Storm Warning (Security Specialists International Book 4), page 15
Not sure they could wait that long, but DJ would stall for as long as possible.
“Problem, boys?” she drawled, addressing the five men in the center of the room and keeping the two who’d entered from the restaurant in her peripheral vision.
“Your daddy and Sean want you and your momma home, bitch.” The speaker was one of the men in the center of the room. Arrogant ass.
As if she’d go anywhere with any of them on her father’s say-so. As for Sean? How stupid did the man think she was? She’d never make it easy for anyone to take her to that rapist bastard. And if they dared to get near her sweet momma? She’d gut them and hang them up to dry.
Mentally counting to ten, DJ took one long, deep breath and then let it out. “Not gonna happen. Consider the message delivered. Now, you boys go back to your tables and let me and my friends eat and drink in peace.”
“Can’t do that, girl. We’re not messengers. We’re transport. You and your momma are going back to West Virginia,” Arrogant Ass said. “Now, we can do this easy or hard. You don’t want us to shoot up the place and take the chance to hurt some of these fine citizens, do ya?”
Yep, dumber than shit if Arrogant Ass hadn’t realized that at least half the men in the barroom could take care of themselves and would take care of any innocent civilians. That probably several fine citizens had already dialed the local emergency number for the sheriff’s office. Plus, she’d recognized several men from the last time she’d been involved in a shoot out with bad guys at Ma’s. They’d nodded at her. She had backup, and they’d follow her lead.
Arrogant Ass had no fucking clue what he’d just bit off.
Movement at DJ’s back.
Keely had removed DJ’s gun and pushed it into her hand. The bastards weren’t expecting her or Keely to be armed—that was her ultimate ace in the hole. But she’d still like to move this whole potential shooting match outside.
But how?
“I’m waiting, girl. Get your ass over here so we can go fetch your momma.” Arrogant Ass gestured with his gun to a spot next to him.
“I’m fine right here. And I don’t know where my momma is.” And that was the honest to God’s truth.
“Get ready,” Keely murmured.
DJ inclined her head in acknowledgment as she shot Arrogant Ass a fake smile.
Obviously, Keely knew something DJ didn’t. Whatever happened, they’d have to take out Sasquatch and Baldy, who currently blocked their way out of the bar. The two hadn’t pulled their weapons yet, so that gave her and Keely a slight advantage. But still without a distraction, she wasn’t sure how they’d escape eight men.
Then Callie entered the game.
“No one move.” Callie’s voice was loud and mean. “I’m tired, hungry, and my feet hurt really, really bad. So, if you move toward my friends, I’ll drop you.”
“Hey, I know you,” Arrogant Ass drawled. “I jack off to the Sports Illustrated issues you’re in.”
“You really are as dumb as you look.” Callie’s sigh was exaggerated. “I figure you all know what expert-rated sniper means, and I’ll admit to being expert-rated in long and short guns. If you don’t believe me, check out the jacker’s forehead.”
Sure enough, a laser dot was centered on Arrogant Ass’s forehead. When he moved, it moved. DJ didn’t know where Callie was positioned exactly, but she had the men in the middle of the room covered for sure.
“But you’re a super-model,” Sasquatch said as he looked over his shoulder into the dining room. “Super models can’t shoot worth spit.”
Callie’s answer was to shoot the floor right in front of Arrogant Ass’s boot, forcing him to jump back. The red dot went back to his forehead within a split second. “I don’t miss … ever.”
One of the locals shouted, “That’s for damn sure. She beats me at the local shooting range every damn time.”
“Thanks, Zeke. Oh, and I’ll add that I have enough firepower to take y’all down without taking a fucking breath. So, drop your weapons and put your hands behind your necks, fingers laced.”
“Jesus, Callie’s one mean bitch when riled.” DJ had used the shock from Callie’s threats to point her weapon at Sasquatch. “You got, Baldy, Keely?”
“Yep.” Keely stepped to DJ’s side. “The bartender, who’s an off-duty deputy, got the drop on the guy covering him when Callie entered the picture.”
Nothing like a beautiful woman with a loaded gun to shift the advantage to the good guys.
“Okay, assholes, here’s the deal—” Using her gun, DJ motioned Sasquatch and Baldy toward their buddies in the center of the barroom. “We’re gonna stand here until the law arrives. You all,” DJ indicated the entire group with a sweep of her head, “will be going to jail.”
Callie’s shooting buddy Zeke and several other locals moved to relieve the militia men of their weapons.
DJ shook her head and tsked. “Now, don’t you regret hooking up with my loser father and his asshole friends?”
Sasquatch elbowed the man frisking him out of the way and lunged for DJ. At the same time, three shots rang out, none of them hers, aimed at Sasquatch’s buddies. Faith in her friends’ abilities to contain the other bad guys allowed her to concentrate on her attacker. She used Sasquatch’s forward momentum and weight against him by ducking and upending him. He hit the floor face first and slid into the bar. The top of his head hit the solid oak bar with a loud thunk. She stayed out of grabbing range and trained her weapon on the back of his head.
Baldy, Keely’s target, lay on the barroom floor not far from where Sasquatch had landed; he was bleeding from his upper left chest. Two other militia men lay on the ground, bleeding from their thighs. One was bleeding profusely. Obviously, Callie had decided to wound and not wipe.
“Someone had better put a tourniquet on Arrogant Ass,” DJ said. “Looks like Callie nicked his femoral artery.”
“Didn’t nick it. Shot it on purpose,” Callie shouted as she entered the bar, her weapon trained on the militia men still standing. She looked like a Field and Stream cover model slash avenging angel. “Anyone else want to do something dumb?” She looked around. When no one answered, she said, “I didn’t think so.”
The outer doors to Ma’s banged open.
“Keely!” Ren’s voice boomed off the walls.
“That’s my man.” Keely smiled and yelled, “We’re in here, big guy.”
“DJ!” Ace roared.
Her heart sang—That’s my man.
“I’m fine, Ace,” she shouted, a wide grin on her face.
Weapons in hand, Ren, Ace, and Vanko entered the room on the run. Their angry male vibes preceded them. DJ swore the walls and floor vibrated from the excess of pissed-off testosterone levels.
They were trailed by six cops of the county and state variety led by Dan Morgan. He shot an annoyed look at her and Keely.“You ladies never leave us anything to do but cleanup.”
“You’re welcome,” she and Keely said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.
As the local law took over the prisoners, Ren came over, took Keely’s gun and shoved it in his belt, and then picked his wife up and hugged her. “Jesus H. Christ, sprite. Can’t you stay out of trouble?”
“Not my fault.” Keely kissed his chin. “So get over it.”
Ace came to DJ and rubbed her arm. His touch sent goose bumps over her skin. “You okay?”
She was now … just because he asked.
After holstering her gun, she moved into him and twined her arms around his waist. His arms immediately went around her. She was tall enough to whisper against his ear without the others hearing. “I’m fine—but I wouldn’t say no to a massage—”
Ace stiffened and tightened his hold. They were so close the bulge in his jeans pulsed against her lower abs.
“—and Lacey is refusing to give me one. Did you really mean it when you said you’d—”
He cut off the rest of her question by kissing her full on the mouth—with tongue, lots of deep tongue thrusts alternating with soft and hard nibbles of her lips. Just the way she’d grown to like it.
Ace’s kiss was a statement, an act of claiming to the world at large—or at least Ma’s world. She had no issues being publically claimed by him.
Relaxing into his warm, strong body, DJ moaned into his mouth, letting him lead her further into the recently discovered arena of passion. He shifted a hand to hold her head still for his kisses. His breath became hers, and hers, his. He slid his other hand down to cup her butt which he then kneaded as he pressed her lower body against his erection.
Countering his moves, she moved a hand to his ass and squeezed. Gawd, she’d wanted to do that ever since she’d seen him in his ski underwear at the cave. Yep, his bottom was as tight as she’d imagined—and biteable.
Ace pulled his lips from hers with a low, deep groan. His breathing harsh, he touched his forehead to hers. “Sugar, you really want me to—”
“Yeah.” She sucked on his lower lip and then let it go. “But you’ll have to be patient with me. I can’t guarantee I won’t freak. I haven’t been naked”—the cave didn’t count since she’d been unconscious for the no clothing part—“in a sexual way … couldn’t … not since—”
She buried her face against his neck. Tears of frustration at her inability to talk about her past, at her failure to put it behind her, trailed down her cheek. “Damn.”
“Shh, I understand.” Ace cuddled her closer and spoke softly into her ear. “We’ll start with the massage, lots of making out, and take it from there. If I scare you, you tell me. I’ll stop.”
DJ nodded, rubbing her cheek over his shoulder. “Your sister says you like me a lot.”
“My sister knows me well,” he muttered right before he sucked on DJ’s ear lobe. She trembled. He’d nibbled on her ear several times over the last five days, and she really liked it. “I like you plus—”
“Ahem.” Ren grinned at her from behind Ace.
DJ mentally groaned. Plus what? What had Ace been about to say?
Then she recalled where they were and the circumstances and buried her hot face against Ace’s shoulder. He rubbed her back and murmured, “It’s okay, sugar.”
She shook her head, her curls catching on Ace’s five o’clock shadow.
“We’re all glad you two are bonding, but—” Keely, held closely to her husband’s side, elbowed him and Ren grunted. “Watch the elbows, sprite.”
“Well, then don’t embarrass DJ.”
“Sorry, DJ, but Dan needs to take your statement.” Ren looked over his shoulder at the scene in the center of the bar. “And the prisoners were taking in your and Tweeter’s actions with way too much interest.”
Ace growled. “They can keep their fucking eyes off DJ. And what the heck went down here? They hit on you? Touch you?”
DJ could tell Ace was building up a head of steam, but wasn’t sure how much she should tell him. She was fairly certain whatever she said would only make him madder and bloodshed would ensue. He might end up in jail.
She looked at Keely who shrugged and said, “He’ll find out eventually. You might as well tell him now.”
“Tell me what, Dahlia Jane?” Ace tilted her face up to his. He proved he could read her when he said, “I won’t kill them. Dan and Ren won’t let me, so fess up.”
DJ took in a breath and rushed the words out on her exhale. “They were here to take me and momma back to Mingo County.”
Ace’s arm tightened and then he pushed her head back to his shoulder. He rubbed his bristly cheek over her hair and muttered, “Like hell they were.” He released her and nudged her toward Ren and Keely. After which, he headed toward the militia men sitting on the floor, their hands cuffed behind their backs.
Shit, shit, shit.
DJ caught up with him before Ren could and tugged on his arm. “Ace … you promised.”
“I won’t kill them, just point out the error of their ways.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let go, sugar.”
“No.” She dug in her heels and tightened her grip on his arm. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I never got my scotch. Plus, I strained a muscle”—not—“when I put Sasquatch on the floor.” She angled her head toward the hairy behemoth, who had a huge cut on his face and a black eye from his rough landing. “I want to eat and have that drink, give my statement to Dan, then go home and get that massage you promised me.”
Ace turned and gripped her upper arms gently. “My home.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered, “Yes.”
“What about your mom?” He pulled her closer until they touched, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and then he circled her waist with one arm and lightly ruffled the fingers of his other hand through the curls at the nape of her neck.
Home … this is what home feels like.
DJ sighed and gave him her weight. “From what the gals said earlier, my momma will be ecstatic.”
“I knew I liked Nancy.” Ace cracked a grin as he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the restaurant side of the building. He called over his shoulder, “Dan, DJ needs to eat and rest. You have until the time we’re done eating to take her statement after that I’m taking her home.”
“Hey, macho man, put me down,” she muttered against the side of his neck while she marveled at his strength. The only guys who’d ever carried her were men in her unit and that was when they had thrown her over their shoulders to get her out of the line of fire after she’d been shot. “I said I was sore, not crippled.”
“Not putting you down. Like carrying you.” He held her even more tightly against his chest. “Get used to it.”
Chapter 11
Tweeter’s house, same night
Tweeter opened the door to his house and with a hand on her lower back, ushered DJ inside. She moved so stiffly he was afraid she’d bolt like a fractious mare at any second—and he’d let her. She needed to know she could trust him—anytime, anywhere.
Closing the door, he moved to her side and left enough space so she wouldn’t feel crowded. She breathed in rapid little puffs as she slowly scanned his open concept living-dining-kitchen area.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked softly.
She jerked and inhaled sharply before turning toward him.“Think? About what …?” Her voice sounded strained.
His gaze traveled to her hands which were clutched in front of her stomach as if she were protecting her body from attack. From him.
Shit. She’d gone somewhere else in her head. Somewhere not good. Damn, Sean Varney and all the other bumblefucks who’d treated her like a convenient piece of ass.
DJ had been fine after the confrontation at Ma’s. She’d eaten and joked with the others and then had calmly given her statement to Dan. But as she’d sat next to him in the back of Ren’s Hummer on the way to Sanctuary, she’d become more and more withdrawn. Part of the tremors now traveling over her body and her pale color could be blamed on adrenaline drop, the rest was sheer fear. Probably fear of what she’d gotten herself into with him. Fear of the unknown. No matter how much she trusted him, how much she’d liked his kisses and touch over the last five days, the evidence was plain that she was now afraid of what he’d do to her … with her.
He vowed to be patient even if it hurt. He needed to show her he wasn’t like the other fuckasses she’d come across.
“My place.” Tweeter used the reassuring tone he’d used with a much younger Keely when she’d had nightmares. “What do you think of it?”
“It’s very nice.” Her voice still held a bit of tension. She moved away from him and into the room. Trailing her fingers along the back of his huge leather sectional, she added, “Masculine. Rustic with just enough modern tones to show your tech side.”
DJ turned her head and looked at him. The stark fear was gone, replaced with a wariness. Her caution he could handle. Her fear, however, made him want to howl and kill someone.
“It’s very you.” She shrugged off her coat and tossed it over the back of the couch, then sat down and began to remove her boots.
Tweeter let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he held. Okay, she wasn’t going to run, but that didn’t mean—“DJ, if you aren’t ready, you need to tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me.”
DJ scrunched her nose as she concentrated on removing her Army-style lace-up boots. “I know that…” She looked up, her fingers fumbling with the laces.
He was afraid to open his mouth. She might not be turning tail, but they were still a long way from him touching her skin. A massage didn’t need to be sexual. Plus, he hadn’t planned on moving his stealth courtship to the intercourse stage this soon anyway—just to the heavy petting stage and maybe include some of the cuddling they’d done in the cave.
“I want your hands on me, Ace.” She pulled off one boot and turned her attention to the other set of laces. Her high cheek bones blushed rosy pink. “I also want to sleep with you, like we did in the cave.” She looked up then. Her facial expression, serious. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in years. I felt safe with you.”
Relief at her words almost drove him to his knees. She also missed the closeness they’d shared in the cave. She trusted him to protect her. She trusted him enough to want to sleep next to him, held in his arms—and that would be all he did until she told him otherwise.
DJ came to him and touched his arm. “Where will we do it? The massage, I mean.” She looked so sweetly flustered he fell even more in love with her. She wanted him, but was still a bit shy and unsure.
Despite her age and life experiences, she was still an innocent when it came to personal relationships and sexual intimacy. He needed to keep that at the front of his mind.
DJ needed to be one hundred percent sure she wanted this … wanted him. Because once he claimed her, it would kill him to let her go.
“My bedroom?” Stripping off his jacket, Tweeter picked up her shearling jacket and then moved away to hang both coats in the mud room off the kitchen.
“That was a question, Ace,” DJ shouted after him as she sat on his couch. “Don’t you know? From what your sister and the girls said, you have light years more experience than I do in these types of matters.”
