Two Times the Mountain Men (Menage MFM Romance)

by Terry Towers

  There were two fugitives, but I saw only one. The other was no doubt behind me where she was looking. Going on blind faith that Tyler would have my back and that the bald convict wouldn’t shoot his only leverage, I turned and shot.

  The bullet found its target, nailing the other fugitive in the shoulder. He grunted and dropped his weapon. Without hesitation I ran to the man, grabbed him and pulled him in front of me, using him as a human shield, putting the muzzle of my gun to his head.

  Tyler came in behind me, pointing his gun at the bald convict.

  Damn, we had ourselves a little situation.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Genevieve

  The haze was horrible and my head hurt so damned bad, so badly that I felt like it was going to explode. I didn’t want the haze to end though, because I knew what was in store for me when I came to. The longer I could play possum the better the chance I had of the guys arriving and saving me.

  How they were going to save me was beyond me. They could very well be walking in on a trap. My head hurt too badly for me to think clearly enough to decide what to do.

  As it turns out I didn’t have to make the decision as to what to do, for the decision was made for me when the door was suddenly thrown open and Brock, followed by Tyler, burst on through.

  Immediately, I spruced up, caught Brock’s gaze and shifted my eyes to the bearded convict who was about to sneak up on him. Thank God Brock understood, pivoted and a loud explosion sounded in the cabin a split second before the convict grunted and dropped his weapon to grab hold of his shoulder, which was rapidly seeping blood.

  The muzzle of bald convict’s gun dug deeper onto my bruised temple, making me scream out against the tape keeping my sore lips closed.

  “Looks like we have a situation here,” came the gruff voice of the man behind me.

  “Looks like it,” Brock confirmed. Despite having one arm around the neck of the man in front of him with his gun at the man’s temple, his eyes were fixed on the man behind me. “What do you propose we do about it?”

  “I think what’s going to happen is that you and your boyfriend there are going to drop your weapons, drop to your knees and wait for us to tie you up.”

  Brock laughed, it was cold and calculated. “That won’t be happening. It appears to me you are at a disadvantage.”

  “How’s that?” Bald Guy asked.

  “We have your man. You have the girl. But you only have one gun and we have two. It’s basic math.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing. I don’t give a shit about Reynold there. He’s going to bleed out on the floor anyhow.” He pushed the muzzle of his gun into my temple again, making me cry out and causing tears to rim my eyes. “The thing is that I believe that you do care about this one. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Then you’re misjudging. If it comes to me and my partner and her then we’ll take us any day of the week. We barely know her.”

  Bald Guy laughed. “You think I’m going to buy that? Not in a heartbeat buddy.”

  “You hurt her, you die.” Tyler cut in.

  “The rub is that if you shoot me your girlfriend dies. The question is, how badly do you want me compared to wanting her?”

  “We’re not surrendering. We all know what will happen if we do.”

  “If you don’t drop your weapons, I’ll just kill you two, have some fun with her and then put a bullet in her head.”

  Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! What in the hell am I going to do? Tears began flowing down my cheeks in earnest. It would kill me if something happened to them.

  “Touch her and I’ll kill you slowly you piece of shit,” Tyler growled.

  The convict laughed again. “Bingo. Guess I was right.”

  The bearded convict groaned, his face growing paler by the minute. “Man, I need a hospital. I’m dying.” He staggered, the only thing that was holding him up was Brock at this point.

  “Yes, you are,” the one behind me confirmed.

  I had to do something.

  “Let her go and you can be back in your warm cell getting three square meals a day, buddy,” Brock stated.

  I could see the strain the dying man was putting on Brock to stay upright while keeping the gun level at the one behind me. We were running out of time. The longer this took the less chance Brock and Tyler had to survive. I had to do something. Had to.

  Mustering up every ounce of strength that I had in me, I grunted behind the tape and used as much momentum as I could to lean myself to the left, away from the gun.

  “What the fuck!” The convict growled as the chair began to fall to the left.

  “Now!” One of the guys shouted, though I couldn’t say who as the chair toppled over and I fell to my side. I closed my eyes as my head slammed against the wood floor, but despite the severe shot of pain that radiated through my skull from the impact I didn’t pass out this time.

  Gunshots were fired. I couldn’t say how many, the fog in my head was too thick to register. There were grunts, a scream. Yelling.

  Forcing my eyes to open, the first thing I saw was the second convict, the one with the beard, lying on his side on the floor. His chest seemed to be moving, but his eyes were closed and there was a pool of blood forming under him.

  Where was Brock?

  “Brock!” I attempted to yell, momentarily forgetting that there was tape covering my mouth, so the only sound that emerged was a muffled noise.

  Tired. I’m so tired. My body was demanding sleep, but I refused to give into it. I was too strong for that.

  “Is he dead?” A voice yelled.

  Who was dead? Lifting my head, I attempted to see the figures moving around me, but couldn’t make out who I was seeing.

  “He’s gone.”

  Warm. There was something warm, a liquid, beginning to dampen my jeans. Did I pee myself? Oh damn, I hope I didn’t pee myself on top of everything else.

  Focus, Genevieve, focus. Where is the wetness coming from? I blinked a couple times, hoping to clear my vision then looked down the length of my body. The liquid was red, not clear. Thank God I didn’t pee myself. Wait. Red? Oh Jesus! Blood!

  Suddenly, I was moving, I was being lifted from the floor and the chair was being set back upright again with me still taped to it. I groaned as my head began to spin. Closing my eyes, I waited for the vertigo feeing to subside.

  “Genevieve! Genevieve!” A male voice yelled at me, pulling me from the fog again.

  Slowly, with hesitation, I opened my eyes to come face to face with Tyler. Tyler! He was alive. I’d have smiled, but the tape was keeping my lips pretty immobile.

  Brock! What about Brock?

  “I’m going to remove the tape,” Tyler said, grabbing an end of the tape. “I’m sorry baby, but this will hurt.”

  Tell me about it. I’ve ridden this roller-coaster already. I nodded my approval.

  In a swift, quick motion he removed the tape. It hurt worse this time, making me scream out; a high-pitched screech that would make a banshee envious. I was vaguely aware of my hands and feet being released from the chair.

  The moment my limbs were free, I attempted to jump from the chair to wrap my arms around Tyler’s neck, but my legs betrayed me. Tyler’s arms shot out and wrapped around my waist keeping me from falling.

  His arms felt so good, pulling me against him. His body was so strong and warm. I never wanted to leave the safety of his arms again. Closing my eyes, I buried my face against his neck and allowed myself to weep freely. Tyler’s arms tightened around me.

  “Thank God you’re safe. I’m so sorry,” I wailed.

  “Sorry. What are you sorry for?”

  Suddenly panic struck me. “Brock! Where’s Brock?” I looked around me and immediately I saw him standing there, a smile on his devilishly handsome face. Loosening my grip on Tyler, I pushed myself away from Tyler and threw myself into Brock’s waiting arms.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t lock the door.” I clung tight to Brock, my hands fisting his jac
ket.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” Brock whispered into my ear, stroking my hair and soothing me in the process.

  My mind was racing and there was so much I needed to know. What happened? Where were the fugitives? But I didn’t have the energy to put much effort into those questions. The two men I was falling in love with were alive and that’s what mattered. Falling in love… My God!

  “Get her out of here and take her to the bedroom, Brock. I’ll deal with the situation out here.”

  Situation? I attempted to pull back from Brock, but he wouldn’t allow it. Sweeping an arm under my legs he lifted me up and into his arms. I didn’t have the energy to protest, instead pressing my face against his shoulder and allowing myself to be taken into Tyler’s bedroom.

  My gun… Was my gun still in the nightstand? It didn’t matter; Brock and Tyler took care of everything, I was safe, they said so.

  Brock gently laid me down on the bed and sat on the edge next to me. “It’s okay now, you’re safe.”

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in and slowly released it, opening my eyes again. “I forgot to lock the door. I’m so sorry.”

  He smiled, leaned over and kissed my forehead. “It’s over and you’re safe. They won’t be hurting another person.”

  “Are they dead?” I didn’t need the answer, I already knew. There was only one way that situation was going to end: it was going to be them or us. The good guys won this time.

  “You saved us all, baby. You did.”

  I smiled, despite the soreness of my chafed lips and surrounding skin. “Guess that means you owe me one.”

  He chuckled. “I guess that means I do.” There was something in his eyes that I hadn’t seen there before. Was that affection or was it just my imagination? I had hit my head numerous times tonight; I most likely had a concussion.

  “How’s our little hero doing?” I turned my head and looked toward the doorway to see Tyler standing there. He was covered in blood, but I choose to ignore that fact.

  “Not sure if I’m a hero, but I’m okay. Tired and my head hurts.”

  He chuckled as he entered the door and came to perch on the nightstand. “You’ve got quite the shiner going on and a couple of mean-looking bruises, so I don’t doubt it. Would you like some aspirin?

  “That would be nice. What happened to the bad guys?”

  Tyler laughed. “They’re no longer an issue.”

  “Are they dead?” I needed to know.

  Tyler and Brock shared a look.

  “I’m not a child. Are they dead?”

  “They’ll never hurt another person again,” Tyler assured me.

  Closing my eyes, I nodded. “Good. I’m going to sleep now.” I was already out cold before I heard either of their replies.

  Chapter 16

  Tyler

  “What in the fuck do we do with two dead criminals?” I asked Brock, running a hand through my hair while looking at the two dead men, who were in the process of saturating the floor with their blood. “We just can’t keep them here. They need to be gone before Genevieve wakes up.”

  “They need to be gone before they ruin our floor.”

  I groaned. I hadn’t even gotten as far as considering the wood floor that was drinking in the sticky substance like a dehydrated man in a desert. “That’s also an issue, I’ll agree.”

  “It’s not like we can call the sheriff and have them removed. But I do get that they can’t stay here.”

  “Fuck!”

  “What?” Brock looked up at me curiously.

  “If we move them, we’d be disturbing a crime scene.”

  “What crime scene? They broke in, tried to kill us, but we got them first. I think Sheriff Duncan will understand. These were hardened criminals. Murderers. I don’t think they’d care, to be honest. We did the community a favor.”

  “If we’re lucky we might be able to get to town sometime tomorrow.” The snow had stopped several hours ago, and the sky was clear. It would take a very long time plowing our way back to town, and considering we wouldn’t be able to see where the dirt road was it would make it a frustrating journey, but it was doable. It was too dark to risk it tonight.

  Brock nodded. I could see he’d come up with plan before he even spoke. “Exactly. We’d have to plow our way though anyhow tomorrow if it was indeed the end of the storm. Here’s my suggestion.”

  I cocked a brow, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “They aren’t going to get the coroner’s truck up here for a while; even if we plow the roads with the truck, there’s too much of a climb. So I think we need to get some tarps from the shed, wrap them up in it and then store the bodies in the shed. Clean the floors and make it spick-and-span for when Genevieve wakes up. In the morning, we load the bodies into the bed of the truck and drop them off to the sheriff tomorrow.

  I wasn’t entirely sure of how I felt about the plan, but it was about as good as it was going to get. “For fuck’s sakes. Okay, let me go get the tarps.”

  I pulled on a pair of boots and jacket, which I didn’t even bother to zip up. The faster I got the tarps the faster I could get this done and over with. Opening the door, I got hit with a gust of cold wind and snow. Thankfully, the snow was just from the wind blowing it around and not more falling. The sky was perfectly clear. At least that was over.

  Closing the door, I made my way to the shed and a couple minutes later I had a couple of orange tarps large enough to fit the men, and rope to secure it around them, and was making my way back to the cabin. Never in my life did I figure I’d have to do something like this.

  Re-entering the cabin, I closed the door behind me and was surprised to see that Brock already had water boiling to mop with and a variety of cleaners to use for the process. The pools of blood under both men had gotten larger. The faster we got those assholes burritoed the better.

  “Great. Let’s start with the one with the beard first, then take the bald dude.”

  Walking over to the guy that Brock was standing next to. I dropped the tarps next to the corpse and I laughed despite myself.

  “What’s so funny?” The look on his face said he wasn’t amused.

  “Did you ever think that you’d go from being an Olympic athlete to wrapping dead felons in tarps and loading them into the shed?”

  Brock still didn’t laugh. “No, can’t say I anticipated this turn of events. I suspect I’ve made some seriously bad life choices. How about you give me a hand there, chuckles.”

  “Yeah.” I gave my head a shake; this was hardly a laughing matter. “Better laugh then cry, right?”

  “Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

  Bending, I flatted out of the tarps on the floor and the two of us set to work giftwrapping both of the men. Fuck. There really was no rest for the wicked.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Genevieve

  Nightmares. The nightmares came over and over, waking me throughout the night, but each time I awoke one of my gorgeous men was there to hold and comfort me. How I got so lucky I would never know. By the time the morning came and sunshine began to peek through the blinds the previous night was itself nothing more than a nightmare. Or at least that was what I’d convinced myself.

  “Hey baby, it’s time to get up. We have a lot to do today and the sooner we start the better.” Brock’s voice broke into my dream state and forced me awake.

  “Just a few more minutes,” I groaned, refusing to open my eyes and pulling a pillow over my head to block him out.

  “I wish I could, but we need to go.”

  “Then you guys go,” I groaned, “I’ll be fine here. I’ve been having horrible nightmares all night and I need to sleep. I kept dreaming those fugitives broke in and you guys killed them.” I groaned again as a spike of pain rushed through my head. “And my head hurts like a bitch. Do you have any aspirin?”

  There was a long pause. If I didn’t still feel him next to me on my bed then I would have guessed he’d left. “I do have
aspirin. But you have to get up.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Removing the pillow from my head, I opened my eyes and frowned. Brock looked tired—real tired. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place, and had never seen before. “What’s going on?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  My mind went blank for a moment and then it all came rushing back to me. I hadn’t been dreaming, it had been real. It had all been real. “Give me the mirror on the dresser.”

  “Genevieve…” His frown deepened as he took my hands in his. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

  “Give me the mirror, Brock!” I didn’t mean to yell at him, but I was feeling so overwhelmed.

  He sighed and nodded. Getting up from the bed, he grabbed the hand mirror from the dresser and reluctantly passed it to me, sitting back down beside me.

  A part of me was hesitant to accept the mirror. If he didn’t want to give it to me then there had to be a reason. Slowly I lifted it to my face and my mouth dropped. I had a massive lump on one side of my face, with a mean-looking cut. On the other side was another large bruise next to my black eye. “Ohmygod. It really was real.”

  “It was.”

  “Where are they? Are they dead?” The idea of seeing two dead bodies in the living room made me physically ill. My stomach began to churn. “I think I’m going to puke.”

  He leaned forward and grabbed a wastebasket, then held it in front of me. “It’s been taken care of. But we need to take the bodies to town and you need to go with us.”

  The mention of the bodies was all it took for what little contents I had in my stomach to come barreling up. Grabbing at the waste can I projectile vomited into the can, crying and gasping between the heaves.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Brock said softly, rubbing my back. “It’s all over now.”

  It seemed to take forever, but when I was finally finished my stomach and throat ached and my embarrassment was at an all-time high. “I’m sorry. I just…I just had a thought in my head of the men and dead…. Oh God. There was blood. I’d been laying in blood.” I grabbed for the waste can again but this time it wasn’t needed.