Fearless_The Alpha Bodyguard Series Read online

  Addis slammed his palm against Santos’s chest, restraining him.

  “I might be available.” Luna played the game.

  “Good.” Then I took the risk I needed to take, which was the whole point in me making the fucking call. “Get your woman and kid settled in, then wait for my call.” I turned my glare on Santos for effect, hoping like fuck Luna picked up on my cryptic shit. “You may be gone a while.”

  I HEARD THE VOICES COMING from the living room.

  Frantic, tugging on my restraints, I tried to pull anything lose I could. But the more I struggled, the tighter they felt.

  I gave my arm a hard yank and heard a gunshot.

  Freezing, my breath left my body.

  The voices stopped, and I hoped Dante was dead. I prayed Santos was too. I wanted them both so dead, I wanted to see their blood spilled all over the floor. The thought scaring me almost as much as the thought of them not being dead, I listened.

  My heart hammering, my body shaking, my circulation in my wrists and ankles nonexistent, I listened.

  Then Dante spoke.

  A half cry, half sound of despair escaped past my gag, and I yanked on my restraints again.

  I was still pulling on them when I heard footsteps coming down the hall.

  My dress shimmied up, naked from the waist down, a mess between my legs I could only feel, anxiety ripped through my veins and threatened to choke the precious little air I was getting from my panicked breaths. But when I heard the voice in the hall, my heart almost stopped.

  I recognized that voice.

  I’d never forget that voice.

  But… how was that possible?

  I didn’t have time to think about it.

  His face twisted with rage, Santos walked into the room as he spit words over his shoulder. “I’ll do what I fucking want, when I want.”

  A man walked in behind him.

  A six-foot-three-inch, muscled all to hell bodyguard I knew by name.

  Ty.

  My heart stopped.

  Then started even faster as traitorous hope filled every pore of my being and my body sank under a blanket of relief so immense, I thought I’d disappear in to the mattress.

  But then he opened his mouth.

  “This is Dante’s asset?” Disgust spread across his cut features.

  Every last ounce of hope I’d harbored shattered and hit the decimated remains of my shredded dignity that was lying on the floor next to my ripped underwear and spent tampon.

  Ty glanced at Santos. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  “What the hell do you care? She’s mine,” Santos snapped.

  Addis walked into the room, glanced at me and shook his head before looking at Santos then Ty. “Both of you get out here. We’ve got cleanup.”

  Ty scanned the mess between my legs, but he didn’t move.

  Eyeing me like I was his last supper, Santos licked his lips. “I didn’t fucking pull the trigger. Make your new bitch clean up his own mess.” He stepped toward the bed. “I got shit to do.”

  Ty’s jaw ticked.

  It was the only warning I saw.

  Faster than lightning, he reached with both hands at once to Santos’s holsters and grabbed his two guns.

  Shoving one against the back of Santos’s head, he jammed the other in his back waistband. “Addis told you to get the fuck outside for cleanup.”

  Santos’s nostrils flared. “Pull the trigger, motherfucker, I dare you.”

  “Enough!” Addis snapped. “Both of you, outside, now.”

  Neither of them moved, but it was Santos who spoke. “You’re dead motherfucker, you hear me? Dead.”

  “Go ahead and try,” Ty taunted, his hardened gaze sweeping up my body before landing on my eyes again. “Give me a reason to pull the trigger.”

  Santos let out an insane laugh. “Tell him, Addis. Tell him how it works around here.”

  Addis gritted his teeth, but he didn’t say anything.

  Still holding the gun to Santos’s head, Ty stared me down, but it was as if he didn’t even see me.

  Santos laughed again. “That’s right.” He slowly turned to look at Ty as Ty kept the barrel against his head, only now it was right between his eyes.

  I silently begged for Ty to pull the trigger.

  “I’m Dante’s cousin, motherfucker.” Santos grinned. “You can’t shoot me.”

  Addis put his hand over the barrel of the gun, making Ty lower his aim. “Both of you outside, right now. I don’t have time for this shit.” He walked out.

  Santos snickered then looked at me and winked. “Wait for me, puppet.” He followed Addis.

  I involuntarily gagged.

  Ty stared, and traitorous hope surged like a tidal wave.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  Glancing between my legs, his nostrils flared. Then he did the last thing I needed him to do. He pivoted.

  Jerking on my restraints, I tried to scream stop through the gag, but all that happened was the bed rattled and a muffled sound died before it could echo across the tile floors.

  His back to me, Ty didn’t even pause.

  He walked out.

  Bile rose, and I thought I would choke on my own vomit.

  He was one of them.

  He was one of them.

  ENRAGED, I FOLLOWED SANTOS DOWN the hall.

  I was going to kill him.

  Slow.

  Then I was going to kill him again.

  The blood between her legs….

  I shook my head.

  It better be her fucking period or I was going to gut Santos before I killed him.

  Addis stormed through the living room with his phone to his ear and threw open the slider door that now had a bullet hole in it. He hung up and toed Tavish before glaring at me. “Carry him to the dock and put him on Huller’s boat. He’ll take it from there.”

  “Who the fuck is Huller?” I asked as some Tavish look-alike fuck in aviators came up the stairs.

  “The captain,” Addis answered before nodding at the new fuck. “Thomas, this is Ty. He’s in charge while I’m gone. Take Tavish’s position.”

  The new fuck, who looked about sixteen fucking years old up close, nodded without comment. Then studiously ignoring Tavish’s body, he stepped around him and went to the far end of the glass slider, backed into it and held his rifle in front of him with both hands like he was gripping the side of a life raft.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Santos reached down and snagged Tavish’s bloody sunglasses off his corpse. His attitude from earlier suddenly gone, he shoved the glasses in his pocket and patted down Tavish’s pants until he found the telltale bulge in his front pocket. Yanking out a wallet, he went through it and pulled out the cash. Pocketing the money he pilfered, he tossed the wallet on Tavish’s stomach. “So long, sucker.” He turned back toward the house.

  “Halt,” Addis roared.

  Santos paused, but then his hands went to his hips. “I don’t have time for this shit,” he mocked, mimicking Addis’s line from inside. “I got a woman waiting.”

  Addis drew, beating me to it. But he didn’t aim at Santos’s head. The bold fucker aimed at his cock.

  “You will carry Tavish’s goddamn body to the dock, or you won’t have a dick left to fuck with.” Gritting his teeth, Addis enunciated every word.

  “Make me,” Santos taunted, unfazed.

  Addis held his aim. “Dante may have said no one can shoot you, but he sure as fuck didn’t mention not sterilizing you.”

  Santos still didn’t move. He grinned.

  “Test me,” Addis warned.

  Santos laughed. “You don’t have the balls.”

  Addis fired a single shot and the deck splintered between Santos’s feet. “Next round I take out your balls.”

  “Fucking pussy shot,” Santos grunted, but he finally moved. Glaring at Addis, he shoved past me and grabbed Tavish by the ankles. Then he dragged the body across the deck and down the stairs.


  Addis and I stared as what was left of Tavish’s head hit every motherfucking step on the way down.

  I scanned the trail of blood down the steps. “He’s making a goddamn mess.”

  “He is a goddamn mess,” Addis clipped, before glancing at me. “Bleach is in the laundry room. I have to go. Dante is waiting.”

  “Sloppy work putting you and the boss on the boat with two dead bodies.” Fishing, I said two on purpose.

  Addis didn’t deny it. He stared at the trail of blood Santos was making with Tavish’s body as he dragged him across the sand.

  “How many men am I in charge of while you’re gone?”

  “Fifteen.” He turned to give me a look. “Now.”

  “How the fuck are they gonna know not to shoot me if I come across them?”

  “They were all texted your picture, but don’t stray from the house. Leaving Santos unattended with the girl isn’t a good idea.”

  Using every skill the Marines taught me, I bit back every ounce of rage I had and kept my expression locked. “That motherfucker should be in a cage. I’ve been here five fucking seconds and I can tell you that if you need her for ransom, you don’t let a sick fuck like Santos near her.”

  Addis stilled. Then he narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t say she was being held for ransom.”

  “Why the hell else would you have a chick tied to a bed that Dante himself told me to protect? And why the fuck does your entire crew get a cell phone and I don’t?”

  Buying my explanation, Addis inhaled then let it out. “I’ll get you one when we get back. You have Santos’s phone for now.”

  “Just like I have his guns? I need something fucking real to shoot with if you want me to protect shit while you’re gone.”

  “Trust me, it’s better if Santos isn’t armed.” Addis glanced at Tavish’s rifle that was lying on the deck with blood splatter all over it. “Clean up the M16, and you can use that.” He headed toward the stairs.

  “Hey,” I snapped. “How long you gonna be gone?” I needed to know exactly how much time I had to get Ludeviene the fuck off this island. Christensen’s boat wasn’t going to be in position for another couple hours.

  “A few hours, a few days.” Addis shrugged. “I’ll be in touch.” He went down the stairs and across the sand, walking up the dock steps as Santos was coming down.

  Whistling to himself, his hands in pockets, Santos had two new guns in his holsters.

  “Motherfucker,” I muttered.

  “Sir?” the kid on the deck asked.

  Santos looked up as he walked across the sand.

  I glared at him.

  The fucker winked. Then he bypassed the stairs and walked under the house.

  I looked at the kid. “Is there another entrance to this place?”

  “The main house?”

  Yeah, the main fucking house, where the fuck else? “Yes,” I snapped. “Another entrance, where is it?”

  “Around back?” Nervous as fuck, the kid answered it like a question as he took off his sunglasses. When he hung them on his shirt, he almost dropped his rifle.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you ever even fired that AR-15?”

  He held the gun closer. “Yeah.”

  “How fucking old are you?” Goddamn it, I didn’t want to kill him, but I would if I had to.

  “Twenty-two, sir,” he croaked, like his voice was still changing and his balls hadn’t dropped.

  “Bullsh—”

  I was cutoff midword as a crash sounded from inside the house.

  I grabbed the bloody M16 off the deck and ran inside.

  WHISTLING, TWO GUNS BACK IN his holsters, Santos walked into the room by himself.

  Fear crept up my spine.

  Not making eye contact, not even looking at the bed, he kicked the door shut, then turned in a circle as he kept whistling something out of tune. Striding to the opposite side of the wardrobe, he looked at it a moment.

  Then with one giant push, he toppled the whole thing.

  It crashed to the polished tile floors with an earsplitting crack and blocked the door.

  But Santos wasn’t finished.

  He shoved it tight against the only escape for the room unless you wanted to jump out the second-story window.

  The gag, soaked by my own spit, cut into the corners of my mouth as I pulled against my restraints.

  Santos turned and grinned at me. “Now, where were we?”

  I glared at him.

  Stalking toward the bed, he unbuckled his belt.

  Fear overtook anger and I forgot about staying quiet.

  Shoving his pants down, he crawled between my spread and bound legs.

  I started to scream.

  And scream and scream and scream.

  My restraints cut into my wrists and fear bled out of my pores, mixing with the acrid scent of his sweat and my blood, but nothing except muffled cries sounded past my gag.

  “What’s wrong, puppet,” he practically sneered, stroking himself. “Never fucked on your period before?”

  I’d never fucked at all.

  He gripped a handful of my hair and nudged at my inner thigh. “You’re in for a treat, bitch.”

  Sheer panic had my body arcing to try to throw him off, but it was useless. I was tied down and gagged, and he was almost twice my weight. Terrified, incensed, helpless, I did the only thing I could think of.

  I sucked in a deep breath.

  Then I held it and went still, forcing myself to let my body go limp.

  His heavy weight pressed down on me for one heartbeat, two…

  “Hey,” he snapped. “What the fuck?”

  I lay perfectly prone.

  His weight shifted, and a swift movement of air disturbed my hair before his hand made contact with my face.

  The fucking asshole slapped me.

  Then he slapped the other side of my face.

  Blood soaked into the gag, but I lay motionless.

  Someone pounded on the bedroom door, and my heart jumped, but I still lay perfectly still.

  Whoever it was banged again.

  Then I heard his deep voice. “Open the fucking door, Santos,” Ty growled, banging again.

  Ignoring Ty, Santos moved over me, then the restraint across my head loosened a second before he slapped me harder. “Wake the fuck up, bitch.”

  The echo of the slap sounded through the bedroom, and my head whipped to the left.

  Ty rattled the door. “Open up, motherfucker!”

  Blood pooled in the back of my throat, my hair covered my face, but I still didn’t move.

  I was waiting.

  My head was unrestrained, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough. All I needed to do was wait until he got his head close enough to mine, then I could make my move.

  But Santos did the last thing I expected.

  He plugged my nose.

  My reaction was immediate.

  My eyes popped open, I tried to suck in a breath past the gag and I jerked away from him.

  His face red, his breath rancid, he laughed. “That’s what I thought.” He grabbed my throat, releasing my nose. “You wanna breath play, bitch?” He squeezed my throat. “I’ll fucking give you breath play.”

  I screamed around the gag.

  The door to the bedroom shook hard, then the wood by the handle splintered.

  Santos chuckled as he yanked my bra down. “Don’t worry, puppet. Your savior won’t get in here before I get you good and fucked.”

  A chunk of the wood from the door flew into the room a second before the barrel of a rifle came through the hole.

  “Last chance, Santos,” Ty warned, his voice low and controlled. “Open the door or die.”

  Santos didn’t even pause.

  His hand on his dick, he surged toward me.

  His body touched between my legs, and a gunshot went off.

  The headboard splintered, and Santos moved.

  Rolling to his back, crossing his arms, he grabbed both guns
at once. Whipping them out of the holsters, uncrossing his arms, he started firing at the door with both guns.

  The sound deafening, the room filling with the smell of metallic burning, the door fractured into shards of wood.

  But Santos didn’t stop. He fired every last one of his bullets. Then he smirked and crossed his arms, shoving his guns back in his holsters. “Now.” He leered at me. “Where were we?” He rolled on top of me.

  My heart in my throat, it was now or never.

  I pushed my head back into the pillows to get as much leverage as I could.

  But before I thrust my head forward, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

  The window overlooking the ocean shattered as Ty flew through it. Holding the exterior top sill with one hand, a rifle in his other, he aimed at Santos’s head as his feet hit the floor.

  “Get. The fuck. OFF HER.”

  HIS DICK IN HIS FUCKING hand, Santos sneered. “You can’t shoot me, motherfucker.”

  Can and would. “I don’t give a fuck who you’re related to. Dante said to protect the asset.”

  White as a fucking ghost and looking panicked as fuck, Ludeviene’s eyes darted between me and the piece of shit lying next to her.

  “The asset can’t have a little fun?” Emphasizing asset, Santos mocked me.

  I raised my aim from his dick to his head. “She look like she’s having fun?”

  Like a fucking amateur, the kid stuck his head through the hole that used to be the bedroom door. “Everything okay, boss?”

  Two sets of footsteps came up the outside stairs.

  Fuck.

  I kept my aim on Santos. “Tell the others to stand down, kid. Resume your post.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  Santos smirked, then the fucker stroked himself. “Unless you want to stay and watch how it’s done, kid.”

  “On it, boss.” The kid couldn’t retreat fast enough. “Hey,” he called to whoever the fuck had come in the house. “We got it covered. All’s good. Go back to your posts.”

  “What the fuck happened?” a deep voice asked.

  “Santos” was all the kid said.

  A collective laugh went through the living room.

  “Thomas,” I warned, yelling over my shoulder, my glare steady on Santos.