The Fiddler's Heart
Page 1

Warriorville 14
The Fiddler's Heart
[Siren LoveXtreme Forever: Contemporary, Menage, Romantic Suspense, MFMMM, HEA]
Francesca Pouquet is a victim of abuse, but the one love that helped her through it all has been playing the fiddle. She gets lost in the music and the sounds and uses it to cope with the pain.
When she is finally free from her ex's control, it's in her music she finds therapy as she regains her strength and self-confidence and begins to work and make new friends.
It isn't easy and the last thing she expects is to have feelings for four, much older men. The Buristoff brothers, Sodo, Track, Gordon, and Century, know her pain and her case, because they were part of the team investigating. They gain her trust and her love, but she isn't out of danger yet.
She is the center of a federal investigation and ultimately a sacrificial lamb, but Francesca and the Bursitoffs don't figure that out until it's too late.
Length: 38,000 words
THE FIDDLER'S HEART
Warriorville 14
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
The Fiddler's Heart
Copyright © 2020 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64637-127-3
First Publication: March 2020
Cover design by Siren Publishing
All art and logo copyright © 2020 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.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE FIDDLER'S HEART
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Epilogue
THE FIDDLER'S HEART
Warriorville 14
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2020
Prologue
When the fiddler plays, nothing else seems to matter. Not the world going on around her, not the chaos, the pain and fears still raw within her. No, when the fiddler player her fiddle, nothing exists but the music, the notes, the sounds, the excitement building up from within, escaping from her fingertips. It’s in the moment, in the music, the chords, the beauty of the fiddle that sets her free. When she no longer feels the pain, the defeat, the weakness, but instead the power of the talent, her expertise, and the joy it brings to her heart and soul. When the fiddler plays the fiddle, she is whole once again. Alive, enthusiastic, motivated, healed, but when the fiddler has no fiddle, no music, no purpose, the demons rock her soul, rule her mind, and force that fear upon her, and she succumbs to those fears and to the danger that lies ahead.
She plays until her fingers ache. Until the sun is long gone and set, when darkness overloads her surroundings and fear grips her heart. No other action, an activity, responsibility has a purpose, a cure, a healing element but the fiddle itself, yet it also triggers helpless moments from the past when she was still a victim. Unable to fight to get free, and only knowing orders, commands, and the pain that always followed. But when the fiddler plays her fiddle her heart is momentarily healed, and life, a future beyond pain can almost be visualized, but just as quickly as the positive thoughts appear, they vanish much too soon, and reality brings her back to life. The demanding tone, and the heavy footsteps. He’s coming. He’s here. Zane found her and wants to take her back to hell.
Francesca awoke to the startling sound of thunder. She jerked upright on the bed, so deeply lost in her mind, in her dreams of playing the music, then hearing the heavy footsteps and knowing who was coming and what Zane wanted from her. Exhausted on purpose in the hopes to lose all sense of reality. A nightly routine since achieving freedom, temporary at that, but still freedom despite Zane not being caught. She really wasn’t surprised by his ability to remain at large. To evade capture from not only police but also gangsters. She hated him, yet feared him still, even now, and she knew that if he ever found her, approached her, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. Not against a man that big, that capable, that evil. She slid to the edge of the bed, her feet hitting the cool wood flooring, and she stared straight ahead. The light illumination of battery-operated candles gave her peace of mind. More than a month had passed, life went on, her sister Angelina got a new start, and even fell in love with multiple men. She wondered how she did that, especially after Clifton’s abuse.
What changed, eliminated the fears, the memories of the abuse, the words, the strikes to her body, the treatment, that could have her sister letting down her guard and trusting not only one man, but four? Was Angelina out of her mind? Francesca watched them all together. She could see the love, the compassion between Angelina, Niko, Vander, Castle, and Fredo. She envied it, but she worried about Angelina despite how capable and strong Angelina was physically and mentally.
The men were soldiers. So what? That title had no kudos like when she was naive and fell in love. No, she learned of the evil side of men, of soldiers who were out for money, for power and control. Her sister somehow got past the fear, the intimidation, the weakness and made a new life, and new start. Francesca watched her, envied her body, her personality, her strength, her ability to gain friends and admirers instantly. Francesca could barely handle the small conversations at the restaurant with customers at Ciao Bella’s. A job her sister got because she became such good friends with Bella, whose family owned the place. Francesca overheard the conversations, plus people shared personal stories with her in an attempt to build her cour
age and confidence. It seemed to Francesca that a lot of women in trouble, in danger wound up here in Warriorville. Was that what Angelina really intended in her moving and staying here? Was Warriorville a place of healing?
She wondered as she thought about Warrior’s Way, and now the new program that Angelina established at Powerhouse Studios along with Liz, that helped women in need, victims of domestic violence, or in need of new starts. Liz and Angelina wanted her to participate in the program further and provide support and aid to new women coming with questions, but how could she when two months had passed and Francesca wasn’t feeling any more empowered or in control?
Francesca rubbed her thin arms. She was frail. Weak, getting stronger each day, but still not half as capable as her sister. The ache in her gut her stomach stopped her from getting better, healthier. Her mind often played tricks on her, and when she was feeling a bit better, like she could accomplish more or even try something like a class at the studio, she would get these sensations in her gut. Like an ulcer, something that burned inside of her and made her think of Zane, of his demeaning words, his abusive treatment and she lost the will to even try. Would she ever get rid of these sensations? Would she ever end the fear?
Despite being on one end of the private estate and ranch owned by Fullcheck brothers, she still felt like a burden, but that was in her head. The decision to move out of the townhouse her sister owned came with the realization that her sister needed time with her men. They were in love, they wanted her in their bed, and at the same time Angelina didn’t want to leave Francesca alone, and especially at night. When Castle and his brothers offered for her to move into the estate so they could be one family together and be there to protect her too, she was hesitant. She didn’t know them or trust them, but she took the chance for her sister, and it worked out. Knowing that those big, capable men were nearby gave her a bit of security she hadn’t known would mean much.
She smiled softly. She was trying. So very, very hard, and she knew Angelina would get frustrated a little, but she tried hiding that. Her sister was a godsend. She physically fought off Clifton. She literally could have killed him. That was because she had a fight in her and a determination to train and to never be a victim again. Could Francesca ever get there?
She looked to the fiddle that lay in the open case by the dresser. Vander’s friend Gordon had found it at the mansion when the feds invaded Zane and Clifton’s home. He got it back to her. She didn’t remember meeting Gordon, or any of the other law enforcement officers and agents that arrived on the scene in Coldwell. Apparently, he was a retired Special Forces guy who did similar work like Angelina’s men. Special operations, and investigations for law enforcement organizations or something. It all sounded so dangerous, and that only made her more nervous for men like that and for her sister and her men. She headed to the bathroom to get washed up and dressed for the day. Her room was set up like a suite with its own huge bathroom and Jacuzzi tub. She had a sitting area, and private hallway that led to the side of the kitchen and a huge back patio area. She sat out there a lot to play her fiddle and just relax, sometimes until late at night and until her fingers ached.
Today she was scheduled to work from ten until four bussing tables at Ciao Bella’s. Bella had even offered to train her for waitressing, as they were short staffed. She knew she should do it, she just felt a little shaky about conversing so much with the customers. It wasn’t that she wasn’t capable of doing that, it was just the fear and embarrassment she had that people knew what she went though and that she was a victim. No one looked at her funny or indicated anything like that to her, but she just felt that way. She really needed to give waitressing a try. It would mean more money, and maybe someday she could live on her own.
She got ready for the day and then headed to the kitchen. It was early, only seven, but everyone was an early riser and Angelina was already in the middle of a class at the studio by now. She could smell the fresh brewed coffee and then heard the conversation between deep male voices. She was getting used to that. All eyes went to the hallway and the four men greeted her.
“Morning, Frankie,” Niko said and smiled. “Morning,” she replied and made her way to the coffee pot.
Her sister had been the only one to call her Frankie for years, and then in the last month the guys began to call her that because they got accustomed to it. Francesca didn’t mind, it made them all feel like family. God knew her own parents were still not involved in their lives despite Clifton being in jail and Zane on the run. They chose to ignore everything and keep running their café and doing their thing.
“Sleep well?” Castle asked.
She nodded and then took a sip from the mug of coffee. She was getting used to how strong the men liked coffee.
“Angelina mentioned stopping into Ciao Bella’s around three o’clock or so. Did you want to take the car or get a ride with her back here later?” Fredo asked.
“Oh it doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to work until four though,” she replied.
“You know Angelina, she always gets caught up in something with someone. I believe she has a meeting with a few of the girls to discuss an event at Warrior’s Way,” he added.
“Oh yes, we’re supposed be helping to set up information tables for families that are visiting and considering Warrior’s Way for their family members. There are going to be several vendors there for the BBQ and event, and I think Angelina wants to connect what Powerhouse Studios has to offer women as well as assistance in areas of stress on relationships when soldiers return from serving and have PTSD. She’s been talking to a few of the individuals who provide counseling there.”
“She mentioned a few things but I couldn’t keep up. Then she bumped into Gordon and Century and they were giving her some feedback too. Those guys are coming over later tonight. We have a few of the guys coming to watch the game,” Castle told her.
“Nice,” she said and then they started talking about some other vendors that would be there and even mentioned some guys who were having a hard time, and something to do with a friend of Century’s who got hurt on this case they were on. It all made her feel uneasy and nervous. She hated violence.
“His arm is in a sling and he’s pissed off as hell,” Castle said and chuckled.
“Great, then he’ll be in a mood tonight,” Niko added.
“He’ll be fine, he seemed more pissed off at the guy who caused him to get hurt. Said it was some rookie detective or something who was all gung-ho about catching the killer they were after. The guy tripped him and Track stumbled right into the suspect who was slashing a knife at them. Got Track right across the forearm, and to add to the deep gash he sprained his wrist when he landed on top of the guy,” Fredo explained.
“He is so damn lucky. He could have gotten killed,” Vander said.
“That’s true but they got the suspect, and all the evidence they needed. That guy is going to jail for a long time,” Castle said to them.
“What did he do?” she asked. They all looked at her and Castle held her gaze. “He broke into several people’s apartments over a series of a few months. All single women, all unarmed. Two of them died from the injuries they sustained and the other three scarred pretty badly for life I’m afraid. The good news is these guys, our friends worked with local detectives and used their tracking abilities from the military to find this jerk in Mexico. They did an outstanding job,” Castle explained to her. She was shocked.
“That’s unbelievable. So are they soldiers or police?” she asked.
“It’s Gordon and his brothers, his team,” Castle told her. She knew they were similar to Castle and his brothers.
“Oh,” she said and then walked over toward the back door to look out at the yard.
“How about something for breakfast?” Niko asked her and she looked back at him.
“I’ll make something.”
“Be sure you do,” Vander told her and then the subject was dropped. She knew they were concerned for her, bu
t she did increase her calories in the last few weeks because of Angelina. Her sister was prepping her to start some of the self-defense classes. The only problem Francesca had was not really feeling ready to learn. She was so tired, scared, intimidated by aggressive behavior that she completely shied away from it. She could watch from a distance, which she had the other day, but then when the women came out of the class looking all perfect, smiling, complimenting the intensity of the class, it made her feel imperfect. Like she was abused and treated so badly for far too long that she wasn’t normal and might never be normal, or at least carefree. What would that feel like, she wondered.
* * * *
“Shoot, so you think she had a bad night again? Did she eat anything? Did you make sure?” Angelina asked Castle over the cell phone.
“Hun, calm down, and don’t worry so much. You know the routine with her. Every day she gets better, stronger, and she doesn’t flinch at abrupt sounds or panic for no reason. She’s doing great. In fact, I heard from Roden, and he said Francesca is waitressing.”
“What?”
“Yeah, one of the waitresses has a stomach virus, and they needed help. She had no choice from what Roden told me.”
“Oh my God. Should I go there or wait?”
He snorted. “I think you need to pull back a little and give her some space. Perhaps her just having to react to a challenge on her own instead of you forcing one on her is the better approach.”
“Nice one, Castle.” He chuckled.
“We talked about this. You love her, she knows that, and you’ve helped her so much and can continue to be her major supporter, but she is a grown woman and she needs to face these things on her own if she’s ever going to feel independent and get a new start. Trust me, she will be just fine.”