The American Soldier Collection 5: The Greatest Fight of All (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “Amelia, are you okay?” Regan asked as she and Velma helped her to stand up.

  “Miss, are you okay? An ambulance is on the way,” some guy said, and Amelia hugged Regan and Velma.

  “Why do these things keep happening to me? Why?” Amelia closed her eyes as the pain began to set in.

  * * * *

  Amelia refused to go to the hospital to get checked over. She had a large bruise on her lower back after Tucker shoved her against the truck. Her lip was sore and slightly swollen and she had a large scrape from sliding down onto the ground.

  The police came and so did the cavalry. By the time she finished signing papers with the police officers along with Regan and Velma to press charges, the men had arrived. Included in the bunch were Jonas and his two brothers as well as Galen and his three brothers.

  “Amelia!” Amelia saw Ricky, Murphy, Brody, and Waylon coming toward them. She lowered her eyes and turned toward Regan. Regan placed an arm over her shoulder and Amelia pulled the blanket that the paramedic gave her tighter against her body. When the men saw her injuries, her torn skirt and cuts, they were going to flip out.

  “It will be okay,” Regan whispered.

  “I know. I just want to go home, Regan. My head is pounding,” Amelia said.

  “Amelia, are you okay?” Murphy asked as he turned her around.

  The instant he saw her bloody lip he scowled, his grip a little tighter on her arms.

  “Please, Murphy, I’m okay. I swear.”

  “Who did this?” Waylon raised his voice then looked around, as if the culprit would be standing there.

  “Tucker,” Regan said as Ricky pulled her into his arms and caressed her hair. Brody was holding Velma.

  “Amelia fought him off. He was trying to make Velma leave with him. His two friends were trying to get me to go, too. Amelia came out of the bathroom and stopped them. Then Tucker forced her from the building.” Regan was telling the story.

  “Forget it. It’s over. He’s in police custody. Let’s leave. Please. I want to go,” Amelia said, turning out of Murphy’s hold.

  They were talking behind her. She heard them, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to go home, shower, and get under the covers in bed. She could cover her head and drown out the sounds, the images, and the memories from her past. This reminded her of Mano. His “my way, and nothing else” attitude. When she disobeyed, he was forceful. He always hit something or her.

  She swallowed hard and jerked to the side when she felt hands on her waist.

  “Baby, it’s me. It’s only me,” Murphy stated.

  They got up into the truck. A glance out the window and she saw that Velma was being cared for by Jonas, and who Amelia assumed were his brothers. She was safe now. To the side she saw Waylon talking to Regan, and Regan was speaking a mile a minute as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was surrounded by four men, including Galen. Amelia figured that those were Galen’s brothers. Waylon then pointed at Jonas as if demanding he take care of Regan or something, and Jonas nodded his head as he kept an arm around her shoulder.

  The flashing lights and the disgusted faces all brought on a surge of emotions and memories she had forced behind her.

  Her home life had been no better than her love life at the time. Her brothers and her father were abusive in their own ways. She tightened her eyes, and when the door opened again, Ricky was climbing up in beside her.

  “Goddamn it, baby, this could have been a lot worse.” He pulled her closer. She cringed from the cut on her thigh and the injury on her lower back. It would surely be bruised by morning or even sooner.

  She snuggled into Ricky’s arms, remaining still and quiet as Murphy drove her home.

  * * * *

  Waylon and Brody drove in the SUV. He was so angry he felt his hands shaking. He wanted to hit something, someone, specifically Tucker, for what he had done.

  “That slimy bastard. I swear if I see that motherfucker anywhere around Amelia, Regan, and Velma, I’m going to rip his head off.”

  “Waylon, you need to calm down. Believe me, man, I feel the same fucking way right now. I can’t believe he attacked her. Do you think what the cops said was true? Do you think Tucker was high on something?”

  Waylon looked at Brody and released a deep sigh.

  “I don’t give a fuck. I’m just glad I scheduled to train here, or I wouldn’t even be here right now and instead too far away to see Amelia.”

  A beeping sound came from the purse he held on his lap.

  “What’s that?” Brody asked.

  Waylon reached into her purse and saw that her cell phone was vibrating.

  Glancing down he saw the phone light up and Regan’s name appear.

  “It’s Regan texting Amelia.”

  He looked at the message.

  What did you mean by these types of things are always happening to you?????

  “What does it say?” Brody asked and Waylon told him.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Brody added.

  Waylon felt entirely too on edge to be kept up in the cab of a vehicle right now. He wanted to hit his punching bag to let off some steam or something. He felt the anger and all his emotions getting the better of him. This was his problem. This was his burden, his weight upon his shoulders day in and day out.

  He scanned her other texts and saw the four returned texts from him to his brothers.

  “She group messaged us, saying that she missed us tonight. We shouldn’t have let her go out. She needs us.”

  “I know, Brody. I fucking feel the same way. She’s a beautiful woman. People take notice of her immediately, and that pisses me off to think that other men are hitting on her. If she’s with one of us, that won’t fucking happen,” Brody stated firmly.

  “What do you think the message from Regan means?”

  “I don’t know. We should ask her.”

  Waylon scanned up toward earlier texts and as he read the last one before Amelia texted him and his brothers, he felt ready to explode.

  “What the fuck?” He raised his voice. Brody immediately asked him what was wrong.

  “Some fucking guy texted her.”

  “What? Who?”

  “It’s not labeled. The area code is not from around here. I think it’s New York.”

  “What the fuck does it say?”

  “She lied to us. She’s involved with someone or at least was recently. He wants her back.” Waylon slammed his fist down on the dashboard.

  “What does it say, Waylon? Tell me now. If she’s playing us. My God, Waylon, if she is, I don’t know what I’ll do. I—”

  “The text from the guy says, ‘It’s not over. I’ll give you some time to think about us. But you will be mine again, Amelia. I’m not giving up.’”

  Waylon felt the pain in the pit of his stomach, but worse was the one in his heart. The pain in a place he thought was dead.

  “Maybe it’s not what it seems,” Brody said but sounded as if he were trying to convince himself of his own statement.

  “Maybe she’s just like most women. I’m getting to the bottom of this, immediately.”

  * * * *

  Amelia got out of the truck as Murphy opened the front door. Ricky helped her to go inside.

  “I’m going to go take shower.”

  She walked directly to her bedroom.

  “Amelia!” She heard Waylon’s voice and swiftly turned toward the bedroom door. He looked enraged. His eyes were dark and angry, his fists by his side, and Brody stood beside him, arms crossed and appearing just as pissed off. The tears hit her eyes as her belly quivered in fear. They blamed her for this.

  “Who the fuck is the guy?” Waylon yelled as he stomped toward her. Amelia was shocked at the anger in his voice as her back pressed against the wall behind her. The blanket dropped from her body. She saw Murphy and Ricky looking concerned and Brody was in a dead stare at her ripped skirt.

  “Don’t hit me. Please don’t hit me.” She cried and slowly lo
wered to the floor.

  “Who is he?” Waylon yelled from a few feet away.

  “Waylon, you’re scaring her,” Ricky stated as he moved toward her.

  “Get away. Get away from me, all four of you. Just go. Leave me now. I don’t want to see you.”

  “Who is he?” Brody asked this time.

  “What are you two talking about?” Ricky asked.

  “What the hell is going on with you two?” Murphy asked.

  Waylon passed over her cell phone and Amelia realized that they’d seen the message from Mano.

  “This fucking guy texted her,” Brody stated.

  She didn’t even hear their exchange of words between one another. All she could focus on was Waylon’s and Brody’s anger and the way Waylon looked as if he were going to strike her. Was he capable of that, or was she so scared because of her past, that she couldn’t give him, them, the chance.

  “I’m not going down this road again. I won’t be a punching bag. Get out. I don’t want to ever see you again. Get out!”

  “A punching bag? This guy struck you?” Waylon asked.

  “Explain it to us, Amelia. Help us understand,” Murphy whispered as he knelt down on the rug.

  She looked at him through blurry vision. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Pain is all I’ll ever feel.”

  Murphy reached for her and she felt so exhausted from crying, from the episode with Tucker, and now a confrontation with Waylon and Brody. She closed her eyes and he lifted her up and carried her to the bed.

  Murphy caressed the tears from her eyes, and Ricky placed a blanket over her body. They more than likely didn’t want to see the torn skirt.

  She shifted to her side and cringed.

  “You’re hurt,” Ricky said then knelt on the bed and reached for her camisole. He raised it up and cursed at the sight.

  “We need ice. Go get ice, Brody.”

  She caught sight of Waylon standing behind Murphy. He looked irate.

  “Look at me, Amelia,” Murphy whispered as he caressed her cheek. She wanted to be held by him, by them, so badly, she felt the tear roll down her cheek. But how could she? They obviously had anger issues, and Waylon and Brody looked capable of crossing the line. If one of them hit her, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

  “We’re all upset about what happened tonight. Perhaps if you explain the texts, Brody and Waylon can understand.”

  “They want to hit me, Murphy. If you and Ricky weren’t here, then Waylon and Brody would have hit me.”

  “That’s not true. I would never hit you,” Waylon stated firmly. “Fuck, Amelia, I’m so pissed off right now. Tell me who the guy is. Tell us what the hell is going on.”

  She stared at him. She wanted to believe that he would have never struck her, but she was having difficulty believing him. “I have the ice,” Brody said. As Ricky reached for the bag of ice, Brody shook his head. “Let me.”

  Ricky moved from the bed and Brody leaned closer to her. She looked at him, and when he reached for her, her breath hitched.

  He touched her cheek. He caressed it softly with his fingers.

  “I swear, baby. I swear that my brothers and I would never hit you or hurt you in any way. We care about you so much, Amelia. The thought that some guy tried to take you and that he hit you and hurt you enraged us. We saw a text message from Regan asking why you said these things keep happening to you.”

  “Then we read the one from the guy,” Waylon said next. “The one texting that he was giving you time and that things weren’t over between you two. We both lost it. We both feared that you were cheating on us. Please tell us what’s going on. We’ll work it out.”

  This was a moment of great risk for Amelia. She stared at the four men she had grown to love in such a short period of time. Her past was ruining her future, and either these men were for real and honestly wouldn’t hurt her or she was destined for a future of pain and heartache. It seemed to her that the greatest fight she ever had was within herself. Could she believe them? Could she trust that what they were saying that they felt was true?

  She shook with reservations and fear. She felt so hollow and lonely inside. She had been used to that sensation until these men came along. They filled that empty gap inside of her. They completed her. But she feared that could all be a lie.

  This was the fine line between believing in these men and the gut instinct telling her that they were sincere, or letting her fear, her distrust, destroy a future with them.

  “I need the ice on my back. I don’t want it to swell,” she whispered, Brody softly placed the bag of ice on her lower back where the bruise was.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  When she opened her eyes, they were all watching her.

  “His name is Mano. I am not cheating on you. I left him over a year ago, and until recently, he hadn’t pursued me. Before I left New York, I visited my friend Sylvia and her grandmother. His brother, Escala, saw me and called Mano. He tried to convince me to hang out, and of course I refused. He somehow got my cell phone number, and so he keeps texting and he called once. That’s it.”

  “Murphy.” Waylon said his brother’s name and Murphy moved out of the way and off the bed. Waylon sat down next to her. He reached for her chin and gently brushed his thumb across her skin, below the cut on her lip. “I swear, I would never hit you. I was angry, yes, and all my life I’ve used my fists to express my emotions. But, I would never hit you, Amelia. I promise you. Trust me please.”

  “Do you trust me, Waylon? Do you believe that I’m not involved with Mano?”

  “If you say that it is over and that this guy is bothering you, then I believe you.”

  “I wouldn’t survive it if you or your brothers ever hurt me like he did. I wouldn’t,” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Never, Amelia. Never.” He leaned forward, and kissed her cheeks, avoiding her lips.

  He lay down beside her and placed a hand over her belly as she held his gaze. Brody lifted the ice away and kissed her shoulder.

  “Amelia, who was the guy in the picture in that blue bin?” Murphy asked as he and Ricky sat down on the bottom of the bed.

  She felt her stomach tighten. She needed to explain everything to them. If they hated her, or thought the worse, then so be it.

  “There’s so much to explain.”

  “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere, Amelia. We’re here for you, forever,” Ricky said as he caressed her calf. She could feel the warmth of his skin penetrate through the blanket. Her love for him and his brothers couldn’t be smothered or minimized in any way. She had to tell them about her past. She needed to start trusting people again, so why not her lovers?

  * * * *

  Waylon felt so damn shitty inside right now. He scared Amelia to the point in which she actually thought he would hit her. What the fuck? Who hurt my woman? Who put fear in her like this?

  “Start at the beginning,” Murphy whispered.

  All of them were touching her and caressing her over the blanket. Waylon was staring right down into her eyes. She was the most beautiful, sexy woman he had ever laid eyes on. The moment he saw her, despite his own fears, he wanted to get to know her better. The fact that he was showing such emotion was completely unlike him. He could also see the changes in his brothers. Murphy, the oldest and most demanding, was softer and calmer around Amelia. Ricky had eased up to her quickly. It was like he was the least resistant to opening up his heart to her. Waylon had never seen his brothers act this way. And Brody, Brody shocked the shit out of him. He hated having scars. He was self-conscious about it. He and Ricky felt comfortable enough to be around Amelia with nothing on, and she didn’t stare at their scars or ask questions or pry.

  When Amelia saw Brody, her reaction was sincere. She didn’t look at him in disgust, but instead with compassion. She told him she understood what it felt like and that she had scars of her own. Now they would understand what she meant.

&nbs
p; “I guess I’ll start with telling you guys why I was so resistant accepting your advances.”

  “Our advances, huh?” Ricky teased.

  She smiled as she lowered her eyes. “The four of you represent everything that I’m afraid of and everything that I’m familiar with. You see, my father and two brothers, Kyle and Edward, were in the military. Edward died in combat. He was captured and killed. When Kyle was discharged, he had problems.”

  “What kind of problems?” Brody asked.

  “Psychological problems. PTSS, paranoia, and violent behavior.”

  “Was he abusive to you, Amelia?” Murphy asked, looking very upset at the possibility. Waylon felt his own chest tighten and rage filled his heart.

  She nodded her head. “I tried hard to help them.”

  “Them?” Ricky asked.

  Amelia lowered her eyes then sat up against the headboard. The blanket fell and the strap of her camisole fell from her shoulder, and she pulled it back into place.

  “I had been taking care of my father. My mom died a few years before Kyle’s return and months after Edward was killed. She couldn’t handle it. Plus, my dad was in the military, too. He was a real hard-ass and didn’t accept failure. He was abusive, and he turned to alcohol to ease the pain.”

  “Jesus!” Murphy stated.

  “What happened to Kyle?”

  “He chose the wrong path, Waylon. He thought that fighting and doing drugs eased the pain. He was a fighter, like you. He boxed a lot, but illegally mostly.”

  Waylon felt sick to his stomach. It very well could have been him. Aside from never turning to drugs or painkillers and alcohol to ease his bad memories, he did take his anger out in the ring. No wonder she was so scared.

  “I’m not like that. I’ve never done drugs and I don’t drink a lot, just casually,” Waylon told her.

  “I didn’t say that you did, Waylon. Mano is a boxer, too.”

  “What?” Brody asked, turning Amelia by her chin up toward him so he could look her in the face.