Stolen Dreams (The Rivers Brothers Book 2)

by Lynn Landes

  "They will be held accountable for his crimes. Now give me the knife, luv." Bronnah yanks her arm away and slips the blade back in her belt.

  “I’ll keep it, thank you.” Gathering her composure, she wipes her eyes and looks around her. “I’m sorry if I interrupted you. I wasn’t prepared to see them.” Pain flickers, registering once more and she looks for Kimani. “Kimani?” she calls for her new friend.

  Kimani pulls free from Harris and rushes to her side. “I’m here.” Together they walk slowly back through the camp. No one speaks for a moment as they watch the women retreat.

  “Chase is it true?” Harris demands.

  “Yes. My wife was hunted by these monsters, and she’s in need of a doctor. Will you look after her for me and take her home for me? This isn’t over. I have to leave tomorrow and finish this, or they will return."

  “Wife?” Harris looks into his brother’s eyes and sees the fear and worry, behind the rage. “Of course.”

  Chase nods and turns to stare at the man he called a friend. Cleveland's eyes follow Bronnah's retreating form only to fly open wide in shock and fear when Chase grabs him by his bound hands.

  “Is what my wife said true?” Chase demands as he drags him away from the Chen.

  “Wife? Is that what you call your Irish whore?” Cleveland sneers.

  Chase’s eyes twitches as he thinks of all the ways he can kill him slowly. He straightens and tosses him towards the nearest downed tree, Cleveland grunts and rolls over with a laugh.

  "That's right, your bitch squealed good while I gave it to…" his voice fades when Chase grabs the ax from the stump. His tribesmen circle them and Harris lights a cigarette not bothering to try to stop his brother.

  "I believe you kicked my wife with that boot, didn't you?" Cleve tries to back up and desperately begins backtracking across the dirt.

  “No! It was the Chen, I tried to stop them, Chase.” Spittle sprays from his mouth.

  “And judging by the bruising on her beautiful face, both your hands were involved.”

  “Chase, get serious. You’re a man of the law, for God’s sake.”

  Chase snaps an order to Nootau, and two braves grin and grab Cleveland and stretch his leg over the stump. Horror fills his eyes when a third brave steps forward and just as he starts to inhale to scream a gag is shoved in his mouth.

  An orange flame reflects off the silver blade as Chase raises the ax and swings it down sinking it into the stump beside Cleveland's leg. Cleve sighs in relief until the ax in Chase's hand is replaced with a stone-head war club.

  “It is only because of my badge that you will survive tonight.” Chase swings and this time his aim is true.

  Later, when he tosses the club beside the ax and starts to walk away, Cleveland's voice rings out. "You Rivers are all the same," groaning he rolls over and pushes with his one good foot sliding back up against a tree.

  "Two swollen, broken hands, and one broken foot and the idiot still keeps talking," Harris grumbles.

  Chase turns to look at Cleveland. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. Your bitch is right, they will never stop hunting her.”

  Harris steps over and kicks Cleveland in the face, knocking him out. Chase laughs taking the bottle of whiskey his brother offers. “You showed him mercy, Chase. I’m proud of you,” Harris teases.

  Trembling hands hold the bottle as he swigs from it. "Don't be so sure, brother. Tomorrow he will walk, and I will savor every second of it."

  Bronnah is sleeping fitfully once more when Chase returns two hours later. Harris has already checked her wounds and agreed that it will be a few more days before they can ride for home. Her ribs are bruised if not cracked and he isn't willing to risk a jarring horseback ride yet.

  Kimani leaves when he returns and after washing in a pan of water Chase strips and joins his wife beneath the furs. "Chase?" she rolls into his chest, and he gathers her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “I’m here,” he whispered.

  “Hold me,” she weeps against his chest until she falls asleep.

  “They will never hurt you again.”

  Chapter 37

  Early the next morning, before the sun is up Chase wakes Bronnah. They make love beneath the fur, taking time to savor each other before the day begins. “I need you to go with my brother, Harris. I'm taking the prisoner to the Army fort.” Chase stands and dresses while Bronnah watches him quietly. He straps on his belt and checks his pistols. Next, his rifle is cleaned and loaded as Bronnah dresses.

  “Why? They wouldn’t have done the same for your family.”

  "They? You misheard me. I said, the prisoner, meaning one. I couldn't free the Chen, and I'm thankful for it." Chase stops and walks to her, "I’m trying to protect the tribe, but the Chen killed two young boys. The tribe must have retribution. War is coming, and I won't be the reason they're hurt. I will turn Cleveland over where he will be tried and hanged for his crimes, leaving me free to go after the source.”

  Bronnah starts to argue, beg and plead, but she knows he's right. "I could help, Chase. You could use me as bait…"

  “No!” He grabs her by her upper arms and pulls her close. “You’ve been hurt enough. I need to know you're safe with my family. They can protect you. Promise me, you will go home with them and wait for me." His eyes flash as he makes his demands.

  “Who will protect you, Marshall?” she whispers.

  "I will be fine. Bronnah, I am not dumb enough to try to take on the entire group alone. There will always be crime, but these people are trafficking human beings, and I now have a name and address. I'm taking a team with me, and when I'm through with them, there will be no one left who remembers our names.” A wicked gleam of determination is all she needs to know he speaks the truth.

  “I love you, Chase Rivers. You come back to me.” He kisses her gently before giving his word.

  “Chase? Are you decent?” Harris calls from outside the tent.

  “Mostly,” he teases.

  Harris is laughing as he enters with Kimani. “Are you leaving?” he asked his brother.

  “Yes, Can Bronnah travel?”

  “As long as we take it slow. Are there any other injuries I should know about?” Harris asked.

  "Other than, her face, ribs, back and wrists," Kimani demands. "Are all white men so savage?" she murmurs.

  Harris turns to face her, but Bronnah stops his words with her own.

  "No, Kimani, they are not. My father loves my mother, and my brother is gentle. Chase has never raised a hand to me in anger, though I surely tempted him."

  “Of course not, A Rivers would never harm a female,” Harris snaps and turns to Kimani, "As you well know, all races are capable of brutality, and that goes for both sexes, male and female."

  Kimani drops her head in shame, aware of the multiple times he has taken care of her from the abuse of her own people. “Forgive me, I spoke without thinking. Excuse me.” She places the food near the fire and hurries from the tent.

  “I’ll go talk to her. I will be back in a few minutes. Be safe brother.” He leaves quickly to catch up to Kimani.

  Chase watches the interaction with a sigh, thinking of his promise to the Chief. That will come soon enough. "It's time. Listen to my brother and stay out of trouble, Bronnah-mine," he demands.

  “I’ll do my best, but I don’t suppose you have a spare pistol, just in case?” she teases back.

  “God, I love you,” Chase jerks her into his arms and kisses her firmly before stalking out. He leaves before she can respond, and her soft words follow him.

  “I love you too.”

  San Francisco

  “He’s mighty proud of his glossy locks,” Rev snorts while watching from the room across the street.

  “Maybe you should take his scalp to your friends Chase, I think they’d love that,” Jack teases.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Chase growls, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

  �
��All three of my sisters put together, don’t spend as much time on their hair as this man,” Davis snorts.

  The three men chuckle even as Davis notates the schedule. “I can’t believe he’d be this stupid. His schedule should be varied. That’s the same day each week for six weeks. Always the same pattern, three personal bodyguards on the inside and a varied number scattered around him.”

  Jack nods, “If we are going to take him alive, it will have to be when he lets his guard down. We just have to wait.”

  “I agree. His house is too heavily guarded,” Chase starts to say.

  "Give me the word, and I can take him out right now," Rev interrupts, even as he sites him with his scope.

  "Virgil, you're mighty bloodthirsty for a man of the church," Jack snaps.

  "We wait for the signal, like we planned," Chase snaps ignoring their teasing banter. Moving to the window, he taps Virgil on the shoulder, and they switch seats. "It's now or never. If this doesn't work, I make take you up on your offer."

  Their voices fade away as he focuses on the barbershop.

  Yung Lin Chen rules with absolute authority. They have learned better than to question his law. He's a ruthless dictator with many enemies. Every day he wakes in a windowless room, barred and locked on the inside with two massive chained guard dogs, one inside and one outside. To an outsider, it would seem that Yung has created a jail, but a quick glance around the lavish four-room suite dispels any pity.

  Velvet brocade curtains over hand-painted windows. Beautiful furniture, ornate wooden tables, and handcrafted furnishings fill every room. His bathing room has a stunning hammered copper tub which he uses every morning at precisely the same time.

  It was his favorite time of the day. He knocks the code on the inside of his door, indicating to the guard he is ready. The guard knocks back, and Yung reaches down to pat the dog on the head before unbarring the door and removing the chained locks.

  “Xiàwǔ chap shjean,” Tea time, he orders.

  His tea will be poured by his newest pet. The women are chosen each night, hand selected for his morning ritual. He saves the most exquisite for himself, and this fourteen-year-old girl is no exception. Tea, bath, massage, and brushing. It is a two-hour morning of washing, combing, and oiling before he leaves for his weekly appointment with the barber before collecting his payments from the laundry.

  His hair is perfectly combed and shiny. The child combs his beard and oils it, while he closes his eyes with a sigh. At forty-three years old, his body is a perfectly honed tool. Muscular and hairless he dresses in steamed black pants, long sleeve black shirt, and mandarin collar. Each day he dresses in the custom clothing. It is lined with a lightweight chain mail, meant to protect him from stabbing. Next, his black hat which is lined in curved steel.

  “Shi-yoiu,” he calls, and the girl opens his wooden case of weapons. He fills his clothing with blades, hatchets, stars and more. All custom made for this purpose. Gently, he traces a finger down her porcelain cheek. “You have pleased me,” Shi bows and backs away as he turns to gather his pistols. He tucks them inside the gun pocket sewn into his black shirt.

  Shi-yoiu traditionally pours his tea and kneels on the wooden floor beside him, completely nude. Her waist-length black hair covers her body, and he smiles.

  “Pour one for yourself, drink with me,” he orders, and her black eyes fly open wide.

  With trembling hands, she pours the tea, “Have I displeased you, Master Chen?” she whimpered.

  “Not at all,” he takes the small vial from his pocket and pours it into her cup.

  "My father said…" Yung snaps an order, and the big brute of a dog begins to growl behind her. Shi-yoiu is shaking violently as she lifts the cup.

  "Your father stole from me, and he must pay. Giving you up was…unexpected, but I'm afraid more is required. Drink, and it will be painless, or I will feed you to my pet… I would prefer to avoid the mess.” He sips his tea and smiles gently at her.

  He sees the shift in her eyes, a flicker of a warning indicating her choice and he is ready when she lunges at him with his short blade. Hidden in the length of her hair she thought she could kill him. The dog attacks and drags her backward by her arm. His jaws close around her throat with a sickening crunch. He holds her until all movement stops.

  Yung watches as he sips his tea. Checking the time, he again knocks on the door and waits for the corresponding knock before unlocking it. “Deliver her body to her father at the laundry, while I’m at my appointment. Make sure to get his payment.”

  As he walks down the four blocks to the barber, his guards surround him. They are prepared for any fight. Today he has five bodyguards with him. The other three will be delivering the package. Yung whistles as he walks inside the shop. Two men stand guard out front while one stands inside. Two more are sent to the back door.

  “Good Morning, Master Chen,” the old Chinese barber murmurs with a bow.

  "Yes, it is. I need the usual," As his trim is finished the barber begins to shave Yung. He frowns when he hears the raised voices outside.

  “Master Chen, the Chinatown Laundry is on fire,” his guard informs him.

  “Hot towel?” The barber asked.

  “Of course,” he leans back as the towel is applied. Yung doesn’t bother removing the towel. “Tell the two out front to go assist them and help with the wounded but be sure to recover my cash.”

  “Yes, Master Chen.” He gives the order before returning to his post.

  More noise erupts outside, and voices again raised, feet pounding, sirens begin blaring and again the guard dashes outside to seek the source. “A fresh towel, Master Chen?” he removes the towel and replaces it with a freshly heated one.

  “Yes,” he snaps as the guard returns again.

  “The Central Street Laundry is on fire now, but they believe they have it contained.”

  “I see. Central Street is behind in payments, leave them. Send in one of the guards from the back to watch the front.” Immediately they do as he commands.

  The barber begins to sweep the floor, while Master Chen is relaxing. When the back door opens, and voices sound out a third time, Yung angrily jerks the towel from his face and finds himself glaring into the barrel of a cocked pistol.

  “Yung Lin Chen, you are under arrest,” Chase snaps. One pistol is pointed at the barber the second is shoved into Yung’s cheek. “Get up, slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Yung leans forward to get up, “Who are you?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he tells the barber to leave.

  "It's my lunchtime anyway," he snorts. "Don't make a mess!" He runs out back just as Jack rushes inside.

  "Cuff him, Jack," Chase orders and this time both pistols are pushing into Yung's face. Jack moves over and jerks both arms behind his back. "I've dreamt of this moment," Chase said softly.

  “I am U. S. Marshall Chase Rivers, you are under arrest for kidnapping, murder, rape, and whatever else I can find on you.”

  Yung just smiles as Jack begins pulling out his weapons. He tosses them into the sink before finding the pistols. He tucks them into his belt and nods to Chase.

  “Ah, the infamous Marshall, where is my Irish prize at? I have waited a long time to meet Miss Bronn…” Chase punches him, knocking him to the ground.

  “You aren’t fit to speak her name,” he turns to Jack, “tie his legs up and gag him.” Rev enters and helps Jack carry Yung to the waiting covered wagon. Chase opens the door and just as they push Yung inside a gunshot rings in the alleyway. Everyone drops to the ground in horror. Chase stares in disbelief at Yung. Half his face is missing, and the wagon is filled with his twitching, bleeding body.

  Rev drags him down and around behind the wagon. “We have to go!”

  “What the hell?” Jack roars.

  Davis snaps, “Shooter on the roof!”

  “How far to the U.S. Marshalls office?” Jack asked.

  “Five blocks, everyone will be busy with the fires,
it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Leave the body, Marshall!” A voice calls out.

  Chase stands slowly with his hands raised and stares in shock at the barber, with fifteen men dressed in complete black with their faces covered. “What is happening?”

  "Retribution. You go now."

  Chase nods and snaps an order out not willing to put his friends in greater danger. They all dive back inside the barbershop and rush out front. Outside the sound of sirens and people rushing to and fro greet them. Fire spreads quickly in a city this size, and they disappear into the crowd easily.

  “What now?” Davis asked.

  “We report this, and then we go home. My wife is waiting,” Chase can’t help but grin.

  Epilogue

  Bronnah helps Harris clean the instruments before returning to the small large she's been staying in. His family welcomed her with open arms, and after the first week, she insisted on helping Harris with his duties. As a doctor, the work never ends, and her days and nights are dragging since Chase left.

  Chase watches her walking back to the house and steps out onto the porch. These past few months have been hell, but he’s about to make up for lost time. He waits for it, the moment she lifts her fairy eyes and sees him. Tears fill, and she breaks into a run, calling his name. Chase leaps from the porch and catches her as she hurtles into his arms.

  His kiss steals her breath, and when at last they come up for air, he laughs with joy when she asks, "Have ya finally come home to me, then?"

  “Aye, my love. I’m home for good.” Bronnah has eyes only for Chase. She doesn’t see them behind him until she speaks.

  “Bronnah?” Her mother calls out. They step out of the house, first her Mother, then her Father, followed by her brother, Patrick. Chase steps aside as she gasps, “Da?” No one moves for an instant until Bronnah’s legs give out. She collapses, and everyone moves at once. Her father catches her before she hits the ground and lifts her in a hug.

  “I never dared dream, Bronnah girl, that I’d look into your eyes once more,” he weeps, unashamed of his emotion. Her mother grabs her as she calls her name, “Ma!”