Sons of Justice 6: A Painter Walks into an Irish Pub (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “What the hell?”

  “That information just cost you fifty G’s. I expect my cut. Get her before this afternoon at three.”

  The phone went dead, and Brain swallowed hard. He was going to have to do a snag and grab, and in the fucking daylight. Fuck. He wasn’t going to let the feds get away with this shit. He wanted his hundred grand, and if he didn’t bring Thylane to Yorkshire, then he wouldn’t get it. Those agents were a bunch of scum bags, lying and saying Yorkshire had left the country. See how they like explaining that to those soldiers of hers.

  He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the small leather case. He opened it and prepared the syringe. “I’m not taking any chances. The woman carries a gun, and she knows how to fight.” He’d watched her enough times at the dojo to know.

  He waited not so patiently knowing that he had to do this right and quickly. So when she came out of the building an hour later, holding her phone and looking frazzled, he had a feeling this was the right opportunity. He put the car into drive, happy for the tinted windows, and made sure he could make the move. When she turned around to face the building, her back to the road and curb, her hand waving into the air as if she were upset over the phone call she’d received, he made his move. He stepped on the gas, pulled up in front, jumped out of the car, and grabbed her, being sure to not only make her drop the phone but also stick her in the neck with the syringe. He got her into the car and sped off with her fighting him, but he didn’t expect the shot to his stomach by the gun she drew on him. He reacted, slammed his forearm against her mouth, and she fell back, hit her head, and slunk down into the seat. He could hardly breathe the pain was so bad, but he looked frantically around them, noticing that no one seemed to be looking or following, but then he saw the blood on the window. He’d struck her too hard.

  He sped out of the town and onto the highway, making the call.

  “I got her, but the bitch shot me.”

  “Can you get farther out of town? I’ll get someone there to meet you.”

  “Then what? You leave me to die, you asshole?”

  “I’ll get someone to you, and they will bring help for you, as well. Where are you now?” he asked, and Brian rambled off the location, feeling himself losing focus. He was going to die.

  “I’m not going to make it. I’m pulling off.”

  “No, no, you aren’t far enough.”

  “I can’t breathe.” He pulled off the side road and drove along the dirt path until he got to an area of trees and some kind of building. “I’m parked out back.” He then closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

  He then called Yorkshire.

  “I have her, but she shot me.”

  “Where the fark are ya?”

  He told him.

  “But your guy is coming. I called him.”

  “I’ll take care of it. How is she?”

  “Drugged.”

  “I’m not far,” Yorkshire said and then ended the call.

  Brian leaned his head back to rest, looked down at all the blood seeping from his belly. He wasn’t going to live. He fumbled with his phone, knowing that these men were disloyal, but he was playing more than one angle. Whichever one got him the most money. He sent all the information he had to Oscar and asked him to open it only if something happened to him. Then he slammed the phone against the steering wheel several times, making it break, before he took out the SD card and put it in his mouth and swallowed it.

  * * * *

  “Where is she? What do you mean she’s missing and her car is still there?” Finlin yelled into the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” Pisces asked.

  Finlin covered the receiver with his hand. They were waiting for Thylane to get home from work. She was only working until three. “Thylane, she is missing, and her car is still in the parking lot. Cesar and Tobias are there, and they found her cell phone on the ground.”

  “What the fuck. Someone took her? Who?” Pisces asked.

  “Look at her cell phone, Cesar. Who was she last on with, does it say?” he asked.

  Finlin listened as Pisces explained to Stack and Rusty what was going on.

  “Agent Ferrow. She was on with him.”

  “I’ll call him right now. You see if there are any cameras covering that location and get a hold of them,” Finlin said.

  “Tobias is on that already. We’ll find her, Finlin. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Thirty minutes later Finlin and his team, along with Spartan, John, Cesar, J.T., and the crew were kicking down the agent’s door at the office and demanding answers.

  Finlin had Ferrow by his throat. “What did you do? What the fuck happened to Thylane? Who took her?” he demanded to know.

  Ferrow was shaking, the slimy weasel.

  “You can’t do this. I’m a federal agent,” he yelled.

  Finlin shoved him into his seat. “And I’m a member of Sons of Justice and have more goddamn power than some fuck-up federal agent. Now start fucking talking. You know where she is and what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know who took her. Probably someone working with Yorkshire.”

  “From Ireland?” Cesar asked.

  “Yorkshire may or may not still be in the U.S.”

  “What?” Finlin roared.

  “You knew this. You fucking knew Yorkshire was still here and you let us, let Thylane believe that she was safe?” Cesar yelled at him.

  He didn’t respond. He just glared at them.

  “Tell us what you know, or I swear you’ll get an inside view on how we interrogate criminals,” Spartan demanded, but Ferrow just sat there all smug.

  “He was going to use her, threaten her with her father taking a fall for these deliveries he had shipped overseas to Ireland,” Agent Rogers blurted out.

  “Shut up, Rogers. They don’t deserve to know. This is my case, my arrest, and no one but me will get credit for it. No one,” he yelled out.

  Spartan shoved him in the head. “You self-centered asshole. You were going to set her up as bait to draw in Yorkshire, a known terrorist killer who slaughters his victims?” Spartan asked raising his voice.

  “Whatever I needed to do to get my hands on Yorkshire. She’s just some woman he wants to fuck. Nothing more.”

  Finlin punched him in the face and knocked him out.

  “Asshole,” he said then looked at Rogers.

  “You fucking better tell us everything you know,” he said to him, and they looked around at the other agents.

  “Where’s Agent Plankin?” John asked.

  “He left an hour ago,” Rogers said, and Finlin looked at Pisces, Stack, and Rusty.

  “Perhaps that’s one of Yorkshire’s informants?” Pisces said.

  “What?” Rogers asked.

  “Fuck,” Cesar added.

  “We’re on it,” J.T said, and he and his team pulled out their cell phones and started making calls.

  “Sit your ass down and explain,” Finlin demanded, trying not to think about the danger Thylane was in and whether or not Yorkshire had her in his possession already.

  An hour later, things were worse than before.

  “There was a homicide. A woman found murdered and cut up. A hatchet next to her body right outside of Ausberry in a motel. Apparently Ferrow knew this,” J.T. informed them.

  “He did know about it. Roth was with him on that,” Rogers said.

  Roth nodded his head. “He planned on hiding that information so you all wouldn’t think Thylane was in any danger. Then he planned on threatening her and knew she would help.”

  “Our men should be here any minute for him. He won’t see the light of day where he’s going,” Spartan said and then looked at Finlin. “What’s the plan?”

  “First, we check all the flights heading out of here to Ireland. Private airstrips first, he can’t travel commercial with a woman fighting to get free,” Finlin said.

  “That’s if she’s conscious. We don’t know. If these men who took
her, if it was Yorkshire, then certainly he would know her capabilities,” Pisces added.

  “Drugs. I would think he’d want her sedated to make traveling easier,” Cesar said.

  “Fuck,” Stack stated, running his fingers through his hair.

  “We got something,” Spartan said, talking on his phone. He wrote down the address and ended the call.

  “An abandoned car, black-tinted windows, matching license plate from the surveillance video. Blood on the passenger window and a dead man from a gunshot to the belly in the driver’s side,” Spartan informed them.

  “Thylane. She must have gotten off a shot,” Rusty said.

  “Let’s go. It’s our only lead,” Finlin said.

  “Not really. I’ve got something, too. More info is coming in,” Cole said to them as they headed toward the door.

  “What do you have?” Spartan asked.

  “Charlie Soyer, the guy who not only got Thylane the job at Foley’s and also set up her father’s company with those illegal deliveries, also has connections to a militia group in Ireland that is at war with Yorkshire’s group.”

  “What? I don’t get it. Why would he want Thylane involved and in the middle of this? How does he even know who she is or that Yorkshire would take an interest in her?” Finlin asked.

  “We’re looking into her father, too, Finlin. It isn’t looking good,” Luke said to him.

  “What the fuck?” Stack said, and they headed out of the building as more information came through.

  “Get a hold of her father to question him,” Finlin ordered.

  “Luke, Cole, you two go and question him. Get the truth,” Spartan ordered.

  * * * *

  When they got to the crime scene, Stack was pacing. “That’s her blood on the side of the window. She’s hurt. How badly we don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “Drugged, too. We found this,” Tobias said and held up a syringe in an evidence bag.

  Stack was fuming mad. “She could be anywhere. Some go-between place or something. It’s been hours now and nothing.”

  “We’ll get word soon. We’ll get information as we put out feelers with our resources,” Finlin added.

  “I got something, but it makes matters worse for Thylane’s father,” J.T. said and walked closer.

  “What? What did you find out?” Stack asked as they gathered around.

  “This guy Brian Orvin was working for both Yorkshire and for Soyer, who, by the way, left on a flight to Switzerland an hour ago.”

  “Fuck,” Pisces said.

  “Not to worry, he’ll have an army of people waiting for him when he gets off that plane. The government in Ireland just launched a full investigation into these shipments that went out through Thylane’s father’s company. They were filled with guns and ammunition, as well as money. All to be delivered to a warehouse owned and operated by the leader of this rogue army. Yorkshire’s enemies. Apparently, through recorded phone conversations, Thylane’s father was seeking revenge against Yorkshire and Hopper for their involvement in his brother’s death and hostage situation of his daughter and niece. It’s believed that Soyer convinced her father that he could avenge his brother’s death by taking out Hopper and Yorkshire not only financially but by destroying their army,” J.T. told them.

  “Holy crap, that’s a whole lot of lying, double crossing, and conniving on all their parts,” Rusty said.

  “Your sources, do they believe Thylane is involved too?” Spartan asked.

  “No way. She can’t be,” Stack stated.

  “He says she isn’t involved. Actually, my source knows her and the family well. He’s the only one other than the agents that raided the place where she was held hostage who knew that Thylane killed the two men,” J.T told them.

  “It still doesn’t explain Yorkshire’s interest in Thylane. Could it simply have been her beauty and painting?” Cesar asked.

  “Figuring out exactly how these men operated, I’d say that Soyer knows she killed the two men that day and was going to use that information to get Yorkshire all riled up and focus on Thylane, but he didn’t use that card. If he had, she wouldn’t have made it out of the US. Yorkshire would have killed her,” J.T. said.

  “Our contact has a lot of shit on the situation, including this guy Brian and his involvement. He’s filtering through everything now and is pinpointing where Yorkshire might go if he gets out of here to Ireland with Thylane,” J.T. added.

  “This guy can be trusted?”

  “He had Brian thinking he was using his government credentials and connections to make money and get paid for information. Brian thought he was a friend and confidant. So much so that, when Brian was dying from the gunshot wound, he sent files to this guy for him to open and do what was needed to be done. I’d say from what he told me, there are going to be a hell of a lot more arrests and Yorkshire and his army will be destroyed forever. The worse part is that those two men Thylane killed, they’re Yorkshire’s cousins, and if he knows that, then Thylane is going to suffer.”

  Stack rubbed along his jaw and mouth, scratching his beard and feeling sick and angry. “We have to find her. Can this guy help and locate them?”

  “He believes so. We need to be ready to take off and head out,” J.T. said.

  “Then let’s organize a team. Have more men ready than necessary and then adjust accordingly when better details arrive. We’ll get to Thylane and end this crap once and for all,” Spartan said, and Stack looked at his team.

  Their woman was in serious danger, and they were her only hope of surviving.

  Chapter Ten

  Yorkshire was in awe of her beauty, and each day she struggled to get free, to fight him with little strength. He had no choice but to sedate her, knowing that as time went on and he broke her down, she would submit to him fully. His time to touch her, explore her curves was done while she rested or when she was so sedated she was delirious. A week had passed, and now week two, and he was frustrated. He wanted a companion, not a zombie. He decreased the dosage, making it so that she could walk, even talk but in slurred speech.

  Right now they sat on the beach in Kinsale, his guards scattered around him, though he didn’t think they were necessary. Soyer’s plan was destroyed, and as he’d gotten off the plane in Switzerland, he had an army of international agents ready to arrest him and take down his entire operation. The guns and money he’d shipped off to Ireland to his so-called army had been intercepted by customs officials. Thylane’s father, the foolish asshole who sought revenge against Yorkshire and Hopper, wound up being arrested on numerous charges and would be in jail for quite some time.

  Yorkshire stroked Thylane’s hair. “I’ll take care of you, Thylane. You don’t need your father when you have me.”

  She stared off at the water as she lay on her side on the blanket on the beach. He stroked her thigh, lifting her dress.

  He’d won. Even Hopper lost out and had been caught before he could escape. Yorkshire shifted his gun in the waistband of his pants. He pulled it out and placed it on the blanket so he could cuddle up against Thylane and do a little exploring. He lowered down, pressed her to her back, and stared down into the blank gaze of her green eyes. They weren’t sparkling or filled with life like when she’d been painting in Foley’s. They were dull, shadowed by the drugs running rampant in her system, making her reflexes slow. He thought he had cut back too much and that she might have enough strength to resist him or push him away, but the last two days it seemed she was weak and compliant. Perhaps she realized this was her destiny and where she would spend the rest of her life.

  He ran his plan up under her dress, an outfit he’d picked out, dressed her in when she passed out. He’d washed her, and she clung to him, gripped him with her feminine hands and stared at him. He stole quick kisses, suckled along her breast, and had a feel of her wet cunt. As his hand moved upward, he lowered his mouth to her lips and kissed her.

  “It’s just you and I, Thylane. No one else matters. The dang
er is over. Revenge fell into my lap, and now we have one another.”

  She lifted her hand and pressed it against his, trying to push it off her hip. He tightened his hold.

  “No, Thylane. You will obey and accept my touch, my command. You’re my trophy, meant to be mine because you survived. I let you live instead of ordering your death when my men held you hostage.”

  She squinted at him.

  “Why? Why did you order us to be hurt? Why kill my uncle?” she asked, her voice shaking and her speech slurred.

  He stroked her cheek and used his thumb to press against her lower lip.

  “He tried to rip me off. I’m too powerful for that. My soldiers adore me and know I bring them money, power, and freedom. All loose ends are tied. Everyone who double-crossed me is dead or behind bars. Even the agents who caused my cousins’ deaths are dead, too.” He stroked her jaw.

  “Cousins?” she asked.

  “Logan and Connor. They were my cousins, and they weren’t supposed to die. They were supposed to live.” He saw a change in her eyes, and her breathing grew rapid. He slid his leg over hers and between her legs, stroked her hair from her cheeks, and lowered down to kiss her. He plunged his tongue deeply, and then he felt her push a hand against his belly.

  * * * *

  Thylane was shocked to learn that Logan and Connor were Yorkshire’s cousin. She hated this man. How he drugged her and kept her so weak she couldn’t fight but only submit. She’d pretended weakness the last two days, had felt her body getting stronger, but she couldn’t let him know. He kept lessening the dosage, needing her to be conscious, and she kept pretending weakness, exhaustion. It helped her ensure he didn’t rape her, but she couldn’t stop the touching he did. It took so much willpower not to attack and to wait for the opportunity to kill this bastard.

  She knew when she did that she would die. That his men, his soldiers would kill her. She wanted to live to see her men again. To hold them, kiss them, and love them, but it wasn’t meant to be. Her father had taken the wrong path leading to revenge and ultimately imprisonment. Yorkshire had told her everything. He released her lips just as the sound of gunfire erupted around them. He went to stand, seeing and hearing multiple rounds go off by the water and the opened land leading up to the house. It was past sundown and getting darker and darker.