“A’course,” she said.
“Of course,” Arabella corrected her and Julia just rolled her eyes. She stared at the abundant cleavage on Arabella’s chest and Arabella wished she didn’t have to wear shit like this. She was big up top and completely muscular and defined from her martial arts training. Despite all the craziness, she still trained. Maybe one day she would be able to go back to that again.
“You look pretty,” Julia told her and Arabella smiled.
“Thank you. Now let me put you down. I need to go to work or my boss will be angry.”
She scrunched up her face.
“Don’t want dat,” she said, shaking her head. She was so freaking adorable. Arabella smiled with pride. Despite the running, the hiding, and living day by day, it seemed that Julia was growing up okay. Arabella wanted more and she wanted better for them. At least they weren’t faced with violence in their home anymore or forced to listen to their father yell and beat their mother, Cora. No kid deserved a life like that.
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and walked with Julia into the small living room.
Arabella looked at Cora, who sat with Liam in her arms as he drank a bottle. He was falling asleep. The fan Arabella picked up at a garage sale was working fine, and Mom sat at the chair in the kitchen sipping ice tea and staring off out the small dirty window. Not the perfect picture but at least everyone was safe.
“Well, I’m heading to work. I’ll be late, but lock up. I have the key.”
Her mother looked at her, her eyes roaming over her body and the tight sexy outfit she wore. It was the uniform for Rocky’s. She could see the disappointment and sadness in her mother’s eyes.
Mom, it’s not forever. I’m going to get us a better life. It’s just taking time.
She put a smile on her face, walked over, and gave her mom a kiss on her head. Then she walked over to Cora who looked just as sad. She kissed Liam and then squeezed Cora’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Cora whispered. Arabella shook her head and submerged her emotions. Cora blamed herself for everything, every day. Arabella wished she had money for counseling so someone could help her see that she wasn’t at fault for the abuse and for Anthony’s behavior. He was a soldier, a cop, and no one saw the evilness in him. He and his buddies were into some sick stuff. Stuff cops should never engage in.
“Be good. Keep the door locked.”
Arabella grabbed her key and her fake license, and headed to the small beat-up car. She could hear the commotion next door and the rest of the yelling coming from behind their trailer. There was some kind of party going on, and she hoped it would be over by the time she got back. She glanced at the trailer they rented for dirt cheap. Her heart was heavy, her emotions nearly getting the better of her. Something had to give. She couldn’t go on living this way, nor could her family.
* * * *
Rocky’s was wild tonight. Brock and Smith sat by the bar talking with Asher and Avery, their new neighbors. They were Navy Seals along with Beau, Blade, and Cason who presently were talking with three young women wearing halter tops and miniskirts.
“Looks like your roommates are going to be bringing some company home,” Brock said to Asher and Avery.
“Those fucking guys are crazy. The place is a mess. Sawdust everywhere. I can’t wait until it’s all cleaned up and I can breathe clean air again,” Avery said, truly sounding disgusted. Smith and Brock chuckled.
Smith was looking around the place, watching all the chaos going on, and was feeling a bit better about sticking around the area. He was just feeling out of sorts lately. His bad memories from the war and transitioning into civilian life were more difficult than he’d anticipated. But he realized that leaving his team wasn’t really an option. He wasn’t reliant on them so to speak. It was more like they were part of him and were his only family. Without them he would feel even more lost than he felt right now.
When he turned to the right as Brock and Asher were talking about siding for the house, his eyes locked on long muscular thighs and a fantastic ass. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, nor could the guys she was serving drinks to. They just stared at her in awe. Smith wondered what she looked like because the way the guys smiled and nodded all tongue-tied was pretty fucking funny. She had strong shoulders and muscular arms, too. She was more defined than most women, and he knew she worked out. She had to. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail and it was thick, shiny, and reached her back. That meant she had long hair most likely to her ass. Damn.
The second she turned around his heart raced and his mouth gaped open.
Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous and she’s really built well. No wonder those guys were drooling and staring.
Her smile lit up the room, and Brock, Avery, and Asher whistled low and made mumbled comments just like him.
“Who is she?” Brock asked.
“The new girl. Been here for a month. Don’t bother hitting on her, though, she’ll just turn you down. She told Cason and Blade that she doesn’t shit where she eats.” Asher chuckled and so did Brock, but Smith just watched her.
On her second time passing them he really got a good look at her face. She was stunning and she wore hardly any makeup. Just some lip gloss and light eye shadow maybe. Her lips were full, plump. And her eyes. Jesus, her fucking eyes were a sharp, bright blue. His dick immediately came to life.
Never—and he knew for a fact—did his dick actually react to a woman. Sure when he hit on one and was preparing her for sex, he became aroused, but never just from looking at a woman, especially one he’d never even met. She was like a pinup model, a sexy woman men could stare at and jerk off to, just from a picture. He remembered when he and the team were between missions and stationed at a military camp in Iraq. The soldiers had pictures of women like her all over the walls. Except they were from porn magazines and this woman here was too sweet looking to be a porn star.
It was one of the things he liked about Texas. The women were stunning, and some were well-built and muscular from working on the ranches. Of course the wealthier women flaunted their assets and acted prissy and stuck up. He and Brock had both had their share of such women, being in business like they were. Lots of companies they dealt with thought perks of doing business deals meant giving him and Brock women to screw. That just wasn’t their style. Hell, he hadn’t even been with a woman in months, but this one made him interested.
He watched the next set of guys she served and one of them was a bit more brazen than the first group. As the blond, kind-of-drunk guy reached out and placed his hand on her hip, the woman turned out of his grasp. She kept talking, writing down what they wanted as they eyed her over, and then the guy went for her hip again. This time he grabbed her ass. The sight of his large hand over her round, sexy ass did something to Smith. It pissed him off as a feeling of possessiveness came over him. He thought he was losing his fucking mind.
Smith and Brock both stood up and he realized in a flash that his lieutenant, his team leader, had been watching her just like he had. They saw it happen so fast. The guy went to cup her breast and the brunette twisted him around by his arm, placing him in some kind of arm bar hold and the loud thump as his face and chest hit the table drew attention. Smith stared and absorbed how she politely told the guy he was out of line and if he touched her again, next time she would break his arm. He apologized as the bouncer came over to assist. But she didn’t let him kick the guy out. She helped him back into his seat and waved her pointed finger at him as if gently reprimanding him. The guy raised his hands up, his face red with embarrassment, and apologized.
She headed back while all those who watched her whistled and gave a cheer and went back to partying as if nothing happened.
She came past them and Brock spoke to her first.
“Nice move, darling,” he said, eyeing her over.
She gave him the once-over and nodded. Smith figured it was a thank-you. Definitely a woman who didn’t mince words. She continued
to walk when Smith stopped her by touching her wrist. She paused, raised her eyebrows up at him, and then looked where he held her wrist. The sensations that went through his body were crazy. He was so attracted to this woman it was insane. He ignored the spears-of-death look she gave him and spoke to her. “Are you okay?”
She seemed shocked at his question and she stared at him as if reading him or something and then her lip slightly curled up. “Sure thing. Thank you.” She started to go and he released her wrist as she continued to walk. She looked back over her shoulder at him.
She felt it, too. She had to have.
* * * *
Arabella was at her wit’s end. Tonight she had been groped, asked to go home with numerous men, challenged by jealous women as their men flirted with her, and finally touched again in an inappropriate way. She lost her cool for a moment, but that guy was such an asshole. She shouldn’t have reacted so strongly but perhaps it sent a message that she could defend herself if pushed. There were definitely some shady characters here tonight.
But the two men at the bar with the other guys she had seen here before had a real different look to them. Their eyes were dark, their expressions blank, and when the one guy grabbed her wrist to ask her if she was okay, she felt some serious vibes from him. But the tattoos on both men plus the company they kept told her they were military. Soldiers she sure as shit stayed clear of. Besides that, she could never entertain an attraction to a man. She was the breadwinner of her family. They were on the run and no man could accept her and that kind of baggage.
As she ignored the sensations and tiny thrill from the fact the two men still watched her, she grabbed another drink order from the bar and headed to a table of women. They were enjoying a night out and looking for some fun. She placed the drinks down around them, margaritas, sex on the beach, and she overheard their conversation.
“I am definitely going to the fundraiser tomorrow. Pearl is such a beautiful town,” one of them stated.
“And the women’s shelter is doing great. I definitely want to support them. Second Chances has helped so many women and their children escape from abuse and even those on the run,” another added. Arabella swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but what and where is this place you’re talking about?” she asked.
One of the women, a blonde, smiled wide.
She looked Arabella over. “It’s in the town of Pearl a few miles from here. There’s a women’s shelter and they help women who have been abused and even their children if they have any, get back on their feet again.”
“Yes, they even have employment opportunities. They’re doing a fundraiser this weekend. Saturday is a car wash, carnival, and vendor event. A lot of the women make their own jewelry or crafts. They even paint and sell the stuff to raise money. It’s an incredible event and has been going on for the past two years. It’s a great cause,” the other woman added.
“It sounds great. Maybe I’ll check it out. You said a few miles north?” she asked and the woman nodded.
“Thanks.” Arabella was curious about this place. In the past women’s shelters, and even homeless shelters, were too scary for Arabella and the family. Especially with Cora being on edge all the time and Mom suffering with anxiety attacks. She walked back toward the bar and decided to ask Irene, one of the other bartenders who lived around here her whole life, about the shelter. Maybe she had insight.
As the night went on and the place cleared out, she walked by the bar carrying a tray of empty drinks. She was exhausted but the tips were so good tonight. The four guys were still standing there and the two who kept watching her all night caught her eyes again. They were very good looking men, with crew-cut, dark hair to match their dark eyes, and they had muscles and tanned skin and filled out their shirts in a very sexy, appealing manner. She felt her pussy actually spasm as she thought that men like this were ones she could lose her virginity to. But this was the real world, not some fantasy world. Family and children first.
My happiness doesn’t matter.
* * * *
It was four in the morning when Arabella finally entered the trailer. She could hear the baby crying and then her mother saying, “Calm down. Just calm down.” She knew immediately that Cora was having a panic attack. Things were too overwhelming. There was no room in the damn place. She hurried up and entered the trailer. She saw Cora on the couch crying, hyperventilating. Her mother was trying to give her a paper bag to breathe into but Cora shoved it away. Arabella saw the baby on her lap crying, moving around.
“Mom, take Liam, worry about him. I’ll take care of Cora.” Arabella knelt down on the floor and held Cora by her cheeks. Tears streamed down her face. Her lips were quivering. She’d had a nightmare again. She was reliving that night. The night Anthony nearly killed them all.
“Calm down, baby. I’m here now. I’m right here and he can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt us, Cora.”
She shook her head and it took some coaxing to get through to Cora and make her see that they were in fact safe.
“I’m never going to let him hurt us again. Remember that. I’m taking care of everything, aren’t I, Cora?” she asked. Cora finally started to focus on Arabella’s voice and supportive hold on her.
She gasped aloud and then hugged Arabella tight. Arabella felt her own tears in her eyes, but needed to be strong. This was her family. She had to protect them and be strong for them. She rocked her sister in her arms like she would rock baby Liam. She was so exhausted, so tired of coming home to this night after night. She was picking up odd jobs during the day doing gardening, cleaning some houses, and stupid things that people were willing to pay cash to a complete stranger for.
She didn’t even mention to her mom or sister about the guy who wanted her to service him. What the hell did she look like? She’d felt so insulted. Even though the majority of people she met and came across in Texas were great, there were still assholes popping up in between. Arabella was losing her mind and her ability to work so hard. Especially not being able to eat on a regular basis. Even now her belly rumbled. She was starving. But the babies, her mom, and sister came first. She would survive.
She didn’t know what to do. Her sister needed help. The babies needed so much more. She thought about the place, the women’s shelter, in Pearl. She had to go check it out. Maybe what Irene, Andrea, and the other women at work said were true. Perhaps the place called Second Chances could give her family the support and help they needed?
Chapter 2
Smith, Brock, and Dalton and Hank Lewis helped to lift some heavy boxes over toward the vendor tables they were setting up outside the women’s shelter entrance. Rex, Reno, and Marco, though on duty as deputies, helped arrange the tables in a line and set up the tents. They would be providing some extra security, as sheriff Wyatt Cantrell didn’t take any chances when it came to the women at the shelter, many who had escaped domestic violence.
“This looks great. I want to be sure to put out pamphlets about the shelter and the services we offer over here on this table,” Millie said then looked at Lena. “We can both sit here or take turns. What do you think?”
“I think we can handle taking turns. I have a feeling it’s going to be even busier than last year around here,” Lena told her.
“I think so, too.”
“We have the security teams in place as precaution but not in uniform so they can blend in,” Wyatt told Anna as he placed his hands on her shoulders from behind.
She covered his hand with hers. “Thanks, honey.”
“Oh, I think Dale and Virgo have the extra security cameras up and running, too, so we don’t have that problem we had last year with people sneaking in,” Sage told them.
“Yeah, that was a mess,” Anna said.
“What happened?” Brock asked them as he, Smith, Rex, Reno, and Marco joined them.
“A couple of women who needed formula for their babies snuck in. It was silly because we offer help, but they still fe
el so untrusting sometimes,” Sage told them.
“That’s terrible,” Brock replied. Then they saw the crowds of people beginning to make their way over to the tables.
“Okay, it’s time. Everyone take their places,” Millie said and they all did.
Brock looked around the town by the shelter. The front entrance was all done up with larger flowerbeds, a big bright sign with the words Second Chances on the front. It all coordinated and gave such an immediate welcoming feeling. Those burgundy, hunter-green, and earth tone colors continued as sort of a theme throughout Pearl. All the storefronts had hanging baskets, floral displays, and paved sidewalks throughout. Every storefront was welcoming and classy looking. He loved that about the town. So when he and his team established the first phase in the initial development they’d built, they maintained similar colors, had a professional landscape-design company come in, and provided all the work to make the developments aesthetically appealing.
Since the board established a limit on development and expansion, Brock and his team had gotten involved at precisely the right time to buy land and develop it. They even purchased land for other new communities in adjoining towns surrounding Pearl. It was becoming apparent that he and his team didn’t plan on leaving Pearl. This was now their home.
* * * *
Arabella wore the sunglasses and her only nice outfit, a flair skirt with a purple floral print on it, her purple tank top that covered her abundant breasts a hell of a lot better than the one she wore to work, and a pair of white sandals. She parked her car close by in case she needed a quick getaway. But considering that the car was on its last leg, she’d be lucky if it even started in an emergency.
She took the first fifteen minutes scoping out the place. Once she crossed the two-mile gap between Turbank and Pearl she was shocked to see the large welcome sign. The colors and flowers were so welcoming that she wondered what the rest of the town might look like.
Soldiers of Pearl 1: Invasion of Hearts (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4
