Protecting Dallas

by Krista Wolf

  “So… what exactly was this?” I asked, gesturing to my spent cock. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

  Dallas chuckled softly. “A goodbye present?”

  My brows crossed, but only for a moment. Then I remembered.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, kicking myself. “New Orleans.”

  “Uh huh.”

  She climbed up and planted a kiss on my chest. Then another. Then a third, and a forth. Her touch was as sweet as it was electric.

  “The flight leaves in two hours,” Dallas lamented, groaning into one nipple. “I should probably get showered.”

  She went to push herself up, but I had a hand on her naked ass now. I gave it a hard squeeze that made her eyes flare wide.

  “So when do I get this present?” I asked.

  Dallas moaned at my touch. She traced her tongue slowly around one nipple, causing me to relax my grip. Then she bit me playfully, and leapt nimbly to her feet.

  “When you welcome me home,” she winked, and bounced out of the room.

  Thirty-Six

  DALLAS

  I was seated between Austin and Maddox, cruising along comfortably at thirty-five thousand feet. Contemplating how radically different my life was now than a month ago, and how I somehow wouldn’t trade it for all the world.

  Shit, if it meant getting to where I was now I would’ve burned the house down myself. Imminent danger of being killed aside, living with my three Navy SEALs had filled my life with action, excitement, and of course, near limitless amounts of dirty, filthy sex.

  Only it wasn’t just sex, and I’d be lying if I said it were. There were feelings now too; emotions and attachments that came hand in hand with being so close to them. The guys were fun and funny, lovable as well as gorgeous. And they were fiercely protective of me. Sweet and kind, but also alpha enough to give back every last ounce of sarcasm and trouble I dished their way.

  And God, they were so fucking hot…

  Going to New Orleans had been Maddox’s idea, based on the intel they’d gathered so far. We needed to find out more about Evan Miller. And that meant diving into where he’d been stationed, and the commanders above him. Even the places he lived, which of course meant one thing:

  I’d be walking in the footsteps of Connor.

  There was a lot we could find out in New Orleans, and we hoped to make sense of my brother’s last days. The recording of his apparent death had knocked me on my ass for a bit, but I’d gotten back up quickly. For Connor’s sake as much as mine.

  Protecting myself — and now my three incredible lovers — was something we all owed to Connor. We needed to find out who hurt him, and what they wanted. Most of all, I wanted to know why.

  Clearing ourselves of this mess went hand in hand with avenging my brother’s death; two birds, one stone. And if we dug deep enough to cause a little more trouble? Kicking the hornets nest was probably necessary to finding out exactly where to burn it all down.

  “Another, miss?”

  I smiled sweetly as the flight attendant handed me a fresh bottle of vodka. I still had enough cranberry juice left to mix myself happy for the next hour or so. Austin was staring out the window like a zombie, and Maddox was crashed out completely. His head rested so adorably on my shoulder, I didn’t even mind the drool.

  Leaving Kane had been a tough call, but there was still so much to be done back in Vegas. He had leads on who might be checking out the black SUV from Nellis, and he planned on following up with anyone associated with Miller, too. And though we were worried about leaving him a sitting duck and an easy target, he’d promised to sleep on base for however long we were gone.

  Who was he really kidding, though? If I knew anything about Kane it was that he’d never back down. He wouldn’t hide with his tail tucked between his legs — especially not with so much information still to be gleaned. More likely he’d stay up every night, staring at the outside camera feeds while cleaning his pistols, a fully loaded M4A1 rifle across his lap.

  The image brought a smile to my face. So did the memory of this morning’s farewell blowjob.

  I sighed contentedly, settling into my seat as the third little bottle of vodka slid easily down my throat.

  Yes, I was a happy girl.

  Even with the shitstorm raging around us.

  Thirty-Seven

  DALLAS

  New Orleans was even more fantastic, more breathtaking than I could’ve possibly imagined. And in my mind’s eye, it was pretty damned beautiful to begin with.

  We touched down mid-afternoon and checked straight into our hotel room, which was clean and nice and sported two queen sized beds. My stomach did a sexy backflip as I wondered if I’d end up in one or the other by the end of the night.

  Or quite possibly, both.

  “You guys sleep there,” I laughed, pointing to the second mattress as I laid claim to the first. “He snores,” I told Maddox, before moving my finger from Austin to him. “And he hogs the blankets.”

  The guys only looked at each other and shook their heads. Their plans were obviously different. I’d go along with whatever they wanted of course, but they didn’t need to know that. Not right now at least.

  I grunted, plopped my bag down, then fell heavily back into the softness of the bed.

  New Orleans, I sighed to myself, staring at the ceiling. Pretty fucking cool.

  It was, actually. The city was on my bucket list of places to visit before I kicked off the planet, and I wasn’t even close to kicking off yet. So far, anyway.

  “Get your pretty ass up,” Austin ordered, offering his hand. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. “We’ve got work to do.”

  We freshened up quickly and headed back down to the lobby. Then, as a trio, we spent the rest of the day exploring the northern edge of the city. Our rental car was small and inconspicuous; despite my every attempt to get the guys to pick a convertible, we ended up with a small, four-door sedan.

  “How boring,” I whined, sticking my tongue out at Maddox. His mock grumpy face was kinda cute, but I especially liked Austin putting his hands on my hips… and practically shoving me into the car.

  “Drive,” Maddox said, totally shocking me as he handed over the keys. “And none of that race car shit you pulled back at home.”

  They worked their phones while I navigated, cruising my way around The Big Easy. Our first stop was a government contractor Connor had once done work for, and who Maddox had been talking with through text-messages. The contacts there guided us in another direction, and we ended up pretty far from our hotel by the time night fell.

  The city looked even better at night. The mixture of ancient architecture and modern uplighting lent everything a shadowy, spooky feel. Some parts of the city were darker than others, and you could always tell when you wandered into a very old area.

  And it was busy. Lots of people, lots of cars. Tons of noise too, for such an old and historic place.

  “Connor’s first apartment is right up here,” said Maddox, pointing through the windshield. “Three more blocks, then turn left.”

  I did, and we cruised to a halt before the blackened husk of a very large, very old, and very gutted three-story structure.

  “Damn.”

  A fire had raged here, and not a particularly friendly one. It had consumed the entire complex we’d been guided to, and part of the next building as well.

  “Dead end,” sighed Maddox in disappointment. Though he sounded distracted, his eyes were still scanning shrewdly in every direction. “Okay, what’s next?”

  “East side,” replied Austin, pointing. “Three miles that way.”

  He punched up a new address, then locked his phone into the dashboard holder. We’d all gotten new ones, immediately after our first run-in with the black SUV. And shit, I was just getting used to the old one.

  “Your brother lived here and he never had you out?” Maddox was asking.

  “Nope.”

  “Must’ve been in some shit then,” he
replied. “Connor always talked about you.” He smiled cheerily. “And he always looked forward to coming home.”

  I returned the smile, wishing I could go back in time. Wishing I could make things different with a simple warning, something that could change the sad path that ended his life.

  Choking back emotion, I followed the on-screen instructions directing us toward my brother’s second apartment. I rolled intentionally slowly, so I could take in as much of the city as possible.

  “Goddamit,” Austin said abruptly from the back seat. “I really wish your brother had contacted one of us.”

  Maddox nodded. “Or all of us,” he said. “Whatever he was up to, it was foolish of him to try and take it all on himself.”

  He seemed to regret the words immediately, glancing over at me with more than a little fear. But I only laughed.

  “Did you even meet Connor?” I quipped. “Since when have you ever known him to ask for help with anything?”

  Maddox grinned. Austin’s head bobbed in agreement. “Your brother was always giving the help rather than asking for it,” he said. “That’s probably why it was so hard for him to reach out.”

  We continued on, and the conversation drifted fondly to Connor. The little things he did. The quirks and idiosyncrasies he had, like always leaving the television on, or not closing the bathroom door whenever he used it. It was heartwarming to learn I wasn’t the only one who had to suffer these things. They’d lived through it too.

  In a strange but distant way, it kept his memory alive.

  “Did he jam all the condiments into random drawers of the refrigerator?” asked Austin.

  “Always,” I laughed. “I could never find anything.”

  “I think he did it on purpose,” smirked Maddox. “He didn’t even use ketchup but he was always stowing it somewhere. Hiding it away, and—”

  His sentence stopped so abruptly I actually turned to face him. His expression had gone suddenly serious. Even worse, his eyes were locked on the rear view mirror.

  “You see what I’m seeing?”

  “Yup,” Austin said from the back seat.

  I heard the click of a safety being flipped off. The ‘ka-chink’ of a round being chambered.

  Awww, shit.

  I checked the mirror as well. There was another vehicle, maybe three car-lengths behind me, rolling along at the same slow speed. I gripped the wheel tightly for a moment, then remembered to relax. If I had to act fast, having my arms locked and my shoulders tight could be a big problem.

  “What should I do?”

  “Nothing yet,” said Maddox. He’d abandoned the mirror and was looking over his shoulder now. “Hang a right, though. As soon as you can.”

  I did, and without signaling. Methodically, the other vehicle did the same.

  “This road cuts through,” Austin said, looking at his phone’s screen. “But it narrows first.”

  The two of them stared at each other, and a whole conversation passed between them. Austin smirked. Maddox nodded.

  I jumped a little as a third sidearm was tucked carefully into my lap. I could tell it was already cocked and loaded.

  “Pump the brakes hard when we tell you to,” said Maddox, “and come to a quick stop.”

  I was nervous. Scared. A little bit confused.

  But also thrilled.

  “It’s time for some goddamn answers.”

  Thirty-Eight

  DALLAS

  We waited until we’d passed the choke point, until the sidestreet had finished narrowing off and was about to open up again. That’s when Maddox double-tapped my knee, and I jerked the car to a stop.

  A split-second later, everything happened at once.

  The guys left the car from either side, doors flying open while they drew down on the vehicle behind us. Shots rang out — two quick ones fired into the air rather than at a target.

  I exited my own side, hunched behind the door and clutching my weapon. Moving rapidly, Maddox and Austin advanced on the car we’d all but trapped in the alley. There was nowhere for it to go but back. Barely enough room on either side of the vehicle to open the doors without hitting brick.

  “Easy, easy!”

  The vehicle stopped and two men got out, immediately holding their hands high in the air. My SEALs took each at gunpoint, patting them down, making sure they weren’t armed before shoving them face-down on the hood of what looked to be an old Ford Bronco.

  “Why are you stalking us?” Maddox demanded, grabbing one guy by the collar. “What are you trying—”

  “Orders.”

  Slowly I lowered my weapon. My two lovers looked at each other.

  “We’re only following orders, sir,” said the shorter of the now prisoners. “CPO Woodward sent us to warn you. To deliver a message, and—”

  Maddox twisted his grip and bore down. The driver of the other vehicle cried out in pain.

  “A warning?” he spat angrily. “Who the hell is Woodward to—”

  “Not from us, sir! From… from…”

  “Bro, ease up.”

  Austin’s words caused Maddox to look up. He gave him a firm nod.

  “I know Woodward,” said Austin. “Partially, anyway. He’s good people. If he sent these guys, they’re legit.”

  Slowly we all relaxed. Half a minute later everyone was standing upright, the guy driving the Bronco still rubbing at his neck.

  “Sorry if we spooked you,” the passenger said. He was taller than the driver and clean shaven, head and everything. Both men wore casual fatigues. “Woodward said you’d be coming. Told us to track you down, arrange a meeting with him.”

  Maddox still looked confused. “Who’s Woodward?” he asked, more to Austin then to the others.

  “One of the officers running a few things over here,” Austin replied. “Special programs. Biodynamics, I think.” He looked at the passenger. “Am I right?”

  “Yes sir,” the man said. “The Naval Biodynamics Lab is mostly shut down, but there’s a lot of residual. CPO Woodward’s been in charge of sewing things up. He’s not here now, though. Not for a couple days.”

  “That’s why they sent us,” the other soldier added. “We’re supposed to find you. Give you this.”

  He reached into a shirt pocket and pulled out a phone. It wasn’t a smartphone. It was one of those pre-loaded flip-open models, without any features. Exactly what the police and drug-dealers in movies were always calling ‘burner phones’.

  “CPO Woodward needs to meet with you,” said the driver. “He’ll call you when its right. Until then, he’s told us to instruct you to lay low. You’re being watched already…”

  At that, all four of them scanned the shadowy little alley. Everything was quiet but the sound of ambient city noise, way off in the distance.

  “Watched?” Austin asked skeptically. “We just fucking got here.”

  “We know. You checked into the Sierra a couple hours ago.”

  Maddox swore mightily, a whole stream of curses that ended in him shaking his head at the ground.

  “The car’s no good either,” one of the soldiers said. “We’ve been ordered to switch.”

  He tossed Austin a set of keys, and he caught them deftly. The two SEALs glanced at me, then each other.

  “So what now?” asked Maddox. “We sit on our hands until Woodward calls?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” the bald man said apologetically. “CPO says you should switch digs. Move into the French Quarter, where the crowds make it easy to blend in. We grabbed you a spot where you can disappear for the next 36 to 48 hours, until that phone rings.”

  “Relax a bit,” said the other guy. He even smiled. “Enjoy Mardi Gras.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Mardi Gras?”

  Suddenly it made sense. The noise. The traffic. The sheer number of people. We’d stuck to the upper part of the city, so we hadn’t really been around the bigger party areas. But now…

  “Mardi Gras…” I repeated in amazeme
nt.

  All four guys were staring at me now. Maddox’s mouth twisted into a smirk.

  “What, you really didn’t realize what month it was?”

  Thirty-Nine

  DALLAS

  Once we reached the heart of the city, it was like being immersed in splendor. For one, it was Friday night. The weekend before Fat Tuesday. The BIG weekend, or so I’d read, or so I’d seen in dozens of spectacular videos online.

  None of them however, did this party any true justice.

  The French Quarter was a stunning array of 18th century Spanish-style architecture, splashed with a modern flair. Walking its three-hundred year old streets was awe-inspiring enough, without bumping elbows with dragons and zombies and beautiful young men and women in painted masks. Everything I saw took my breath away; the fun and excitement of carefree carousal, the explosion of sights and smells and sounds that made up the weeks-long party of Mardi Gras.

  It was all so fucking awesome.

  The best part was the anonymity. We blended seamlessly into a crowd of thousands, and we could wear disguises to boot. After grabbing a round of drinks and some street-food we wound our way up Bourbon Street. We walked hand in hand to avoid getting separated, with me happily in the middle.

  “Masks?” asked Austin, approaching a vendor. “Just to be safer?”

  Maddox shrugged. “Why not?”

  A few minutes later both my lovers were sporting elaborately-made half-masks that covered both eyes and nose. Austin’s was some kind of black and red demon, which looked as fiercesome as it did cool. Maddox’s mask was painted to look like metal, all bolts and rivets and interlocking plates of steel, frozen in a warrior’s grimace.

  “Now you,” one of them said.

  “Already a step ahead of you.”

  I pulled them over to a second vendor, who was painting faces. I sat while she layered color after color over me, all around my eyes and cheeks. When she finally handed me a mirror and I was staring back at a blue and gold peacock mask, all wispy and feathery and beautiful.