathers had been young, and she had been young. But they couldn’t love another woman like they’d loved their wife, so they remained single. Once she finished college and was independent, and well trained by them, she encouraged them to move on and to do things they loved. It was at that time a job came in for the military, and off they went.
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. She didn’t know if they were dead or alive. No one was able to find them or contact them. Not even Spartan and John who ran some sort of training facility and special security operations business for private and public clients. All she knew was that they had their own set of houses and campgrounds, a gun range near Lake Freeman, and all the capabilities to train anyone in the military like mercenaries, special operations, or whatever. Her fathers, Field and Harrow, had left her Spartan’s and John’s contact information if she were ever in trouble or in serious danger. She never thought she would need to call them. She could have died, and she didn’t call them until a couple of weeks ago when she got out of the secret medical facility run by another contact of her father’s, Tonic, in Louisiana and had her cast removed from her broken arm.
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