Her Knights in Black Stetsons [Smalltown, USA] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Her Knights in Black Stetsons [Smalltown, USA] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 16

by Shae Shannon


  * * * *

  Dixon could hear something in the distance. It was abrasive and uncoordinated, like a drunk bear doing the cha-cha. It didn’t sound like an animal, unless said animal had gotten into someone’s moonshine stash, which was unlikely, more due to the tight security the brewers kept on their white lightning and less that a bear would chug a jug. Something wasn’t right. Jester had his ears on full alert, and fought to turn and go to the right. After a few minutes of debate, he let the reins go slack and allowed the beast to lead the way.

  Jester walked slow and cautious, keeping his ears perked and his nostrils flared. Dixon unlatched the rifle at his side and took the safety off. He laid it across his lap, and reached under his flannel shirt to unlatch the holster on his side. With two guns locked and loaded, whatever waited ahead would have a hell of a fight. Jester whinnied. A few loud snorts blew through the silence, and he started getting riled up. Dixon pulled him to a stop, and listened to the night breeze.

  A man’s voice carried from a short distance. “There you are, you fucking slut. I knew you wouldn’t get far with the little present I fed you. You are going to get so much more hurt for making me chase your sorry ass.”

  Dixon stiffened. It was Trent! He shot a three word text to his dad. Trent Colt cabin. He slowly slid off of Jester, tethering his overgrown tracking dog to a tree. After securing extra ammo in the pockets of his shirt, he slowly and quietly walked toward the sounds.

  It wasn’t long before he could spot the demented psychopath leaning over EmmaLee with something shiny in his hand. He pulled the rifle down on him, aiming straight between his eyes. Movement behind Dixon made him jump and bring attention to his position.

  Trent glared straight at him, allowing a ghoulish grin to spread across his monstrous face. “Don’t move, you sick son of a bitch!” Dixon shouted his warning, hoping it would stall long enough that he could figure out how to get a shot off before Trent hurt Emmie more than she already was. Jase and Lyndon walked up to stand beside Dixon, their icy glares fixed in a deadly ray on Trent. They both had their guns drawn, ready for the first opportunity to split his wig.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t the little hooker’s posse of customers. Tell me, what did she charge you? Or did she spread her legs and give her nappy dugout to everyone freely?” He dropped to his knees beside her and ran the blade down her torso, leaving a red line of blood in its path.

  Jase let loose a growl so deep and vicious it made a wild bear seem like a pussy. Dixon had never heard such rage come from Jase in his life. He couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of pride in the protectiveness he showed. His own gut twisted at the sight of her wounded. Anger boiled through his veins.

  Jase lowered his eyes into a deathly glower. “Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her. Now!” Dixon stopped Jase from hurdling toward Trent.

  “Don’t come any closer or I will gut her like a fish. I have a few things I want to do before she is totally worthless to me. I would hate to cut my date short.” Trent ran the blade over both breasts, leaving another cut to drip blood down her pale flesh.

  “You motherfucker! Don’t touch her again! I am going to kill you!” Lyndon stepped forward, with his finger squeezing down on the trigger.

  “Lyndon, don’t. You could miss and hit Emmie. We need to get her to safety first.” Dixon gently lowered his brother’s arm. “He will get what is coming to him and then some, Lyndon.”

  Lyndon kept the gun in a ready position, and his face twisted. “Trent, if you let her go now, we won’t kill you. If you don’t, I will bring a pain down on you so strong you will beg for death.”

  “Oh, I will let you have your little slut after I have banged her out good and made sure that no one else can get anything from her. What I don’t do with my dick, I have a knife for. I bet the little skank will love getting fucked by a double-sided knife. That shit will look like a frag went off in it when I am done.” Spit dripped down his chin with each disgusting word.

  “Fuck you! I will kill you now, you stupid fuck!” Dixon snapped. He closed the gap with only a couple long strides and stood mere feet from his target, and his love. With his barrel lowered straight at Trent’s head, he cocked the hammer and started to squeeze down on the trigger.

  Trent raised the knife up with the point down aimed for EmmaLee’s chest. “If you shoot me, I kill her. Neither of us want her dead, at least not yet anyway. How about you all wait here, and when I am done, I will leave her alive so you can get your turn. That way, it is a win-win for us all.” Before Dixon could pull the trigger, a shot rang off, followed by four more. Startled, he looked around and spotted Jeremy walking from behind the now falling over Trent. He quickly pushed him away from EmmaLee, and removed the knife from his trembling fingers.

  Dixon walked over in a half run to close the small distance between them that remained with his gun pointed at Trent, who was now struggling for breath. “My turn, asshole.”

  Before he could get a shot off, his dad stopped him. “No, son. He is dying. Let the sick bastard suffer.”

  Rhett, Johnny, Justin, and Wyatt came marching out from behind the cover of the woods, bringing the Sheriff and EMT with them. Jase and Lyndon had rushed to EmmaLee’s side, and were trying to bring her back to a conscious state. Dixon fell to his knees, beaten by the sight that lay before him. She was bruised, battered, bloody, and lifeless. After glancing at his brothers, he knew that they, too, were petrified by her fragile state. Gruesome gurgling and raspy breaths came from the profusely bleeding Trent as he was handcuffed and set aside to wait for medical attention. In these parts of the country, everyone looked out for each other. They put all of their attention toward EmmaLee and waited for a backup ambulance to worry about Trent. Unfortunately, by the time the second truck arrived, Trent had died. Justice had been served in its own way, and left out any chance of parole or probation to be included in the sentence.

  EmmaLee was rushed to the hospital where she remained in critical condition. The drugs that Trent had given her had caused a ton of internal damage to her kidneys, spleen, liver, and messed up her nervous system. The doctors had brought in a special medical team to assist in her care. For three months, she remained in a comatose state.

  Chapter 11

  Every day, the boys took turns sitting by her side around the clock. Between Jase, Lyndon, and Dixon, they made sure she was never left unprotected again. Lilly, Jeremy, Wyatt, Tina, and the rest of the clan all visited frequently. They were all losing hope that she would pull through, and knew that her three men needed their own support, whether they would ask for it or not. Meals were cooked from the entire church and half of the town for whoever was on Emmie duty. Other friends and family members had stepped in to help out at the ranch to ease the stress and added workload to the Dennisons. The ladies of the church had even begun to run errands and buy groceries and household items for them. For such a tragic time, Small Town had all banded together, becoming the support for them all.

  The hot summer days had gradually dragged into the cooler weather that promised autumn was near. Jeremy and Lilly had voiced on many occasions their concern for the boys’ health. All three had taken on the resemblance of zombies from the lack of sleep and the overage of stress they all felt. Lilly had to practically force-feed them all, and Jeremy had purposely made sure that there was little or no work to do when each was around. He could see the hollowness in each son, and he knew something had to be done to lift their spirits.

  As Jeremy walked into the kitchen one morning, he sat Jase and Dixon down at the table for the hot breakfast Lilly had prepared and cleared his throat saying, “Boys, I know how hard all of this is on you. I think you need to start focusing on the future and not the negative that the present brings.” He sipped his coffee, stealing a glance over the steaming rim.

  “What are you getting at, Dad?” The sharpness in Dixon’s reaction tugged the smallest of smiles to Jeremy’s lips. He knew his son had mistaken his words, and thought he would say to plan
for the worst-case scenario, but it was quite the contrary.

  “Settle down, Dixon, and let me finish. You three should have already started the assembly of your family home together long ago. EmmaLee is going to need a home of her own, and one big enough to take care of the brood of little ones you three will produce. Your mother and I have been talking, and we have decided that Emmie would best like it out by the creek you all used to play at when you were little. I have already started having supplies delivered, and you should have enough to get started. Your momma knows her well enough from all of their talks over the years that she has written a few must-haves on a notepad that needs to be included. Since Lyndon is with her now, you two can get busy. A crew is coming to give you boys a hand due to the circumstances, but you three need to work any extra time you have on it.” Jase and Dixon stared flabbergasted at their father. Never in either of their lives had the man handed them anything. They were taught to always work for their things, and that was Dennison law.

  Jase got his dropped jaw off of the table before Dixon, and answered the amused older man. “Dad, wow. Just…wow! Why did you do all of this for us? We had planned on building, but with Emmie still in the hospital and all, we just figured it be best to wait.” He chugged his now cold coffee in an attempt to regain his composure.

  “Wait for what, son? EmmaLee will come home. She is going to be just fine. She deserves a home of her own for once with the three men that have held her heart since she set eyes on you boys all those years ago.” He reached over and laid a hand on top of each boy’s arm. “I know I don’t say it much, but I love you boys. You have made me and your momma so proud. We will get through this together.”

  Dixon smiled first at Jase and then his father. “Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”

  Jase nodded back, clearing his throat before adding, “I love you, Pops. Thank you.”

  Lilly had been silently observing from the door and took this opportunity to join in the conversation. “Well I love all of the men in this family, but I love my daughter, too. It is time we start getting to work to get her better and home where she belongs. So, eat up and get to work. We have a lot to get done in a short time.” She dropped a kiss on each of their cheeks, and walked out as swiftly as she had waltzed in.

  Jase shook his head and grinned. “You heard the woman, Dixon. Hurry up so we can get to work.”

  For the first time in the months EmmaLee had been hospitalized, Jeremy witnessed true smiles stretching across their thinner cheeks, and the slightest bit of color begin to creep back in their lifeless, worried features. It was good to see the newfound hope that sparked the flame under them. They inhaled their breakfast, and headed out the door.

  Two weeks had passed, and little had changed with EmmaLee’s condition. The doctors had all been discussing possible treatments, and had explained the side effects and possible complications with each.

  EmmaLee couldn’t figure out where she was, or what was going on, but the excruciating pain in her head left a sickness in her stomach, to go along with her mouth that felt like she had eaten sandpaper for a week. A loud snoring had pulled her out of the deep darkness that had wrapped her in its safety for so long, and she longed for the light, and the source of the horrid sounds.

  Opening her eyes had been easier as an idea, and not so much as reality. For some strange reason it felt as if there were huge boulders holding her eyelids shut. Focusing all of her strength, she managed to crack the tight seal and peek out into the world.

  The brightness blinded her momentarily, drawing tears to spill down her cheeks. Finally, after they had time to focus some, the pain in her head seemed to ease up. Looking around at the unusual surroundings, she searched for the odd sound. Her gaze finally landed on the sleeping Dixon at her side. He was sprawled out with her favorite romance book folded in his lap. Startled and confused, EmmaLee frantically searched for an explanation. IVs were attached to each of her arms, and a tube pumping oxygen was stuck up her nose. Uncertainty and confusion strangled her. I am in the hospital? Why? What is Dixon doing here? Oh my God am I dead? Her inner dialogue somehow kept her from noticing the loud, crazy, overly exhausted Dixon had stopped the wretched snoring and now sat staring at her with tears brimming in the dark pools of his eyes.

  “EmmaLee! Baby, you are awake! Are you hurting?” The tears spilled over, and trailed down his cheeks. Worry was etched in his face, showing signs of long-term distress.

  “My eyes hurt, and my head feels like a grenade has exploded in my brain. I feel like death warmed over. What happened, Dixon?” Her voice was rough and forced, like she had a bad case of laryngitis, making her wince more. Her breathing hitched a few notches, and her heart felt like it was going to vibrate through her ribs.

  Dixon wrapped his arms around her in a death grip. He smothered her face in kisses, only allowing her to catch her breath before continuing the smooch attack. Finally, after every inch of her head and neck had been covered at least three times with his lips, he pulled back and dragged her into his lap. “Emmie, you have been in a coma for three and a half months, sweetheart. We didn’t know if you would pull out of it or not. Thank God you are okay! We have been worried sick!” He smashed his lips to hers and kissed her like it was the last kiss of his life. EmmaLee felt her head swoon, unable to comprehend the reason for this affection, but her mind quit trying to figure out why and instead fell to the mercy of the moment.

  When Dixon eased her gradually back to earth, she rested her head on his shoulder to still the sudden swirling that fogged her. “I was in a coma? Oh wow. Shit! Trent! That psycho bastard!” Her teeth gritted, chomping down on the inside of her cheek in the process.

  “Trent is dead, Emmie. You never have to worry about him again. I am so sorry we couldn’t protect you like we should have. I will never forgive myself for allowing such horrible things. Your poor little body has been through so much.” His voice had begun to squeak before he could finish his sentence, and the coldest, most hate-filled mask flipped over his face.

  Chills spread over her, sending a mild bout of shivers to wrack her entire body. He yanked the covers over her and snuggled her tight. She melted like a Popsicle on a hot summer day wrapped up in the safety blanket of his arms. Memories came flooding back in a hurricane of crap, jumbling her emotions, almost sending her back into unconsciousness.

  EmmaLee hated that her memories of that night returned. She wished that those would have stayed locked away, instead of dog piling her and sending the dirty, evil feelings to suck her up. “I don’t know how I escaped. He followed me, and I could hear him not far on my tail. Besides all of the obvious bruises and cuts, the psychopath lunatic dropped me into a tub of cold water! I can handle a little blood, but I draw the line when it comes to cold water.” Anger replaced the sadness in an instant.

  Dixon laughed. “How dare he. That is the worst torture in the world.”

  His sarcastically loving comment eased her rage, and filled her heart with love. “I know, right? How cruel can one person be?”

  Dixon shook his head, still laughing from the girl’s odd way of prioritizing the horrid events. “Emmie, if you wouldn’t have been in a coma, love, the last thing that would have been on your mind was your cool dip in the tub. You were so beat up, honey. I have never seen such a little thing be so injured and pull through. We thought there was no way you would survive. I know your hatred for anything but scalding water, but the pain would have kept you from giving it a second thought.”

  “Are you laughing at me, Dixon? It was absolutely horrible. I never even want to drink ice water again! The idea of cold water makes me want to cry.” Her bottom lip came out in the cutest of pouts, making her beyond irresistible. He leaned over and sucked the extended plump lip into his mouth, gently scraping his teeth against it as he released it with a pop.

  “You are adorable, baby. I promise that you will never have to dip even the very tip of your cute little piggy toe into warm, let alone cold, water. I will personally inst
all extra water heaters to ensure that there will always be boiling water at your disposal.”

  A soft giggle jostled her against him. The sweet sound felt like the warmth of the sun shining down on him. It thawed the hardness and stresses he had been plagued with the past few months allowing it to slowly drip away. “Your laugh is the prettiest melody I have ever heard, Emm. I am just so thankful you are alive. Before I call the boys and Momma and Dad, I want a little time to keep you all to myself. I know that is selfish, but there is so much I need to say I don’t even know where to start.” He lowered his head, suddenly finding the seams of the sheet interesting.

  “Of course I am alive. You should know that there is no way some wimpy weirdo can take me out. It will take a heck of a lot more than a few bruises and scrapes to make me give up and leave the world. Plus, I had three hunky cowboys that gave me plenty of incentive to stay away from the light.” She enclosed her hand over his, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Dixon?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  EmmaLee met his eyes with hers, taking extra care how she approached the next topic. “Did I miss something, because you seem to be acting like we are kinda out of the friend zone, so to speak. I just assumed that the mudding incident was a onetime event. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. It is about dang time, and if I would have known going into a coma would bring you to your senses I would have slipped into one years ago.” Her mischievous grin eased the tension lines around his mouth and eyes and replaced it instead with happiness.

 

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