Sons of Justice 8: Lust to Love (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “They don’t know. No one does except Fernando, and that prick isn’t talking, I’m sure,” Luke said to them.

  “Oh, he’s talking. He’s making up lies to give whoever took Brazille some time to get her to wherever they are taking her,” Luke said, and they told him about the accusations of SOJ.

  “Assholes.”

  “Hey!” Cole called to them as he held the phone to his ear.

  “Falzone, Vella, and some of the Texas Rangers Spartan knows headed to Otis Ressling’s place, and Chanelle is there. Her face is a bit battered, and not saying a word. They’re trying to get warrants to search the house, and Falzone got some information from the gardener. The gardener said that security was loading suitcases into the SUV, and that this guy Mitchie, was riding along, and usually when he was with Mr. Ressling that meant that they were flying somewhere.”

  “Okay, airports, private ones more than likely. Have Rossi get on that. Tell Falzone to call Spartan and get a move on a warrant to search Ressling’s home. Maybe they’ll find evidence that he’s involved with this prostitution ring,” J.T. said aloud to them.

  “We have to get to her before he leaves the country. On a private jet, he can get lost in the skies and land wherever the fuck he wants. Holy shit J.T., they took our woman. Brazille is in danger and we have to do whatever is necessary to get to her,” Luke said.

  “We will. Let’s get in touch with her bosses, then talk to Pallen that asshole, and even Chanelle. She was shacked up with Ressling. Why the hell didn’t he bring his whore with him?” J.T. said.

  “I was wondering the same thing. The only way to find out is to go there and ask her,” Farrow said.

  J.T. nodded. “Let’s move. If we wait around for these assholes, nothing will get done and Brazille could wind up dead,” J.T. said, and they headed out of there.

  * * * *

  “What the hell is going on? Brazille disappeared and her boyfriends’ friends are downstairs looking to ring our necks, Carlotta,” Michelangelo asked him.

  “What do you mean missing?” Carlotta asked.

  “He means someone abducted her, and some feds are on their way here, other cops to question us to see if we know who took her and why. What do you know?” Lambert asked him.

  “I don’t know anything.

  “Bullshit you don’t. You always know what’s going on around town, and what’s the hot scene, the illegal shit. This is Brazille, Carlotta. She’s family,” Lancaster added, and Carmine mumbled in agreement

  “I don’t know, Lancaster. I don’t. We had that meeting with Fedarro the other day.”

  “Fedarro is involved. We heard he was part of running some illegal prostitution ring,” Carmine added to the conversation. “I just got off the phone with the guys at Fernando’s club. They’re saying the place is swarming with federal agents and cops, that more agents and police are at Ottis Ressling’s residence and trying to get a search warrant,” Lambert stated.

  The door burst open and then all turned to see four large men enter with guns drawn.

  “Okay, assholes, where the fuck is Brazille?” one of them asked, guns pointed like pros.

  These were military men. These were Brazille’s boyfriends. Michelangelo knew it.

  “We don’t know. We were just going over what we found out. That feds are trying to get warrants for Ottis Ressling’s home,” he told them.

  “Tell us what you know. You especially, considering that you were with her when she had a meeting with Fernando, and also at Benzingers that night when she met Ressling,” the one big guy with the beard asked Carlotta.

  Michelangelo spoke up. “First, there’s no need to have guns drawn on us. We’re pretty fucking upset about this, too, and want Brazille back safe and sound. We’ll offer any help we can provide, and I mean anything. She’s family.”

  “Well if she’s family, then how come you didn’t protect her from Fernando when you know damn well he’s a lying sack of shit involved with illegal stuff, including an underground prostitution ring?” the guy with the beard asked.

  “We had no idea. We don’t involve ourselves with underground businesses or illegal ones. Let’s make introductions first, and then pull together on this. If anyone tries to hurt her, we’ll kill them,” Michelangelo stated.

  “There’s a line,” one of the men stated, and he looked like a killer.

  Michelangelo made the introductions, and the men said who they were. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to realize these were hardcore killers, and they were pissed that someone abducted their woman.

  Then they got a call stating that Fernando was helping to run this prostitution ring, and that there was going to be an event next Friday. It was like a private orgy, and only a certain number of men were allowed entry, and people were fighting over tickets and wanting in on the event.

  “That’s sick,” Cole stated.

  “Oh fuck, it has to be Ressling that took Brazille. Especially if what you say is true and Chanelle is at his house. Chanelle fucks for money. Always has done that, and the other night it was strange but she was with Ressling and that guy Turner. I heard Pallen mention that he sold her to Fernando, and then Fernando was drinking and he said she was a good lay, and talked about training her. They mentioned this event and how some women are chosen by the coordinator, and the sexiest, most beautiful woman is set on display in the center for men to look at, to basically view, and then do whatever. Six women present, and there are over fifty men in a private club. So it has to be Ressling. He has several of those clubs and no one, I mean no one, can get in. Ressling showed interest in Brazille, and then I saw Pallen and him talking to her and she looked annoyed.”

  “If he left the country, where would he have taken Brazille?” Cole asked.

  “Not sure, but someone to ask would be his brother, Vincenzo. He likes Brazille a lot, and she was working with him to plan an event in a few weeks,” Carlotta told them.

  “Get him on the phone,” Luke stated, and Lancaster pulled out his cellphone as soon as he spoke, he told Castreone who was on the line.

  Then J.T.’s cellphone rang and he answered it.

  * * * *

  “Yeah what do you have?” he asked Spartan.

  “Sick fucking information. Jesus, it’s bad J.T. These guys, all of them starting with Turner down to Ressling are sick. They basically have been running a small prostitution ring. These young women are hired out to perform sexual fantasies in private men only clubs. After the women are basically used over and over again, they’re shipped off to Turkey.”

  “Turkey?”

  “Yeah, the only reason we know that is because Turner kept logs and documents, plus a shit load of documented evidence on all involved with this illegal prostitution business, up and including some brass in exporting on multiple bases that ship overseas. That’s how they get the used women out of here. Then they’re sold in Turkey. They’ve been running this for two years.”

  “Holy shit, so now the feds will be off our asses, but still no way of finding where they took Brazille.”

  “Well, supposedly Ressling, has a connection in Turkey. Cashmere is the guy’s name, or at least that is what we think because he’s the listed contact for the shipments,” Spartan told him.

  “Hold up a minute.”

  “Hey, Michelangelo, does Fernando know who a Cashmere is?” J.T. asked him, and he asked Vincenzo, Fernando’s brother. They heard the man on speaker cursing. Then he was giving information.

  “Spartan, we may need a plane and some intel. Ressling could have taken her to Turkey or Cyprus. Fernando’s brother said there are several locations that Cashmere works from, and that Ressling has secret retreats.”

  “Get us what you can, and we’ll have to get some local contacts there and see what we can confirm for you as far as sightings. You should know, too, J.T., there was a file on Brazille. Turner had pictures of her, and a list of names with numbers after them, and the date of the event at Ressling’s club. It appears that maybe
it wasn’t her cousin who was going to be center stage as the star attraction, but Brazille,” Spartan told him.

  J.T. clenched his teeth.

  “I know. I’ll get whatever you need. I’m going to see what locals we have in Turkey and or Cyprus. I’ll call you shortly. We’ll have your gear and a team of men to assist you.”

  J.T. looked at his brothers. He explained what they knew and now her bosses were all irate, and even Vincenzo Castrione who was on speaker stated his anger. “Whatever you need I will assist, as well. I have family in both locations. People who work the streets there, and we can locate Ressling and Brazille in no time,” he offered.

  “If this is a trick, I’ll personally break your fucking neck,” J.T. threatened.

  “Not a trick, I swear, Brazille does not deserve this,” Vincenzo said and J.T. looked at his brothers in arms, his team.

  “Looks like we’re going hunting, men.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Brazille, wake up now. Come on, it’s time to get the drugs out of your system.”

  She heard the deep voice, and felt the caresses to her skin. She blinked her eyes open. The smells invaded her senses. She looked around and saw cream-colored walls, concrete or something, a sheet for a door covering the doorway, a light, warm breeze, so odd and so hot, then the flickering of lights, like the electricity was going on. Otis Ressling wore no shirt, just dress shorts as he caressed her skin, and moved her hair from her cheeks.

  “There are those gorgeous eyes. You see them now, Cashmere?” he said, and she moaned as her heart pounded, and her arms and legs ached. She realized too late, when the bed dipped and a hand smoothed up her bare thigh, that she was basically only wearing a tank top and panties. No bra, and she was super hot. She felt the perspiration hit her brow, and one look at Ressling, and even he was perspiring.

  “It’s temporary. We’ve been here a week and it’s just about time to move on. Another week or two at a different place, and when we’re sure it’s safe, we can bring you to our home near the water,” he told her. Tears filled her eyes.

  “A week?” she asked and a tear fell.

  “Shhh, baby, don’t. We’re here to protect you. You belong to us now, and Cashmere and I will teach you so much, and we’ll have a lot of joy together.” He ran his palm up her thigh, over her ass and squeezed. She shifted away.

  “I want to go home,” she said.

  Cashmere gripped her hip, rolled her to her back, and loomed over her. “You are home. Home is with us,” he stated, staring down at her breasts pouring from the flimsy tank top they put on her. She worried that they raped her, or touched her and she didn’t know. Her head was fuzzy and she wondered why, and how come in a week’s time this was the first she awoke.

  He cupped her breast. And she went to move.

  “No. You belong to us now. You accept it, or we’ll tie you down and make it all hurt,” Cashmere threatened her. He looked fierce, filled with muscles, and was tall like J.T.

  The thought made more tears emerge. Where were her men? How come they didn’t come looking for her? Did they not know where to find her? She started to shake.

  “Shhh, no, no, no, we’re going to take our time with you. We have plenty of it,” Cashmere told her and stroked her lip with his finger, he then trailed it down her shoulder, moving the strap of her tank top. She held her arms by her sides tight so he couldn’t pull it down and expose her breasts.

  “Lift up,” he said, and she shook her head.

  “Do it,” Ressling ordered.

  “No,” she said, and Cashmere lifted up fast, straddled her hips and dragged her arms above her head. It felt like he pulled them from their sockets as he raised them up and shoved her top up to her neck.

  “No. Let go of me. Don’t touch me!” she screamed at him.

  “It’s too late for that. Touching you, sucking on these breasts, tasting you has kept us quite content while you rested, and we ensured we weren’t found. Now that you’re awake, we can do so much more,” he said, and rocked his hips.

  The tears flowed. “No, no, I won’t let you. I don’t want this. You can’t make me,” she said, and he chuckled.

  “That’s what you think,” Cashmere said, and lowered down and forcibly kissed her.

  She bit his lip, shocking him and causing him to release her arms. She slammed her fist into his throat, and he grabbed his throat and fell back. She scrambled off the bed, hit the floor, and as she got to the door, the strike to her back with the long, thick club sent her across the floor. The pain in her shoulder paralyzed her, and then came the screams.

  “You will submit. There is no going back. Not ever. No one is coming for you. Your life, the past is over. It doesn’t exist and we are your future. You submit or you die. Your choice,” Ressling said to her as Cashmere held onto the doorframe, his hand against his throat as he was still trying to catch his breath.

  She lay there with her face to the floor, the pain still radiating in her shoulder. “I would rather die,” she said.

  Cashmere chuckled. “I can arrange that, too, but first thing’s first.” He grabbed the rope he had on the chair, and yanked her arms back behind her back, tied her wrists, and then brought her legs up, tying them. He then shoved her down to the floor. “See how that feels in about an hour,” he said, and already her muscles and bones ached. He was punishing her and she wasn’t stupid. They would both force themselves between her legs. They might have done so already and she didn’t even know. She had to be smart, and next time she made a move, it would be to kill them, or die trying.

  * * * *

  “They were here. This blood is fairly fresh. Maybe a day or two old. We’re getting closer. This syringe, too. It’s the same as the one at his house and on the jet, and what we found along the way. She must be putting up a fight for them to be drugging her,” Finlin said as they looked for more evidence, and tried to figure out where they would go next.

  “They could be heading into Limassol. We’ll need to continue to track them. We could wind up in hostile territory, and it’s pretty obvious we’re American soldiers,” Scout said.

  J.T. looked around him at his team and their friends, who all volunteered to come along and help. There were more who wanted to, but coming in here to Cyprus with fifty soldiers would definitely be noticeable. He was proud and happy to have Spartan, Scout, Quantico, Finlin, Mink, Falzone, Romano, and Greco along with them.

  “I have that contact Kendra gave me. This guy, a local tracker, and all around know it all. Sacrim is his name. Why don’t I get in touch with him and see what he can find out? We’ll sit tight instead of going off on some wild goose chase,” Quantico suggested.

  “Sounds like a plan. Go ahead and make contact,” Spartan said, and they waited it out.

  J.T. looked at Farrow. He was staring at the bed in the bedroom, more than likely wondering what the rest of the team wondered. Had they raped her, touched her, hurt her? Was that her blood and where was she bleeding? He closed his eyes a moment and willed the crazy thoughts from his head. Years of military service, or missions around the world, and he and the team witnessed terrible acts of violence against men, women, and children. Things that haunted them for years until they became desensitized to those memories, and focused on seeking justice for the victims. He had been in a place that made him numb, unaffected by the violence, or so he thought. This was different. He felt the need to hunt, to kill, begin to control his every thought. He was losing his mind, his focus, because the victim was his woman. Sweet, sexy, beautiful Brazil. What had they done to her already? Did they touch what was his and his teams? Violate her, beat her? What?

  He shook his head, ran a hand along the gruff of his beard and locked gazes with Cole and then Luke. Farrow was in a dead stare out the window, gun in hand, ready to tear Brazille’s captors limb from limb. It would do none of them good to think the worse and imagine the possibilities. Quantico returned twenty minutes later.

  “Anything?” Luke asked.


  “We sit and wait. Crazy fucking guy. He asked if Kendra was here with us. Told me a story about her hiking adventure and the guide that got bit by a poisonous snake, and how she saved him. I swear, there is so much shit she hasn’t told us,” Quantico stated and they laughed.

  “She’s damn resourceful and made a lot of friends along the way. How did this Sacrim guy seem to you?” Spartan asked.

  “Like he knows everything. He said he heard about two men and a woman who was ill, that they carried along a path. He knew this hut they were staying in, so I would say he could find out where they went next. Told me he would come here, and whatever help we needed he would assist. He believed there was an additional man with them. A tall, muscular guy, wore dark sunglasses. I’m thinking maybe it’s another security guy of Ressling’s since we took care of the one guy we came across a few days back. Said Kendra was an amazing woman who had guts like a man, and wondered why she wasn’t with me to help. Claimed to know her shooting abilities.” Quantico chuckled.

  “Well, we pretty much found out how capable Kendra is. This information on this additional guy is a good tip. We need to keep our eyes and ears open. Don’t need anyone taking pot shots at us. In this area, we’ll be taken out like easy targets,” Spartan said.

  “We should break up into teams of three, scout the area in a long line, almost side by side so we can clear more area once this guy Sacrim comes through. That way if there’s an additional security guy of Ressling’s, we can eliminate him quietly. Otherwise they’ll know we’re coming for your woman,” Falzone said to them.

  “Good idea,” Mink said, and they all agreed.

  An hour later, as they really started getting tired, Roman saw someone approaching from the hill below. He held his gun on him.

  “Quantico, this your guy?” he asked, and Quantico got up from the floor and looked. “Yup.”

  “Who’s with him?” Farrow asked, looking out the window.