“Let me see,” Brady said and looked at the picture. They all saw it and looked grim.
“Give it to me,” Kendrick stated. They passed him the phone. He walked away with it, spoke with one of the soldiers transporting them by plane, and headed into the back.
“Use the satellite phone, and try Jack and Slogan now,” Harley said to Pierce, who pulled out the satellite phone. He dialed the number and it rang and rang. When they all heard Slogan’s voice, he sounded out of breath.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Tell us you have Donata and she’s safe,” Harley said to him.
“Negative. They got her.”
“Fuck! How, Slogan? How the hell did it happen?” Turbo asked. Slogan explained about the fair and about her going to the bathroom.
“And the guys in the car?” Pierce asked.
“Dead except for one of them, but he isn’t any use to us. Said they were heading to an airport. It was Coleman who orchestrated this thing. He has her.”
“Fuck, and we don’t know where he is or even how to track him,” Brady stated.
“This one guy said they’re in a truck. A decent-sized white one. I assume they were heading to an airport. We got Ford Brazos and his brothers helping us out. They alerted other military in the area. We’re trying to find this fucking truck,” Slogan said.
“We’re on our way back. It’s going to take hours. We’ll call again,” Kendrick told Slogan, and they ended the call.
Harley ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the others.
“What will he do, bring her to Saudi Arabia and find out Admere is dead and then what? Should we turn around and wait and head them off?” Covan asked.
“We don’t know what he’s going to do, or if he even knows Admere is dead,” Bailey said to them.
“This is a fucking mess. We underestimated Coleman. We dismissed the possibility that he could still want her and be working for Admere. It was all a setup to get us to react. We fucking got duped,” Covan said and then slammed his hand down on the arm of the seat.
“You saw the fucking picture. We failed her. We all did. We should have been with her and then she wouldn’t be bloody, beaten, scared, and about to get raped or worse. He’s going to fucking rape her. You guys should have stayed, too. Sent us to handle this,” Bailey said to them in anger.
“Bullshit. We all needed to go. You saw how many fucking men there were. Your intel was wrong,” Turbo yelled at Bailey, and they stood up and were about to fight. Kendrick, Pierce, and Frankie got in between them.
“Calm the fuck down. None of you failed her. There were too many fucking players. Too many people working together to make this a success. You were successful, too. You got rid of Admere and his shit of men. He won’t be a problem and will never cause you or your woman any harm again. Now, get your heads out of your asses and stop fucking panicking. Your woman is strong and determined. She has a fight in her. I saw it in her eyes. You’re brothers, more than cousins and friends. You’re blood and you share the same woman, and you will get her back in your arms and in your beds because we’re going to help you,” Kendrick yelled at them. Harley looked at Bailey, and then they all smirked.
“Fuck, if this is what sharing one woman does to a bunch of hardcore soldiers, then I ain’t interested,” Pierce added in.
“The fuck you ain’t, and especially if she’s as fine of a woman as Donata,” Lou added. Tex chuckled.
“Okay, enough of this bullshit. While you guys are losing your shit acting like idiots, I was working with intel and some friends. That cell phone was Admere’s. We got a lot of contacts on there, which by the way we will be confiscating and keeping for future reference, and that call went to Coleman. They have a way of finding that signal, tracking Coleman’s cell number and ultimately zoning in on a location of that phone. As long as it stays in range and there’s a tower nearby, they can find them and as along as Donata is with him,” Kendrick told them.
“Jesus. Brilliant. Let’s hope they can,” Bailey stated, and they all got quiet.
Harley looked at Bailey. “Sorry, cous.”
“No, I’m sorry. Forget it. We’ll find her.’
“Yes, we will, and put all this crazy, dangerous shit behind us once and for all,” Brady said, and they all agreed. It was going to be a long, restless flight, but something had to give.
* * * *
“Drive off the road and find someplace secluded. We’re going to have a little fun,” Coleman said and lifted up and started to pull off his shirt. The truck swayed side to side as if they went off road.
“I want in,” the driver yelled.
“Make sure we’re hidden well so no one interrupts the party,” Coleman said, his nose swollen and bloody and a gun in the waist of his pants. Donata was crying, scared out of her mind, and unable to take deep breaths with the tape over her mouth. When he cupped her breast, she swung at him again with her one free hand, and he pushed his forearm to her throat. He scraped her leg with his hand, trying to push them apart, and the truck stopped, the engine died, and she heard the door close. She wasn’t going to get raped, assaulted. She wasn’t going out like this. Her men were risking their lives, sneaking into Saudi Arabia to kill Admere and to end the danger. She had to do her part, too. She had to do something. Slogan and Jack were probably so worried and angry for not protecting her. She had to protect herself. She had to.
She glanced at the gun, and when Coleman lowered down to suck on her breast, pushing her bra to the side, she gripped the gun and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the thigh. He raged, rolled to the side, and she shot him again. The other guy slammed an arm over her waist, and she rolled into him and shoved her knee up hard, hitting him in the face. She then turned the gun on him and shot him next. Coleman roared and came at her with a knife as the one door opened and she shot him again and again. The guy at the door looked shocked, and she shot at him next, hitting him in the throat. She was shaking, gripping the gun, feeling the pain in her arm as blood spilled from her torn flesh. She grunted and moaned, looking around her at the bodies—at Coleman and the other guy not moving, and the door to the truck closed, the other guy dead on the ground outside of it.
She had done it. She’d killed them. She tugged on her hand, trying to get free from the handcuffs. She couldn’t, they were too tight. Where the hell was the key?
She looked at Coleman and tried pulling him close enough that she could reach his pants and look in the pockets. As she stretched her wrists burned and the flesh tore, but she had to try. Nothing. There was nothing there. It was no use, she was out of breath. She couldn’t even escape. She was stuck here, bleeding, battered, dead men around her, and she sobbed. She looked around the truck, trying to find something to somehow get free. Could she shoot the bindings off? There was metal all around her. If she missed the bindings, she could shoot her own hand, or the bullet could hit the metal, ricochet back, and kill her. She sobbed. She was alive, but no one knew where she was. No one would find her. She was going to die out here, alone in this truck, her captors dead by her hands with the last laugh on her.
She calmed her breathing, held the gun to her chest, and tried to remain calm. Her upper arm throbbed as well as her face, neck, and breast. She started to shake; she was going into shock. Think, Donata, think.
* * * *
“We got fucking nothing. Nothing!” Slogan yelled out and slammed his hand on the roof of the patrol car. All of the deputies were searching the area. Other jurisdictions had been notified about the truck, its license plate, and the last location the phone signal had come from before being lost.
“It has to be out here. Something went wrong. They never got out of the area or got to the airport,” Bailey said to them. They were all there. Bailey, Brady, Slogan, Jack, Covan, Harley, Turbo. Even Kendrick, Pierce, Frankie, Lou, and Tex were there along with Ford, his brothers, and other men.
“It’s daylight. It’s been twenty-four hours since she was taken. The helicopters
are out there and looking,” Ford said to them, and the radio went off.
“What’s that?” Ford asked.
“The location?” he asked and then looked at Jack and the men.
“They think they see something. It’s several miles from here. Come on. I know the dirt road,” he said, and they all got into their vehicles and headed along with Ford.
They raced down the highway and then down side roads and into nowhere. It was miles and miles of trees, woods, open land, and then very high fields. They could see where something had driven into what wasn’t a road and then some covered areas. The helicopter circled around above, the sounds eerie to all of them.
The truck came into sight, and Slogan, like the others, drew his weapon as he saw one body down on the ground and the door slightly open.
They approached with caution. Ford and his men opened the door. “Holy God,” he said, and the other door opened and the scene came at them all at once: Coleman dead, shot multiple times. Another man dead behind Donata’s head. Blood oozing from her arm, a bloody knife next to it, and her holding a gun with one hand, her dress ripped, her mouth taped closed, and her arm hanging from restraints.
“Donata. Donata,” Slogan said her name, and she gripped the gun. He covered her hand.
“She’s alive,” he yelled to the others.
“What a fucking mess. Poor thing was stranded in here. Jesus,” Ford stated. They undid the bindings, and her eyes blinked open. She looked so pale.
“We got you, baby. We’re going to get you to a hospital. Brady,” he called to his cousin, who climbed inside looking as sick and shocked as Slogan felt.
“Holy shit. Let me see,” he said, and she moaned as Slogan tried to un-tape her mouth.
“Oh God. Jesus, it’s stuck,” Slogan said, shaking with anger and concern. They had treated her like an animal, obviously tried to rape her as they assaulted her and she had fought back. She’d gotten ahold of a gun, it seemed, and she’d shot them. Then she had been stuck here like this, bleeding and scared. “Holy God.”
“It’s not terrible. She’ll need stitches, but she lost a lot of blood. She needs a hospital,” Brady said.
“The ambulance just pulled up,” Covan said. All the men were there, and they got the stretcher into the back and carefully got her onto it. They strapped her in, and they all assisted taking her out. Everyone was looking at her, the tape off her mouth now, showing all the bruises.
“That’s one strong, determined woman you men have. My God, love her and never let her go. Take care of her, Jack,” Ford said.
They all followed the paramedics and let Ford, his men, and Kendrick, Pierce, Lou, Frankie, and Tex work it all out.
* * * *
Donata blinked her eyes open, the beeping sounds echoed low in the room. The scent of hospital reminded her of where she was and that she was safe. She looked around her and immediately spotted the men around the room and Jack with his arms tucked under his cheek as he leaned on the bed, sitting in a chair sleeping. Slogan was on her other side in the same position. They weren’t leaving her side again. They felt responsible for what happened but it hadn’t been their faults.
She was enjoying the time with them in town. They laughed and spoke about upcoming festivals. Jack held her one hand and Slogan held her other hand walking her around like they were proud to show her off, yet trying to act like the whole strolling thing was stupid.
They were tough. They didn’t do what other men did. They were all hardcore—from their tough personalities to their stubbornness, their commanding tones, their need for respect and order. It was going to sometimes drive her crazy, but mostly it drove her wild. She loved it, and she loved them.
She felt the aches and pains, the soreness on her cheeks and eyes. She blinked, taking in the others in the room. All in chairs sleeping. All looking angry, in need of shaves and she would tell them that when they awoke. They brought out a stronger woman in her. One who would die fighting to get back to them and to love them another day. This was a gift. They were each a gift. Jack, and his shoulder length blond hair, that distinguished nose, and cocky attitude. He was sensitive, and naughty in bed. So were each of them when she thought about it. She reached and stroked his hair. Then looked at Slogan. That slick black hair, gorgeous face, so tan and sexy. Especially in his military green shirt and camo pants. What’s a woman to do but be aroused by such charismatic men? Her men. She stroked his hair and then looked at Harley.
He was grumpy, tired, and looked ready to snap awake and attack as he leaned against the wall in the chair, arms crossed and maybe even awake right now. Then she felt Brady and Bailey’s eyes on her and they both yawned, stood up, rubbing their faces and acting like their bodies were sore from being in their chairs.
“Hey, baby, you need something?” Bailey asked, approaching, causing Slogan and Jack to lift up. Covan and Turbo stood up from their chairs. Those serious dark eyes of theirs, Covan’s martial arts body, the tattoos, his straight, hard expression had her heart racing. She licked her lips.
“Water?” Turbo asked softy. He was so quiet all the time. He whispered things to her in the ambulance. How much he loved her. How they were going to change their lives, and give up doing missions and just love her.” She nodded and Slogan helped her sit up, she cringed but then took a sip from the straw as Turbo held it. She sat back.
“What time is it?” Bailey asked and rubbed his head.
“Seven a.m.,” Harley replied.
“It’s time for the seven of you to go home, shower, get some food and rest, and get ready for me to come home,” she said to them.
“Excuse me?” Harley asked. Staring at her with that disciplinary expression and attitude in his tone.
“You heard me, Harley. The danger is gone. I can be safe and secure here for a few hours while you guys get washed up, shave, eat, get some rest, and then get me out of here,” she told them.
“I don’t think so Donata. What you fail to realize is that you were beaten, stabbed, and we nearly lost you. The doctors want to watch you for another two days at minimum, and take care of you.”
“You all can do a better job. I trust you and love each of you so much. I want to go home. I want you all to hold me in your arms in our bed and love me. Can’t you do that for me?” She asked.
Her seven men stared at her, and tears filled her eyes. She loved them more than life itself.
“I’ll go talk to the doctor. But you,” Harley said, pointing at her with one hand and his other on his hip, his expression good ole’ Harley—intense, serious and damn intimidating. “You, remember who’s in charge and who your men are. I don’t expect any orders or demands from you unless it’s begging to let you come. You hear?” he asked and her cheeks flushed, she lowered her eyes and nodded. “Yes, sir,” she whispered softly and way more seductive than she could have ever wanted it to sound.
“Ohhh, she is definitely going to be under twenty-four-hour care with us,” Slogan said while rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. Despite her aches and pains, her entire body hummed with desire and that need that only seemed to grow stronger and stronger being around her men. For some reason, by the way they were all looking at her, she was definitely going to get more than she asked for, and perhaps her being under their twenty-four-hour care would mean exactly that. Her under them, on top of them, between them, hell, surrounded by them. What better way to heal and feel completely protected then that?
Epilogue
The house was filled with all their friends. Everyone was there: Mateus, Major, and Bella. Fedarro, Collin, and Gisella. Caprice, Angelo, Vito, and Morano. Giada, Dominick, Giuseppe, and Andreas. Fina, Hadeon, Paulo, and Andriy. Alda, Brew, and Royce. Logic and Train remained in New York to keep eyes on things along with Lenox and Ziek, but Alessa, Roman, and Cobra were there, too. Rayanna and Dmitri arrived an hour ago, and they were all gathered around helping the men take care of Donata and to celebrate her recovery.
Donata looked at everyone
outside by the picnic tables, enjoying the barbecue and even talking to Kendrick, Pierce, Frankie, Lou, and Tex. This was her family, her friends, and her everything.
Harley slid his arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder. Her arm was still bandaged up, her face bruised and discolored, but she was healing well and would recover fully. She was seeing a therapist, but it seemed to her the best therapy thus far was being with her men, having them close, and also having her friends here from New York.
She took a sip of her water bottle and eased back against Harley’s chest, watching everyone and loving the past few days and their visit out here. Kyle was alive and well but remained in New York. He felt so responsible he didn’t want to face her men or anyone. She would help him deal with that once she was healed. This right here—her friends, her family—she needed them. She thought about her life, and about what had happened. How when push had come to shove and she’d thought she would die, be raped, and eventually shipped off to Admere, she’d fought harder than she ever had before. Like her men, she had a fight in her and a will to live and to have love and more time with her men. She didn’t care where they lived or settled down, just as long as they were together.
Harley kissed her neck, and she smiled. She locked gazes with Covan, then Turbo and Jack. The four men she’d tried so hard to ignore, but was so attracted to she couldn’t hide it. She remembered the night she was taken and forced into the limo on her way to the airport and how the men had rescued her. They had dressed in black, and used their skills and connections to save her. She remembered seeing the four of them and then three more men, and thinking there were the four men she wanted and then there were seven. Seven men who cared for her, who loved her, who would give their lives for her, and she would give her life for theirs. That was what she always wanted—to be loved, cherished, and cared for. It was what all her friends had wanted, too, and where had they each found true love? In the arms of made men, of soldiers, of enforcers, of men who took charge, protected, and honored the women they loved, and did so with respect, gusto, and passion. She looked at Brady, Bailey, and Slogan, who made their way toward her. She smiled wide.
Made Men 10: And Then...There Were Seven (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 17
