The Dirty Dozen: Damsel Edition

by Kay Maree

  After the third time I climbed out of some random woman’s bed, hating myself and feeling the urge to throw up I decided enough was enough. If I couldn’t get my rocks off without feeling physically ill, then it just wasn’t fucking worth it.

  That was three weeks ago, and I can’t say I’ve regretted my choice yet. Well, aside from thinking I should have taken out a full-page add and a fucking billboard to inform everyone I was a changed man that is.

  Brittany’s husky voices pulls me out of my head, reminding me that I’m still standing here like an idiot staring at her. “Unless you’re here to deliver beverages and snacks, I see no reason for your continued presence.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d take her sharp retort as an immediately dismissal, but unluckily for her I’m good at reading people, and she’s fooling no one. She wants me here, plain and simple. Her pulse is fluttering at the base of her neck and her chest is rising and falling faster with every word that spills from my lips. Yeah, the girl is into me all right, which means it’s time to up the ante.

  On a grin, I offer, “I’d be happy to be of service in any way your heart desires, but you’ve gotta do something for me first.”

  “What on earth is it you think I would do for you?” Brittany queries while Lani sits beside her grinning like a loon.

  It’s no secret that I’ve been angling for a date with the infuriating woman, Lani all but called me out on my attraction to her friend after she saw me pacing the hallways of the police station. That’s not to say Lani didn’t give me the third degree, demanding to know my intentions with her friend before giving me the go ahead to try and sway Brittany around to my way of thinking.

  “One date,” I state firmly. “You agree to go on one date with me and I’ll promise to be at your beck and call for as long as you want.”

  Brittany’s expression twists into one of confusion followed quickly by distrust. I won’t say the latter isn’t unwarranted, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  Her mouth opens and then closes, the words seemingly stuck in her throat. Not wanting to give her the chance to deny my request, I add, “I choose the place and get to pick you up. All you have to do is put on a pretty dress and promise to give me a chance to show you a good time.”

  Lani nudges Brittany’s shoulder, nodding fervently at her. “It’s only a date, Brit.”

  Looking me up and down, Brittany assess the situation and me correctly. “I highly doubt anything with him comes without strings, but what the hell. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Challenge accepted, I smirk to myself. The beautiful woman I intend to make mine has absolutely no idea what she’s just gotten herself into, but she will. I’ll make damn sure of that.

  Epilogue

  Blake

  “I swear to God, if that jackass shows up here again, I'm going to kick his ass,” I bellow down the hall as I go in search of my wife.

  “What the hell are you bitching about now?” Burke asks from his position on the couch. In his arms is my little princess, Melanie or Melly as we’ve taken to calling her, fast asleep sucking on her tiny fist.

  Running my hand over the soft curls at the crown of her head, I grumble more to myself than him. “The asshole delivery guy.”

  “What about him?” Burke questions with genuine curiosity.

  He of all people should know without me having to tell him how fucking annoying it is when men think your woman is fair game, so what’s with the stupid questions?

  “Ah,” he chuckles at the look on my face. “I take it he was asking after your wife again?”

  “Dickhead wasn’t asking after her, he outright refused to hand over the package unless she signed for it,” I reply, seething at the memory of the smirk on the shady bastards face.

  About a month ago, our old mailman retired. Granted, he was going on seventy so it made sense he’d take some time to enjoy his twilight years, but it would’ve been nice if old Mr. Mathers had found a suitable replacement right.

  “You know your wife is hot, right?” My brother needlessly reminds me.

  I narrow my eyes at him and snap, “Your point?”

  “Well, I’ve formed a theory based on watching all the needle dicks that hit on my woman on the daily.”

  Burke does not lie. He has almost as many problems when it comes to keeping the unattached male population away from his wife as I do. And before you say we’re overreacting like our wives do, I’d like to point out that when a dude pointedly looks at your wedding ring and still slips you his number, it’s important to accept the struggle is real and let your man do what he has to do to deter the fools.

  Reaching for my baby, I scoop her into my arms and cradle her to my chest in an expert move that doesn’t Melly batting a single eyelash as she continues to slumber peacefully. “And what is this theory, oh wise one?” I ask sarcastically.

  Burke flips me off and then launches into what I’m sure will be a ridiculous explanation. “Take a woman’s age add to that her hotness level, and then multiply it by how many rings she’s got on her finger, and you’ve got the number of brainless dickhead’s that’ll hit on your wife in a week.” At my scoff, Burke goes on to say, “Truth, bro. I tested it out last week. My woman is twenty-eight, she’s a solid ten and there’s a wedding band and a rock you can almost see from out of space on her finger, so that’s seventy-six, Blake. Seventy-six assholes last week who thought, regardless of the fact I staked my claim on her fine ass years ago that they can play in my sand pit.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me?” My mouth gapes in horror as I do the mental calculations.

  Fifty-motherfucking-six! That’s how many guys hit on my wife a week? Oh, hell fucking no.

  “I see that look in your eyes, dude, and I’m gonna remind you, murder isn’t just frowned upon, it’s fucking straight up illegal. Don’t worry, though, Lani’s only got eyes for you, brother. That girl’s day doesn’t start or end without you, so chill the fuck out.”

  “How can you be so calm about this?” I question, genuinely curious.

  “Because I’m in the same boat,” he shrugs. “My wife loves me; she shows me how much she adores me every fucking day. I’ve never doubted her devotion to me and our relationship, so albeit it pisses me off, I’ve earned to come to terms with it and let it go for the most part. That’s not to say I won’t issue a reminder or two to the assholes who step over the line and think they can get all up in her space or touch her without her inviting them to do so,” he ends with a smirk.

  Glancing over at Lani and my wedding photo, her with her head thrown back laughing at something I had whispered in her ear, bone-deep adoration written all over her face, I can appreciate what Burke’s saying, but it still doesn’t sit well with me. It also doesn’t help that my baby girl looks exactly like her mother, which means I’ll be on double dickhead duty when the time comes for Melly to start dating - possibly when she’s thirty or over if I have any say in the matter.

  With a nod toward Melly, Burke states, “If you’re lucky the next couple will be boys who can watch out for them when you aren’t around.”

  I cross my fingers, toes, and everything else I can possibly cross and pray that my woman only blesses me with sons from here on out.

  But, like several other times in my life I’m screwed, because a little over a year later, Lani gave birth to our second daughter, and two years after that our third. Needless to say, four girls and one guy did not good odds make, so I had no choice to give up, if only to preserve what was left of my sanity.

  That said, I love every goddamned second of my oestrogen filled life, hormonal outbursts, tantrums, tears and all. There’s not one single thing I’d change about the beauty Lani and I have built.

  Not a single one.

  About the Author

  Born in, New Zealand, Natasha moved to Australia the year she turned eight. Growing up with a younger brother and two loving parents, it wasn't long be
fore she realized my love of reading, creative writing, all things rock 'n' roll, concerts, ripped jeans and vintage, heavy metal t-shirts.

  With the support of her husband and three children, she was able to break into the Indie Author scene with her first self-published title, Burnt, Book One in the Devil’s Spawn MC series. Since then, Natasha Thomas has gone on to write many titles in both the MC and Contemporary Romance genres, many of which have made the Amazon Bestsellers list, and become an International Bestselling Author with the release of Knight, Book 6 in the Vengeance MC

  series.

  Also by Natasha Thomas

  Tools series

  Screwed

  Vengeance MC series

  Call Me…Vengeance

  Fury

  Jonas

  Gage

  Cash

  Knight

  Jump

  Sarge

  Diesel

  Devil’s Spawn MC series

  Burnt

  Floating

  Savior

  Captive

  Broken

  Forged

  Legacy

  Forever After Novella series

  Mine

  Yours

  Claimed

  Owned

  Seduced

  Desired

  Patricks’ Brothers series

  Staking Her Claim

  Eye See You

  Eye’ll Find You – Coming soon

  Dark Knights series

  Tainted

  Tarnished - TBA

  Saving Lucy

  THE DIRTY DOZEN – DAMSEL EDITION

  Lorah Jaiyn

  SAVING LUCY

  Copyright © 2019 by Lorah Jaiyn

  The right of Lorah Jaiyn to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To all those who really believe in love

  and the magical power of dreams.

  Chapter One

  Jake

  Jake groaned as the sound of a barking dog dragged him from a sound sleep. Without opening his eyes, he slapped the mattress with an open hand.

  “Shut up ‘Sader!” he grumbled.

  Bark! Bark!

  Jake mumbled. “Lucy, shut that damned dog up!!”

  No response and the barking continued.

  Jake cracked his eyes open and realized the dog wasn’t barking from inside the house.

  Jake cursed. “CRUSADER!! SHUT THE HELL UP!! Lucy, where you at??”

  The house was silent as he stumbled into the hallway except for the sound of Crusader barking in the backyard. He glanced into Lucy's bedroom, but she wasn't there. The bathroom and living room were both dark and empty as he moved towards the kitchen, the barking getting louder. The microwave clock showed 7:13 a.m.

  It's Sunday. Where would Lucy have gone at this ungodly hour?

  Jake moved onto the back porch. A sleek black shape streamlined toward him as Crusader ran to meet him as the screen door slammed shut. Jake had never seen the Doberman quite so agitated as he ran around him, then toward the shed further back in their yard. He stopped about halfway and barked.

  "'Sader, what are you up too?" Jake glanced around the side of the house to see Lucy's car parked right where it should be. "Where’s your mama?"

  The big dog ran to the shed, barking as he ran around it and back to Jake.

  "Dog, you're freaking me out." He jerked his arm as a cold black nose poked into him before Crusader ran across the yard again. A strange feeling crept across the back of Jake’s neck as he wandered toward the shed. He heard the bark turn into a whine as the dog disappeared behind the building.

  The feeling turned to cold stark fear as he rounded the corner. Lucy was lying on the ground at the big Dobie's feet, dressed in the oversized T-shirt she always wore to bed. She was soaking wet like she had just taken a shower with her clothes on.

  “Lucy,” he almost screamed as he dropped to his knees. “Lucy, wake up.” Her skin was cool to the touch as his fingers found her neck. No pulse. “Lucy! Oh my god......”

  Struggling to catch his breath and choking on his own sobs, Jake scooped her up. Her wet hair stuck to his arm as he ran toward the house, her shirt soaking his chest.

  He tried not to jostle her head. “Come on Lucy. You have to wake up.” Crusader ran at his side, finally quiet.

  The house became further and further away as his chest burned with sobs, his breath ragged and strained. Time went into slow motion as he struggled along. His legs strained to run, but he didn’t seem to be moving. A flash went through his mind of the mother in the Poltergeist movie running and running to save her children as the hallway stretched out of proportion and became longer and longer as she ran toward their bedroom door.

  He finally reached the back porch and laid Lucy on the futon. The screen door slammed hard against the house as he flung the door open to grab his cell phone. One of the hinges gave way as he shoved it back open as he frantically struggled to dial the small buttons on the phone.

  "911 Operator - what is your emergency?"

  "My wife - she's not breathing and she's wet and her skin is cold. Get someone here now!" Jake hyperventilated as he choked out his address.

  "Have you checked her for a pulse sir?"

  "Of course I did - there isn't one."

  "And you said she's not breathing?"

  "No, she's not doing anything."

  "Do you know CPR sir?"

  "NO!! I need an ambulance. I need HELP!"

  The next few minutes passed in a blur. Jake did the procedures the operator explained, tried to get Lucy to take a breath or open her eyes, do ANYTHING. He vaguely heard the paramedics cautiously approach the porch from the side gate as instructed by the operator.

  “Sir? The dog?”

  Crusader sat at attention at Lucy's head.

  Jake sank back on his heels. “He’s fine.”

  The dog never moved as one of the paramedics pushed Jake out of the way and began to work on Lucy.

  "Sir, is there anyone we can call?" one of the paramedics asked after Lucy had left in the ambulance.

  Jake just stared, unable to comprehend the words, waiting for someone to tell him it was all a nightmare. It was Sunday morning for Christ's sake. They weren't even supposed to be out of bed yet. If only the dog hadn't barked and woke him....

  "Why were they outside?" Jake suddenly asked one of the men.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Why was Lucy outside with the dog? Why does she look like she took a shower with her clothes on?"

  "I have no idea sir..."

  "No, you don't understand. Lucy was NOT a morning person - especially on Sunday. It's her only day off. Why the hell was she outside?" Jake’s voice rose.

  "The authorities are on their way, Sir. You’re asked to remain here until they arrive."

  "I need to get to the hospital." The whole situation was surreal.

  "I understand, but we need to wait for the proper authorities."

  Jake ran his hand through his hair. “I have to call Sarah."

  "Sarah?"

  "Our daughter... oh God.... what am I going to tell her?" Jake sank to the steps.

  "Do you want us to contact her for you?"

  Jake struggled to think. "No," he choked, "I better call."

  Another man came around the corner of the house. He stopped and stood at the
edge of the porch. He looked at the paramedics through the screen.

  "Is it okay to come in with the dog there?"

  Without thinking, Jake snapped his fingers. Crusader didn’t move.

  "’Sader, come!" With a whine, the big dog lay down next to Jake.

  "I'm Detective Jeremy Thom, Mr. Sutton. Can we go inside and talk?"

  Jake stared at the dog. "What were you doing outside?"

  "Sir?" Detective Thom repeated. "Can we go inside and talk?"

  Jake stood and silently went into the house, Crusader right behind him. The detective followed without a word, but gave the paramedics a quick "thumbs up" that they knew not to touch anything else until the forensics team arrived.

  Once inside, Jake grabbed a shirt and a pair of shorts out of the laundry room off the kitchen. The detective stood silent as Jake pulled his clothes on. Once dressed, Jake stood there, not knowing what to do next.

  "Coffee, Mr. Sutton?"

  "No, I don't drink coffee. Lucy does sometimes but only when it's really cold outsi..." Jake stopped, sobs bubbling over.

  "I know this is a rough time, but I have to ask you a few questions. I'm sorry to have to do this right now, but we need information. Standard procedure for suspicious situations."

  "Why was she outside?" Jake repeated the question to the cop.

  "I was hoping you could tell me that."

  "I have no idea. Lucy never gets up early on Sunday - it's her only day off..." tears choked off the rest of Jake's sentence.

  "Why were you awake, Mr. Sutton?"

  "Jake - just call me Jake. The damned dog was barking," he pointed unnecessarily at the canine lying at his feet, "and Lucy wasn't shutting him up."

  "So, you went looking for her..." Detective Thom prompted.

  "Sader was outside barking and led me to the shed. She was lying behind the shed."

  "How did she get on the porch?"

  "How the hell do you think she got on the porch? I carried her when I ran back in here to grab my phone and laid her on the ... the ... the damned cushion thing."