Alpha Possessed
The Dixon Brothers Book One
Olivia T. Turner
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Epilogue
Don’t be shy. Come Follow Me…
Also by Olivia T. Turner
Become Obsessed with OTT
Copyright© 2021 by Olivia T. Turner.
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Edited by Karen Collins Editing
Cover Design by Olivia T. Turner
To red wine,
I wouldn’t have survived 2020 without you.
Chapter One
Mary
I head over to the bar like I’m just another one of the Belgrade Springs locals, but my wobbly feet in these new cowboy boots, the designer purse slung over my shoulder, and the hanging tag that I forgot to rip off my spotless flannel shirt is all threatening to give me away.
Luckily, none of the locals at the Rub-A-Dub-Pub are paying any attention to me, from the hot guys playing pool in the back, to the hot bartender pouring a beer, to the three hot guys at the table by the empty fireplace.
Man, there are a lot of hot guys here. Maybe I should do a story on that.
I suck in a deep breath as I take a few more wobbly steps in these boots that are digging into my ankles.
Ignore the hot guys and focus, Mary. You have a notorious mercenary killer to catch.
“Oomph,” I grunt as I sit down at the bar beside a lady in her forties who’s drinking alone. “What a day, right?”
She raises her eyebrow as she looks at me skeptically and then turns back to her beer without a word.
“I love this song,” I say, nodding my head to the country tune belting out of the jukebox. They still make those?
“Who sings it?” she asks with narrowed eyes.
“That… guy,” I say with a cool, nonchalant, totally-not-panicking nod of my head. “The one with the cowboy hat who always sings about his truck.”
“Colton Bradley,” she says with a nod and a smile. “I love him too. He’s so hot.”
“Totally,” I say as I scooch over to my new friend. “Like the guys in here. Holy crap, they’re gorgeous. What are you doing sitting alone?”
She looks around the bar with a sigh. “You know the guys around here… They only have eyes for the one.”
“Right,” I say with a nod. “Which one?”
Her eyes narrow on me. “You from around here?”
I’m about to choke out a lie when the bartender comes to save me.
“What can I get you?” the big man with a huge bear paw tattoo on his thick neck asks. He’s enormous. I have to lean my head back to look into his light blue eyes. He should be on an NFL field dolling out concussions instead of behind this bar in the middle of nowhere Montana.
“I’ll take a white wine,” I say. Shit. The bartender and my new friend are both looking at me like I’ve just committed a cardinal sin. “If you have any…”
He leans down and opens the small fridge in the counter. I gulp when I see the hulking size of his back muscles through his shirt.
“I think there’s one back here,” he says as he pulls a wine bottle out that looks like it was opened sometime in the eighties with the missing label and orange color. “Want to try it?”
“I’ll just have what she’s having,” I say with a bad taste in my mouth. “And another one for my friend.”
I get out two twenties as he pours the beers and drops them in front of us.
“Here you go,” I say as I try to hand the bills over.
“What’s this?” He’s not taking them. Why isn’t he taking them? Do they have their own currency in this mountain town or something? Are people paying with cartons of eggs or bags of grains?
“Money… Did I not get enough?”
I’m pulling out another twenty when he laughs. “It’s two-fifty a beer lady. You owe me five bucks.”
“Oh,” I say as my cheeks start to get red. “Right.”
I pay for the beers, give him a five dollar tip, and stuff the rest of the money back into my purse.
“You’re definitely not from around here,” the woman says as she finishes her beer and takes the new one. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Where I come from, these beers would cost thirteen bucks each.”
“And where’s that? The moon?”
“It might as well be compared to here,” I say with a laugh. “New York City.”
“Ahhh,” she says with a nod. “I was wondering why your boots didn’t have a lick of mud on them.”
The whole pretending to be a local angle isn’t working, so I might as well be honest. My new friend doesn’t look like someone who appreciates being lied to.
“I’m Mary,” I say as I offer my hand.
“Lorraine.”
We shake hands and then settle in with our beers. Whoa, that’s strong…
I might have been better off going with the orange swill from the back of the fridge.
“You here on vacation?” Lorraine asks.
“I’m actually here for work,” I say. “I’m a reporter. Tracking down a big story…”
“Hmm,” she grunts as she takes another sip.
“Perhaps you can help me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe… Do you know a lot of people here in town?”
“I work the till at the grocery store, honey. I know everybody.”
Jackpot.
I take a nervous breath. “What about the Dixon boys?”
She locks eyes on me and I swallow hard. “What about them?”
“I heard they live around here.”
“You heard right.”
“Can you tell me about them?”
“I don’t know,” she says as she gets to the bottom of her mug. “My throat is kinda parched. Might be hard to talk.”
I wave over the bartender again and get Lorraine another two beers. After a few more sips, her tongue gets nice and loose and she starts answering all of my questions.
“Who are they?”
She leans in close and starts whispering. “They rented the Crawford Ranch on the west side of town. Four of them in total. Three of them are brothers. Jacob is the oldest, Easton is the middle, and Cameron is the youngest. All smoking hot by the way.”
“What about the fourth?”
“That’s Roman. He’s the cousin. Apparently, their fathers were twins. He looks just as much like a brother as the other ones do.”
“Hmm,” I say as I try to remember every detail. I don’t think she’s going to be as forthcoming if I pull out a pen and paper to start writing down everything she says.
“And what do you know about them?”
“You mean if they’re single?” She huffs out a breath. “Yeah, they’re single, but you know their type… Only interested in that special girl who will knock the manure off their boots.”
Their type? What
the hell is she talking about? Uh oh. I think I might have gotten her drunk…
“I was excited when I heard that four hot bachelors moved in, but no luck for ole Lorraine. I was hoping to see that starstruck look staring at me when one of them looked my way, but I might as well have been a plant for all the excitement there was in their eyes. They just paid for their food and left the grocery store.”
Yup. Definitely drunk.
“What about Dylan Burton?” I ask, feeling my pulse start to race as I drop the name. I stare at her face looking for any signs that she knows the notorious man—eyes widening, a jerk of the head, a sharp intake of breath, anything.
She just stares back at me. “Dylan, you said? No. Is he single?”
“I’m not sure… What about Operation Storming? Hear anything about that?”
“Who got an operation?” she asks as she starts to slur her words. “I had an operation last year to remove an ingrown toenail. It was disgusting. Want to see the scar?”
“No!” I shout a little too loud as she reaches for her cowboy boot. “I’m fine, really.”
She shrugs as she gets back to working on the third beer I bought her. She’s about five sips from being too drunk to give me any more reliable information. It’s time to wrap this up.
“So, the Dixon boys are on the west side of town, you said. Where exactly can I find them?”
“You can find them right there,” she says as she leans back in her stool and points to a table of three huge men by the empty fireplace. “Except for Cameron. Don’t know where he is.”
My heart starts pounding as I look at the men. I came all the way from New York looking for these guys. They could be the reason my story gets the cover of the magazine or be the reason why I have to tell my editor that it’s not going to work out.
I can’t afford to do that again. I’m on my last career leg with this story. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be handing my resume to Lorraine to work at the grocery store with her.
“Those are the Dixon boys?” I say in a breathless tone as I stare at them in wonder. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as cows love opera.”
“What? I don’t know what that means.”
“Nobody does,” she says with another sip. “But that sure as shit is them.”
I call the hulking bartender over and order four more beers. One for Lorraine and three for the guys in front of the fireplace.
My arm is burning as I pick up the three heavy mugs and slide off the barstool.
I have it all pictured in my head… I’m going to strut over there in my sexy new cowboy boots and hold up the beers as I get to the table.
I’ll say, ‘hellooo boys,’ in a long southern drawl. They’ll look up at the hot new girl in awe and kick out a chair. I’ll place the beers on the table and slide a mug in front of each man as they gawk over my cleavage. Then, I’ll sit down, cross my legs all confidently, and they’ll tell me everything I need to know.
“Good luck,” Lorraine says with a grin.
“I don’t need luck,” I say as I hold my shoulders back and start walking. “I’m a professional.”
Oh shit, these are heavy.
My arm starts to shake before I’m a third of the way there and these damn boots keep making my ankles wobble.
“Sorry!” I say when I spill some beer down a poor guy’s back.
“Watch it!” he growls.
Oh God, I gotta put these down!
My hand is aching and my arm is trembling as I hurry to the table. I trip on someone’s coat and I scream as I stumble the rest of the way like an out of control drunk girl in heels. The momentum sends me flying into the empty chair at their table and the beer shoots out all over the huge guy in front of me.
“Whoa!” the two others shout as they jump out of their chairs. Beer pours all over the table like a tidal wave, soaking their laps.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!”
The oldest brother, Jacob Dixon, is glaring at me in his seat, completely drenched while the other two guys, Roman and Easton, burst out laughing as beer drips down from his face.
I quickly place the empty mugs on the table and grab a couple of napkins from another table. They’re only cocktail napkins and hardly do anything as I rush over and try to absorb the beer from his chest.
“Lady!” he growls when I’m approaching his crotch, frantically trying to clean up my mess. He grabs my wrist with a firm grip. “That’s enough!”
I step back and gulp as he stands up, towering over me. It’s the first time I really look at these three guys. They’re huge. I thought the bartender was big, but he’s got nothing on these three behemoths.
I’d be scared even if I didn’t know they used to be military rangers turned killer mercenaries.
I hear a snorting laugh and when I glance over at Lorraine, she’s shaking her head and smirking. “City girls,” she mutters. “Think they’re so damn posh.”
“Those beers were for you guys,” I say as I glance at the empty mugs.
“Well, you really gave it to us,” Roman says with a deep laugh. He’s a big guy with a dark beard and a black beanie on his head. His right arm is covered in a tattoo sleeve and his left is just skin.
“Are you sure that round wasn’t on him?” Easton says with a laugh as he points at Jacob. “Because it is now.”
“Let me make it up to you,” I say as the bartender comes over with a rag. He doesn’t look too happy at me as he starts to clean it up.
Remember the five dollar tip, I try to beam into his brain as he starts cleaning the table with an angry huff. It doesn’t work.
The three Dixon boys move to another table and my heart is in my throat as I follow them over. My pride should be sending me fleeing out of this bar, out of this town, out of this state, but my pocketbook is keeping me here. I really don’t want to lose my job. It’s all I have, as pathetic as that notion is.
“Four more beers please,” I say to the bartender as he starts wiping down a chair.
“Should I put them in sippy cups?” he asks with a glare.
I force out a nervous laugh and then sit down with the guys.
“What are you doing?” Jacob asks as he slides a hand through his wet hair. It makes it all foamy and slicked back.
“What do you mean?” I ask, pretending like a girl sitting at a table with three killers is a perfectly natural thing to do.
Jacob leans forward, glaring at me. “Why are you here?”
“Um…”
This is not going well at all. I’m the only dry one at the table. Easton and Roman didn’t get it too bad, but they still look like they peed their pants.
“Trying to make new friends?” I say with a wince.
Jacob grits his teeth as his fierce eyes bore into me. “Go. Away.”
I gulp as I stand up from the table, watching my career flush away like the spilled beer falling onto the floor.
I screwed up again. It’s over.
Chapter Two
Cameron
The streets are busy by Belgrade Springs standards as I park my pickup truck and step onto the sidewalk. It’s late enough in the evening that the families are leaving the restaurants at the same time as the single people are arriving for a night out, hoping to meet that special someone.
I know how they feel. I’ve been waiting for my mate since I got my first pube at thirteen years old.
I take a deep breath of the fresh mountain air as I look around at the adorable town with the cobblestone sidewalks and mom and pop shops.
Reflex kicks in and I look up at the roofs, checking for snipers. I take in the scene around me as a toddler holding her parents’ hands walks by me, squealing as they swing her over each crack in the sidewalk.
There’s an exit beside the barbershop. The alley leads onto the next street. So does the one beside the general store.
Insurgents could be hiding in that bordered up shop with the For Rent sign on it. I should stay on this side of the street.
I catch myself and take a deep breath. I don’t have to do this anymore.
That life is over.
I can reprogram my brain and be as carefree as any of these civilians walking by. Just another night on the town… No violence in sight.
I shake out my hands and head over to the bar. The guys are already there, probably three drinks in by now.
We drew straws and I got the short one, which meant I had to stay back to feed the horses and get them ready for the night.
“Hello,” an older man says as he passes with his wife. It’s all smiles around here.
This town is so sweet and welcoming. They have no idea how dark the world can be.
That man has no idea he just nodded at a trained killer.
Ex-trained killer, I have to remind myself.
The sun is starting to set and the stars are popping out. It’s a real show around these parts in the middle of the night. You don’t need a telescope to see it either. Up here around midnight, the galaxy is on fire with starlight.
I walk by the candy shop and the diner on my way to the bar. The firemen are out with no shirts on, cleaning the firetruck.
Fucking show-offs.
Can they be bigger attention whores?
My Kodiak perks up in my chest when I smell the scent of their grizzlies wafting over. He growls.
I should cross the street, but I don’t. There are three of them out and I would like a nice cold beer before I get into a fight, but I don’t want to show any sign of weakness.
We are the new bears in town after all.
The big one with the full back tattoo tosses his sponge into the bucket and struts over to the line on the sidewalk. He puffs his chest out and digs a fist into his palm as he stares me down.
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