She was crying, shaking, and running through the woods now with one boot on her foot and a sock on the other. Things were digging into her foot, her skin, and the cold night air smacked against her body, her ripped blouse exposing more skin to the elements. She paused only a few seconds to rip her shirt the rest of the way off and to tie a tourniquet above the wound. She cursed in pain. The bullet was in her arm. She’d gotten shot. Holy shit, she was shot.
She pushed off the tree, hoisted the backpack onto her shoulder, and started running again until she couldn’t breathe and thought she’d put a distance between them that was good enough for her to see what was in this backpack. As she sank down against another tree, she caught her breath and looked in the back. She used the flashlight, being sure to keep the light in the bag and not give away her location. She grabbed the bottle of unopened water and took a sip. She would need to conserve this unless she found a fresh stream or something along the way. She felt sick a moment. There were condoms, lube, a very large thick dildo, handcuffs, and an assortment of other shit the sick bastards had probably planned on using on her. She hoped they died from their wounds. She should have remained there and used all the bullets in the gun. She felt disgusted.
She threw the stuff onto the ground then found a lighter, some weed, drugs in a bag, syringes. Absolutely nothing for her to use. She unzipped the side pockets and found a small pack of Band-Aids, no use to her with a bullet in her arm. She felt the tears falling and the ache grew deeper. A candy bar, gum, extra bullets, cash.
She took out the shit she didn’t need and then replaced the backpack into position. She listened before she moved. She heard something—she wasn’t sure what—and her heart began to race again. She had to keep moving. If she went deeper into the woods and then made her way lower toward the road they started out at, perhaps she could coast the border of the road and woods until she found help. She couldn’t trust anyone though. How close were they to Sun Valley? She didn’t know.
* * * *
“The dogs. Get the fucking hunting dogs here quickly, and Ron and I need medical help. She fucking shot us. The bitch shot us,” Stanston said into the radio, thinking he was talking to Davie and everything was under control in town.
“I can’t get dogs up there. Where did she run to? She can’t go far,” Davie said with Spartan and the team’s direction.
“The ridge. It’s miles and miles of woods. She’ll run out of steam. Ron shot her, and she has to be bleeding. She hasn’t eaten or drank in four days to keep her weak on purpose. The bitch is going to get it good when we find her. Get the dogs to the cabin now. I want her found.” he roared, and Davie ended the radio contact.
“They shot her. She could bleed out depending on where. Fuck, she must be so scared,” Nolan said.
“We’ve got plenty of men to help. Let’s get helicopters out there overhead. It’s pitch-black in those woods. We’ll need dogs to track her anyway,” John said to them.
“Let’s move as soon as we can, or she’ll die out there,” Brye said to them.
Thirty minutes later they were all at the cabin, surrounding the area and storming into the place. Nolan took sight of the scene around them and found Ron shot twice in the chest and shoulder and lying on the couch. He lifted his gun to shoot, but Nolan shot him, and Stanston pulled one, too, but Spartan shot him. Stanston was dead on the floor.
“Good riddance, you fuck,” John stated.
All the men gathered around outside of the cabin. It was three a.m., dark and pitch-black out there in the woods, and Nolan felt sick. Cherokee was probably so damn scared and just running for her life. There was no way to let her know that it was over and she was safe to come out.
“We’re going to have to go in there with the dogs and track her,” Spartan said to all of them, and the other men gathered around.
“We know our daughter and taught her well. She’ll keep moving until she finds safety. She hears the dogs she’ll think Stanston sent them and she’ll cover her tracks and her scent, run farther,” Harrow said.
“We wait until morning, and there’s no telling how bad of a shape she’ll be in. We don’t know where she was shot,” Brye said.
“Fuck, we need the dogs to track her fast. We’re all in good shape, no gunshots or injuries, so we could catch up with her in no time at all. We’ll call out as we go so she knows it’s us,” Hans said to them.
“Okay, let’s move.”
* * * *
She slowed down and sat by the hill before the flowing water. She lost her footing, felt lightheaded, was sweating profusely and yet cold at the same time. It was frigid out, and the sound of dogs barking woke her from exhaustion. He sent dogs. Stanston has dogs looking for me besides helicopters.
She heard the rotors above a while ago, and bright light illuminated the forest as if searching for her, and she hid well. Underbrush, behind thick trees. Like her fathers taught her, she covered herself with mud. It would keep in her body heat as well as provide camouflage for anyone searching for her. She would blend in under the bushes and in the trees and even hide her scent from the dogs.
The sound of the rotors and the dogs barking was getting closer. The sun was beginning to come up, and soon it would be more difficult to hide. She slid down closer to the water, hoping they would lose her tracks. Her arm was limp. She was unable to move it any more. She’d lost too much blood. She was going to die out here. She slid down under another bush, pushing mud along her skin and trying not to move. She was shaking, her body finally giving out. She begged for strength to remain. She didn’t want to die. She wouldn’t let Stanston find her. She reached into the bag for the gun. She held it close. She would rather die than go with them and be raped and tortured. She was shaking and moaning. The sounds of the dogs intensified. They’d caught her scent. They’d found her.
“Cherokee! Cherokee, it’s us. It’s Spartan!”
She heard his voice. She didn’t know if it was real or not as they got closer, and through blurred, pained vision, she saw them coming over the hill. Was she imagining it? Was she hallucinating seeing her men, other soldiers and police, and oh God, her fathers? She sobbed, and she feared they might pass her and she turned the gun toward the water and shot it twice then dropped it from her hands and lay on the ground.
“Cherokee. Oh God, baby,” Spartan said to her, and the others were on their knees talking to her, giving orders.
“How bad is it?” Brye asked.
“Bad. The bullet is sitting in there. She lost a lot of blood,” Nolan said.
“Fuck, how are we getting her out of here quickly? She needs medical attention immediately,” Hans asked.
“We can have the helicopter land in a clearing down the hill a mile,” Jaguar said to them.
She heard them talking and then saw her fathers. “Daddy. Father.”
“You’re safe now, angel. We’re taking you home.”
She gripped onto Spartan as she was lifted and John placed blankets over her. She cringed from all the pain.
“She’s a bloody mess, covered with cuts and bruises,” Nolan said and caressed her hair.
Her father Harrow cupped her cheek and held her gaze as Spartan held her in his arms.
“Rest easy, soldier. You’re in good hands. It’s time to go home,” he said to her, and she exhaled, closed her eyes, and allowed her men and her dads to take her to safety.
Epilogue
“You’re both hurt. Oh God, how badly?” Cherokee asked her dads as they walked into the hospital room.
Brye was amazed by her selflessness, her concern over all of them and her dads, instead of herself. She’d been shot for crying out loud, forced to run for her life through the woods in darkness, all alone where she could have died. Brye was fuming mad still and so overly protective of her he couldn’t think straight.
Harrow and Field stepped to the side of the hospital bed. Harrow stroked her cheek, and Field caressed the hand of her bandaged arm.
“We are fine a
nd will recover quickly. Just like you will, too, and then we’ll spend some quality time together before we move on.”
“Move on? No, where are you going? Aren’t you staying here in Repose with me?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.
Field stroked her cheek.
“Baby girl, you have your men to take care of you now,” Harrow said to her.
“I want you both here. I don’t want you leaving for some other mission,” she said in anger.
“We aren’t going on another mission. We’ll be back as soon as we can and look for a place to stay. We have to get debriefed and close up the case we were working on then tie up loose ends. We’ll be back.”
“You can stay with me at my place,” she said to them.
Field smiled. “Honey, not for nothing, but it’s hard enough giving away our baby girl to someone she loves. It’s even harder when there are five of them and we know them so well. We definitely don’t want to be sitting around the house while you six lovebirds celebrate life and getting through all this. We’ll be back to look for a place.” Harrow leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“We offered them positions in the organization. They have some things to think about,” Spartan said, and Brye smirked.
Spartan and the others had come up with great positions for Cherokee’s fathers, and they hoped they took them up on it.
The dads said good-bye and then headed out. Brye walked closer to the bed and caressed her good cheek. He hated seeing all the bruises. His brothers did too.
“They’ll heal up quickly,” he said to her.
“I know they will. When can I leave here?” she asked.
“Tomorrow, maybe. Not too soon,” John commanded with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I want to be home in bed with the five of you. I can’t sleep here. I’m scared.” She smirked.
Brye leaned down and kissed her lips. When he released them, he whispered into her ear. “You are in for a whole lot of lovemaking, baby. You scared us, and it’s going to take many, many times of making love to ease our minds.”
She blushed. “I want that, too.”
“You aren’t even taking orders well or taking the pain meds like the doctor suggested,” Spartan reprimanded.
“Yeah, she has several ass spankings coming her way, I think.” Hans winked.
“I’m in on that. She scared the hell out of me. I think she’s going to have a very sore ass,” Nolan stated.
“Well, you can’t do that if I’m stuck in here. Use some of that pull you’ve got, Commander. Spring me free. Get me out of here,” she said to Spartan.
They shook their heads, and Brye held in the chuckle.
“Not happening,” Hans stated firmly, and she pouted.
Brye stroked her jaw, and she looked at the others. “I love you guys so much. I just want you near me always. That’s all.”
“We love you, too, but your safety and good health are top priorities right now, and you aren’t leaving until the doctor gives the okay,” Spartan commanded.
She huffed but then cringed from the ache, killing her argument about springing free.
Hans moved to the side of the bed and held her gaze. He stroked her jaw and gave her a wink as he spoke in Russian. “Ya lyublya tyeby. We all do,” he added in English, telling her that he loved her.
“As I love the five of you, but you talking in Russian only turns me on even more, Hans. I feel so needy, and it isn’t fair that I’m stuck here,” she complained.
“Spartan, the door,” Hans said and then looked at Brye. “Our woman needs a little treatment.”
Brye licked his lips. They slowly pulled down the bed covers and gently spread her thighs.
“Oh God, seriously, right here?” she asked.
Brye reached under and stroked her cunt.
“Get ready, baby, and don’t be loud. You’re going to get some really good medicine to help you relax,” Brye said and then leaned over the bed as Hans gently lifted her thighs and Brye began to lick and stroke her pussy.
“Oh. My God. Yes. Yes. Finally,” she exclaimed, shocking them, and Brye chuckled, his warm breath against her pussy, and he knew in that moment that no day was ever going to be boring or typical with Cherokee in their lives and in their beds.
Their family was complete, and she would forever be in good hands with her five Sons of Justice.
THE END
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Sons of Justice 1: In Good Hands (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 15