by April Zyon
Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 April Zyon
ISBN: 978-1-77233-038-0
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Brieanna Robertson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This one is for Elle, thank you for giving me your honest, and helpful opinion when I needed it most.
MARINE OF HER HEART
Massey, TX 3
April Zyon
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Her arms were raised as she danced on the floor under the flashing neon lights, the strobes that pulsed to the beat of the music. She shimmied and moved, feeling more than one body pressing close to her and loving the contact. The silver bangle bracelets at her wrists and elbows tinkled merrily, but the sound was lost to the techno-vibe that filled the abandoned warehouse where the rave was being held.
She heard him then. She heard him yelling her name and then the scratch of a record as he barged onto the stage. The hair on her arms stood up. The pit of her stomach seemed to have dropped out because she knew that this time, he might just kill her.
“Gennifer, where the fuck are you?” he shouted into the microphone, no one daring to tell him no. Not him. No one ever told Salvador Peretti no and lived.
Genny tried to back into the crowd and get lost, but her naturally red hair that wildly curled around her head was something that wasn’t able to be mimicked by hairdressers, and sadly, made her stand out. When one of the strobes landed on her, she cursed and then all but fell over her own feet as she tried to begin to run.
Too bad Sal’s men were right there and grabbed her. She didn’t fight. She knew better than to fight. She already knew that she was going to be in serious trouble because she had tried to hide from him.
With her arms held, she was all but dragged from the floor and toward Sal. “Hello, poppet.” His smooth voice washed over her body. “I thought I told you that it was far too dangerous for you to be in a place like this.”
“And I thought that I told you that I was done,” Genny shot back. She should have expected it, but she was no less shocked when his hand slapped her face. She heard his low growl and then watched as he straightened his tie.
“I was worried about you. We both know that you are my weakness.”
“Bullshit.” Genny had been trying to get free of the man for the last six months and she simply couldn’t. She had tried to go to the cops, but they were under his thumb. She had even tried to leave, but he froze her credit cards and bank account, again, thank you, Civil Servants. She was at her breaking point. “I told you I was through with you on my birthday.”
“Oh, but, darling, that was just an April’s Fool joke and you know it. We both know that you love me.”
“No, I actually don’t.” Genny was being pulled from the rave and the one person, a complete stranger, who stood up to help her was promptly dropped onto his ass by one of Sal’s men. There was a kick to this stranger’s gut and then a reminder that no one fucked with Salvador Peretti's property and lived.
****
Three days later
“Gwennie,” Genny whispered into the receiver of the phone. “Hey, sis, it’s me. Hey, I need your help.”
“Genny?” The sound of a bed spring squeaking slightly came over the line. “It’s Gennifer,” came through muffled before Gwen said into the phone, “Genny, honey, where are you?”
“I hate to ask this from you, but I need help.” Genny could barely move. Her latest reprimand had taken a huge toll on her body in the form of a sprained arm and at least two bruised ribs. “I can’t go to the police here, they are all in his back pocket. Can you please, please wire a bus ticket to Los Angeles Greyhound station on Fourth? I want to come home.”
“Of course. I can fly there. I will come get you. I’m not letting you do this alone Gennifer.”
“No, Gwennie, don’t come here. You don’t understand the danger. God, please don’t.” She choked on a sob. “Just, please. Just send the bus ticket? I will come home and then we will work on everything else?”
“I don’t like it. At all. I’m sending someone to get you,” Gwen said softly. “Someone that Rhys trusts. I trust him too. Just, just get there. He will be there in nine hours. Can you hold on that long?”
“I can.”
“Good. You hold on, sis. Someone is coming for you.”
Chapter Two
A phone call in the dead of night wasn’t something anyone wanted to get. The fact he was up anyway didn’t matter. He grabbed the cell and looked at the screen as he answered. “Yeah?” he said in a low tone.
“Need a favor. I’ll owe you big,” the voice on the other end said.
That had his full attention. Especially considering he likely owed Rhys Hollister a half dozen favors as it was. “Call us even,” he countered.
There was a long moment of silence before Rhys sighed. “Okay, but you may change your mind after I tell you what it is. Actually, you’ll change your mind once you meet my favor,” his friend and former Marine Corps cohort muttered.
“Spit it out, Rhys. What do you need me to do that has you calling me in the dead of night?” Glancing at the clock, he squinted. Two forty-six a.m. to be precise.
“I need you to get to the L.A. Greyhound on Fourth as fast as you can. Take a vehicle, you’re going to want one of your own. I need you to pick up Gwen’s sister, Gennifer,” he said softly.
Ah, the elusive baby sister. The trouble finder extraordinaire. Gwen, Rhys’s fiancée, and nicest person on the planet, was the polar opposite of her baby sister. From all the stories he’d heard, Genny and Rhys’s baby sister Alison used to be serious hell raisers.
“The guy she was with is likely the issue.” Rhys was still talking. “His name is Salvador Peretti. I’m sending you everything I could find on the asshole. If I get anything more once Simon gets here, I’ll shoot it to your email. I sent along a couple photos as well so you should know him anywhere. Listen, Vic,” he said before pausing.
Victor Michaels had survived by listening to his gut. It wasn’t always accurate—the fourteen bullet wounds he’d taken while in the Marines gave testament to that—but it was a good little guide. “What?” he growled into the phone. He was already starting to figure out in his head what he’d need to take as he looked around the house he, Simon Markham, and Anthony Romero—also former Marines—had rented for the duration of their stay in Massey, Texas. He had to travel light to be fast, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be armed to the fucking teeth.
“This Peretti guy has the cops in his pocket. He has a massive security detail that are all former Rangers or SEALs that ended up getting weird discharges from the service. They are, for all intents and purposes, as fucking psychotic as he is. You will need to disguise Genny in some way to get her out of town. I don’t even care what you do, I doubt she will either at this point, but no matter what, you get her back home.”
“You know I will,” he said. It was a matter of honor between brothers. Not of flesh and blood, but of the battle field. “How is she going to know I’m there to bring her home and not just one of Peretti’s goons?”
“Hang on,” Rhys said. The phone was muffled just enough that the words on the ot
her end couldn’t be heard. Vic figured the man was talking to Gwen. “All right.” He came back on the line. “Stop by here before you head out. Gwen’s going to give you a pendant that’s been in the family forever. Peretti and his goons could never get their hands on it. But Genny will recognize it right off.”
“Copy that,” he said. They chatted a couple more minutes before Vic got off the phone. Throwing a bag together quickly, he scooped up his laptop. Dragging it with him to the weapons armory of the house—hell yeah, they had one—he got it up and running while he chose his tools of the trade.
Thirty minutes later, armed to the gills, prepared with information that left him chilled, he headed straight for the Hollister Ranch. A quick stop and then he’d be on his way.
****
Pulling into a parking spot up the street from the Greyhound station, Vic turned off his bike as he looked around. Tugging his helmet off, he stuck it into one of the big saddlebags of his Harley Softtail as he stretched. He couldn’t feel his fucking tailbone any longer. Not that it mattered. He’d suffered a hell of a lot worse over the years.
Quickly bending over, he touched his fingers to the asphalt before slowly straightening up. A couple of LAPD’s finest gave him a once-over and nodded. Returning the nod, he rolled his arms in the sockets. He didn’t have any weapons on him they could see or even guess about. He wasn’t an idiot. Vic knew that it was best to be prepared for the worst, but to also know those he’d likely be dealing with.
After patting his pocket to ensure he had the pendant necklace still there, he sauntered for the front doors of the bus depot. He was just another guy coming to meet someone on a bus. Sort of.
Stepping in, he took a quick look around before heading to the general area of the bus to Dallas, Texas. It was the only one that Genny could take to get pointed in the right area of Massey. It was also where Gwen had said she should be. Should being the operative word.
Vic slid his hands into his jeans pockets as he walked, his gait slow and bored-looking, like he knew he had time to kill, yet didn’t feel like sitting. He nodded to a few folks, smiled at a little girl who waved his way, and then he spotted her.
Genny was tucked back in a corner near some of the temporary use lockers. She had a hood up over her hair and her head down. It wasn’t her appearance that gave her away, it was the fact that she twitched at each and every noise. An announcement over the loudspeakers just about had her on the ceiling. Fuck, he had to get her out of there, and hopefully decompressed a bit.
He went nice and slow, moving in a circuitous pattern toward her spot. When he got there, he leaned up against the wall by her hiding spot. He didn’t look at her, though, just crossed his arms over his chest and crossed his legs at the ankles.
“Gennifer, I want you to stay nice and calm. My name is Victor Michaels. Your sister Gwennie, as you insist on calling her, and Rhys Hollister, asked me to come and get you. I have a pendant necklace she gave me to prove to you I’m safe. I’m going to slip it out of my front right pocket so you can see it. Don’t be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you, just to help.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, wasn’t sure he’d get one anyway. Stretching a hand out, he slowly slid two fingers into his pocket and gently tugged the chain out. He kept it hidden by his leg as he let the pendant drop down for her to see.
“We need to get you out of here. When we leave, we’re going to act like long lost lovers, holding one another tight as we walk. We’ll go right out the front doors, to the right a bit, and then across the street to my bike. I have a helmet for you to wear, but whatever you do, don’t lift your chin or lower your hood as we leave so no one can identify you. We need to keep your face off the CTV cameras in L.A.”
He could feel her tug on the chain, so he let it go, knowing she had it in hand. “I’m going to walk toward the vending machines to the left here. I need you to get up, go to the bathroom, wash your face and pull your hair back. You won't want it getting into your face during the ride after all, and then come out to find me. When you walk out, keep your head down, eyes to the floor, throw your arms around me in greeting when you find me. We’ll head out right after that, okay?”
Genny nodded and whispered her thanks to him. She waited for him to walk away from her and moved to the restrooms like he instructed. She was shaky, but that was okay.
His gaze met hers as she came out of the bathroom, and he gave her a small nod. It was all she seemed to need to help steady her nerves as she made her way back to his side.
Chapter Three
Gennifer had been terrified when she had made it to the bus station, and when the massive blond man had made his way to her with danger all but rolling off of him, it made her want to merge with the walls if she could. When his whiskey-sounding voice spoke, she felt safe, which was completely odd because of how much fear she had been living in for the last six months.
After walking back to him, she had to force herself not to look around for her ex’s men. She strolled up to the dangerous-looking man and wrapped her arm around his middle. Genny wasn’t a stupid woman, and she felt the weapons that the man wore like a second skin. “So, you ready to get out of here and take me home?” she asked and then added, “Oh, you know the lifesavers are the ones that I prefer.” She was hopeful she was playing things off right. She needed to get away, had to hide, and this man was her chance.
He tugged the lifesavers from the machine and handed them to her. “We’re going to head out of town to a motel. Get some rest,” he said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his touch careful and light. “Let’s get out of here first. I really don’t like hanging around in bus depots.”
“I don’t either,” Genny whispered, and leaned her head on his shoulder as if she were his lover. What was weird was how well she fit him. “So, we are going far from here, right?” she asked in a very quiet voice. She wanted to be as far from L.A. as she possibly could as fast as she could.
“Soon enough,” he told her. He didn’t say anything more as he guided her through the depot. His large body kept her from being bumped, not that many people got in his way. Outside, he directed her to the bike, keeping their pace nice and steady.
Victor dug out two helmets. “Keep your head down,” he said quietly as he got the helmet on her head. “You can stash your bag in the saddlebag on this side of the bike. I’ll get on, then I want you to climb on and get close. Keep your chin down like you’re snuggling up to me, okay?” He hesitated only a moment and then he asked her, “Have you ridden a bike before?”
“Sounds good, and yes, I have ridden a bike before.” She did as he told her, shoving her bag into the saddlebag and then climbed onto the back of the bike. With her hand around his waist, she closed her eyes and squeezed tightly. “You feel oddly good.” Which was weird. No one had ever felt this good, or as right, to her.
“Not touching that one,” he said, his voice right in her ear. Microphones in the helmets, she realized a moment later. “Just hang on while I get us moving.” He started the big bike up and pulled slowly out into what little traffic there was. He took a few turns, very lazy, relaxed, and at the speed limit, she noted. “We’re going to head northwest out of the city. There’s a number of mom and pop motels along the highway. We’re going to find one and then we need to figure out how to change your appearance. It’s okay for now that you’re hiding under that helmet, but it will be suspicious if you do it the entire way back to Texas. We should think about some semi-permanent hair color, for one, maybe a bit of darker makeup or a fake tan, and different outfits. Think on it as we drive. I figure it should take us about two hours to reach the first motel, and maybe another fifteen minutes to find one I’m happy with.”
“I’m good with it. I haven’t had time to get any color in my hair, so that was my bad. I wanted to be able to get here and I didn’t have cash with me, so…” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to use my cards for worry that I would be found. So if you don’t mind getting me color? And tanner as w
ell?” She was willing to do all of the above. “And for clothes, if you got me something larger, maybe, and I can put a pillow in my shirt so that I look pregnant or something.” She was thinking and talking, two things that she hadn’t had time to do in the last week or so.
“No, pregnant won’t work on a bike. But maybe we don’t go with tanner. What about going goth?” he asked her while he switched lanes. “We dye your hair black, get you the pale makeup, black eyeliner, black depressing clothes, and you have the attitude part down from what I hear. It could work, if you’re up for it. My only concern with the tanner is some people don’t react well, and I don’t want to chance it if we need to come up with a plan B.”
“Sounds good, and if you get me a flattening iron, I can make my hair straight instead of curly to help cover my face.” She squeezed his waist. She liked this more than she should. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me, for coming for me, especially at Gwen’s behest. Most men wouldn’t ever do that. Most men would tell her to stuff it.” She just wanted to go home and hopefully get her life back on track.
“Don’t worry about it. I was just glad I was there to help when Rhys called. Which reminds me, when we get to the motel eventually, I’m going to give you a burner phone to call your sister with. I have a half dozen SIM chips with me that we’ll switch out in the phone, destroying the used ones as we go. This way you can stay in contact with them, and Gwen can hopefully get some rest. She was more than a little antsy when I called earlier,” he said softly.
“Thank you.” She was crying quietly. “For everything. Thank you.” She sniffed, and while she wanted to wipe her nose and eyes, she couldn’t because of the helmet. “I hate that I have to constantly beg her for help, but I had no one else to turn to, and once I’m back home, I plan on getting my act together. No more idiocy for me. I’ve been trying to come home for months, but haven’t been able to.” She didn’t know why she was telling him everything, but it just simply spilled out of her. “He’s kept me from everything and everyone that I knew. Thank you for coming for me.” She kept saying thank you, but she was so damn grateful that she couldn’t come close to thanking him enough for saving her hide.
