by Marla Monroe
Men of the Border Lands 12
Their Border Lands Freedom
Lyssa Truesdale has been a prisoner for seven years before one stranger sets her free and another offers the safety of a family as their women. With a world gone crazy and women only a commodity, she believes they are her best chance at survival, but can she trust them?
Wade Cresswell and Stanton York don’t really know each other very well, but agree to share Lyssa to ensure her freedom and to keep her by their side. Stanton’s lived in the city with few skills relevant to a harsher way of life. Wade was a rancher, working with his hands all his life. Together they provide the safety and security Lyssa needs as they look for a home. Finding a community that will accept them seems impossible with so much ground to cover, but their lives and their hard won freedom depends on it.
Genre: Futuristic, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Science Fiction
Length: 49,841 words
THEIR BORDER LANDS FREEDOM
Men of the Border Lands 12
Marla Monroe
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
THEIR BORDER LANDS FREEDOM
Copyright © 2014 by Marla Monroe
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-853-9
First E-book Publication: June 2014
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
I’ve made some awesome friends over the years and treasure each and every one of you. You’ve all added to my life with your unique take on things and the way you lift me up when I need it the most. I have, by far, the best readers in the world. Thank you for your support and believing in the worlds I’ve written about. I hope that some part of what I write will make you smile when you need it and give you the courage to be yourself and embrace what makes you happy. Thank you.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
THEIR BORDER LANDS FREEDOM
Men of the Border Lands 12
MARLA MONROE
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
“Get your ass out here and fix him,” Arnold bellowed. He unlocked the cell door and threw it open, staring hard at her.
“You don’t have to yell at me. I’m right here,” Lyssa yelled right back as she stood up and walked out of the place that had been her home for so long that she couldn’t even remember when she’d been taken.
“Shut the fuck up and do what you’re told.” Her jailer shoved her toward the doorway and out into the hall that led to the front room of the old jailhouse.
At one time, it had been a fairly decent facility for a small town. Now it was dark and dank, in serious need of cleaning and some repair work. Lyssa knew she was in what was now called Barter Town, but it had been called Harrison and was located in Sioux county of Nebraska. Now the place was nothing but the home of thieves, murderers, and those they’d enslaved to do their bidding. She was one of them.
Before the Year of Catastrophes, Lyssa had been a nurse practitioner working in Dallas at Parkland Hospital, a well-known charity facility. She’d loved her work, feeling as if she was making a difference and giving back some of what had been given to her. Now she was taking care of mostly criminals and the poor women they’d captured for their brothels.
As she walked into the much lighter main room of the old jailhouse, she spotted several men standing around with guns talking. That wasn’t all that unusual when she was called on to fix someone, but the obviously out-of-place man standing near the exam table now holding someone did look out of place. For one thing, he had on worn, but obviously expensive, slacks and an oxford button down shirt. No one dressed like that these days. He also had several rings on his fingers and a necklace just showing at his neck. Of course the way his eyes kept darting toward the crowd of men standing close to the door screamed nervous and out of place without the other clues clinging to him.
At a prod with the business end of a rifle against her back, Lyssa walked over toward the stretcher to see what she had to deal with. Usually it was either a knife wound or a gunshot. Today, it looked like a good old-fashioned beat down had taken place and the man lying on the stretcher hadn’t fared so well. She winced at the swelling that dominated his face. She couldn’t tell much about what he looked like with all of the damage, but she felt for him. If he hadn’t been unconscious, he’d have been in a lot of pain.
Looking tow
ard the strange man standing a good eight feet away, she frowned at him. “Who is he, and how did he end up like this?”
“I’m not sure who he is, but they were going to end up killing him if I hadn’t stopped them,” he said, glancing over at the group of men still milling around by the door.
She looked him up and down, not seeing any sign that he’d stepped in and broken up the fight. Though he wasn’t someone to dismiss lightly, the stranger wearing the ritzy clothes couldn’t have possibly stopped all of those men from beating on the one she was tending to without at least a few blows to show for his efforts. There didn’t appear to be a mark on his body. His broad shoulders and wide chest tapered down to a narrow waist without any sign of a pooched belly from lack of exercise.
“Somehow I don’t believe that. I would think you would show a little wear and tear from the experience,” she replied with a snort.
Lyssa continued looking over the unconscious man’s body for serious injuries. So far he didn’t appear to have any bullet or knife wounds she hadn’t immediately seen. His abdomen appeared soft and non-distended. In fact, he had washboard abs that made her pussy grow damp when she ran her hands over them.
“I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not much good in a fight, but I still got them off of him, didn’t I?” the man huffed out with a frown.
“What did you do, throw money at them?” she asked with a snort.
Lyssa washed off the blood and dirt from the man’s face and head, searching for bumps and sunken places to indicate a depressed skull fracture. It dawned on her that the stranger hadn’t answered her. She looked up then smirked at his guilty expression.
“You did. You offered them money or something of value to get them to leave him alone. Why did you do it if you didn’t know him?” she asked.
“He stood up for me when they accused me of cheating,” he admitted.
“Shut the fuck up, city boy. She doesn’t have to know how he got like that to treat him. You’re getting what you wanted. You should leave now,” Arnold snarled at him.
“Not until I know he’s going to be okay. That was the deal.” For a self-proclaimed wimp, the man didn’t back down.
Lyssa hid her smile and continued examining the man in her care. She couldn’t help but wonder what his name was. She was rather enjoying the chance to explore his body with her bare hands. Even though she knew she should feel guilty over ogling him when he wasn’t able to protest, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring his buff appearance.
“My name’s Stanton, Stanton York,” the stranger told her.
“I’m Lyssa. What are you doing in Barter Town? Forgive me for being rude, but you don’t look like you belong here.”
“I don’t. I was on a bus bringing people to The Border Lands to start over when it had to stop for engine trouble. They’re waiting on parts before we can continue on the journey,” he said.
“To where?” she asked, gaping at him.
The only thing farther west was desolate lands, and farther north it got damn cold in winter. You had to be able to tough it out here to make it. Stanton didn’t appear able to set up a tent with instructions, much less build a fire or hunt for food. What was the man thinking?
“The end of the line. Supposedly there’s a settlement about five hours from here where people are revitalizing the small community there. That’s what I’m looking for, a place to settle down and live simply.”
“I hadn’t heard about it. Why did you leave wherever you came from?” she asked as she sewed up a small cut on her patient’s scalp.
“It’s too dangerous to raise a family back east. There are too many people holding up in the few viable cities that are left. Crime is rampant, and women aren’t safe in their own homes,” he said.
“Tell me about it,” she mumbled then gritted her teeth.
“You almost done with that bastard? I’m hungry,” her jailer whined.
“Almost,” she sighed. “He’s got a concussion and some bruised ribs. He needs to rest for the next few days.”
“He can sleep it off in the cell next to yours, Doc.” Arnold and the men with him all laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
“Why are you in a cell?” Stanton asked with a frown.
“They took me from my home in Texas and brought me here where I was sold to Arnold over there. Instead of using me as one of their pleasure slaves, I managed to bargain with him to be their doctor. I’m a nurse practitioner, so I’m pretty damn useful to the bastard,” she said in a slightly softer voice.
“Shut the hell up, bitch. Finish fixing him up so we can get him moved,” her captor said.
“He goes free once he wakes up. That was the deal,” Stanton said, stepping closer to the other man.
“Fine with me. I don’t have no use for him. Are you satisfied now?” Arnold demanded.
“I guess. I’m coming back tomorrow before I leave to be sure he’s still doing okay. I’ll give you the rest of the money then.” Stanton turned to walk through the door, but one of the other men milling around grabbed him by the arm.
“Hold up there, fancy pants. We want our money now,” the man said.
“I gave half of it to your friend Arnold over there. I’ll give the other half to him when I see that this man is recovering and going free. It’s the best you’re going to get. If you do anything to me now, you’ll never see your money.”
Lyssa smiled to herself as she finished applying a bandage to her patient’s head. She had to give it to Stanton. He wasn’t stupid, just naïve and a little green around the edges. If he lived long enough, he might just make it out there.
“Let him go, Freddy,” Arnold snarled. “You be back here by nine in the morning, or I’m getting rid of him. You hear me?”
“I’ll be here,” Stanton said. He looked over at Lyssa and opened his mouth as if to say something, but he just shook his head and turned and walked away.
Lyssa sighed. What had he been about to say? Why did it even matter to her anyway? She was stuck where she was until her usefulness was gone or until Arnold got tired of her and decided to sell her to someone else. She wasn’t sure which scenario to wish for. Sometimes the devil you knew was better than the one you didn’t.
I wish Stanton would return in the morning and offer to buy me. Then this poor soul here would be free, and I’d be free, too. I might belong to Stanton, but something tells me he wouldn’t hurt me or sell my body for sex.
“Get your ass back down that hall, bitch,” Arnold shouted. “Freddy, you and Joe move him to the cell next to her.”
The two men grumbled but went to pick her patient up off the table by the arms and legs. They were going to do more damage if they transported him that way.
“Stop, right now. Roll the stretcher back there or you’re just going to make it worse. He’s got a head injury. You can’t carry him so that his head moves around like that,” she said, stomping her foot with her hands on her hips. “I swear, you’re all ignorant sometimes. Use some common sense.”
“I’ve had about enough of you,” Arnold said, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her out of the room. “If it wasn’t for my son, I’d have put you to work on your back instead of keeping you here.”
Lyssa knew she’d gone too far with her taunts, but she had so little recourse in her situation. She couldn’t hope to fight them. They’d subdue her in seconds. She was too short to be of much danger to them. The only reason Arnold hadn’t made good on his threats so far was because his son had severe asthma, and she had been the only one who was able to make up the solution that helped him when he was having trouble breathing. Every day she thanked the good Lord that she’d paid attention to her Natural Remedies instructor at school all those years ago. Thanks to that man, she was able to help a sick boy and save her virtue for what it was worth.
At thirteen, Arnold’s son was slowly growing out of the worst of his illness, but as long as the teenager remained with his dad, she had a chance of remaini
ng alive and essentially unharmed. What were a few slaps and bruises compared to the horrible life the poor women lived in the brothels? Sometimes she could see them pass when she was allowed out to take a shower or get some air. Men walked them around the town on leashes with collars wearing not much else. Not only was it humiliating, but it could be deadly when the weather was cold.
When they reached the cell she stayed in, Arnold released his hold and shoved her inside hard enough she lost her balance and fell to the floor, striking her cheek on the cot. Pain exploded through her head, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. She’d have a bruise, but she didn’t think the bone was broken. It took a lot for her to keep from crying. Her tears always got him excited, and she didn’t want him any more interested in her than he already was.
He sneered at her then watched as the other two men rolled the stretcher into the next cage. Less than a second later the two men walked back out, closing the door and locking it as well. They had obviously left him on the stretcher since they hadn’t been inside the cell long enough to have moved him or bothered to roll the stretcher out either. Without another look, the three men left, discussing dinner and pussy as if it were an everyday conversation.
She wished she could see in the other cell. Lyssa had a sudden thought that the poor man could wake up enough to move around and not realize he was on a stretcher off the ground. He could roll off and hurt himself again. There was nothing she could do about it though. Other than listen for him to make any noise, she was helpless to be of any further service to the man.
