Their Sin City Showgirl (The American Soldier Collection 7)

He grabbed her face and kissed her mouth. She grabbed him back, covering his hands with hers as the water continued to spray them. He released her lips and stared down into her eyes.

“You are incredible.”

She smiled and then she hugged him, and he never thought a hug could feel so right and fill such a gap in his heart that he had trained himself to ignore. She was special, and he would do everything in his power to prove it to her.

Chapter 6

Commander Frank Reynolds held the revolver in his hand. He knew that someone was in his home. He sensed it, as he called it into the department, directly to those he trusted. He had just finished showering and was getting ready for bed. It had been a long day downtown in the FBI headquarters. The few agents he trusted along with some detective friends were there too. He was the only one who knew where J.J. was, and that information was going to stay with him.

Frank called in his own team of friends and agents he trusted, as well as Sandman. It seemed that Sandman and his buddies knew a lot of people. Information was piling up on Congressman Dooley and the McCue brothers.

He heard something coming from downstairs. He slowly made his way down there, as the sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance. There was a crash to the right at the bottom of the stairs and he turned to see the man with the gun. The man fired a shot, and it missed Frank as he ducked and rolled then took two shots at the masked man. One hit his shoulder the other hit the wall behind the guy.

“Freeze right there, asshole,” Frank stated.

The guy ran toward the window, and as he crashed through it, Frank fired his weapon again.

He ran toward the broken bay window and saw the masked man lying over the bushes. Glass was everywhere as the police showed up. He turned around in time to see why the man had broken into his home.

The old chest of photographs was spewed about the floor. Pictures of J.J. with Anthony, and some with him and other friends. There was a knife stuck into the coffee table along with a note. Frank moved closer. His breath caught in his throat as the police entered the home. There was a note and a picture.

Give up Jacobs, or this one is next. There was a picture of Frank’s lover, Janelle, a detective in the police department and a friend of J.J.’s. They had been dating for months and were trying to keep it under wraps. He panicked as he pulled out his cell phone. He called her immediately as a few of his friends arrived on scene. He held up his finger and pointed to the table. They looked at it and then at him, as the phone kept ringing, but Janelle didn’t answer.

Finally, right before he was going to hang up or let it go to voice mail, he heard her voice. “Janelle, where are you?”

“I’m out with friends. What’s going on?”

“Someone broke into my home.”

“Oh, my God, are you okay?”

“Yes. I need you to get over here right away. Are you carrying?” he asked her.

“What do you think?”

He smiled. “That’s my girl. Be on alert. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly. Get here and be careful.”

“I got it.”

He disconnected the call.

As he looked around the room, and at all the pictures in the chest, he knew that someone close to him had given a tip about that chest and about Janelle. But who? These guys were getting desperate. They’d probably found out about evidence piling up against Congressman Dooley. He was going down. They just needed a little more time. Now he wondered what he was going to do about Janelle. At least J.J. was safe, and no one would find her out there.

Hell, this guy was ready to kill him if necessary. It seemed that Frank might be in some need of protection now, too.

* * * *

J.J. held the towel around her body. She had taken a few minutes to dry her hair while Brook went to get some clothes.

As she looked in the mirror, she saw the red marks on her breasts and little love bites along her skin. They stood out more than the bruises and she smiled. Calder, Brook, Conway, and Lincoln were amazing lovers. She blushed just thinking about what she’d done with them. She was lucky to have been placed here with them, and not with some other people that weren’t trustworthy. When she thought about that, she felt the bit of anxiety hit her gut.

She had conditioned herself to trust no one. Being an undercover officer meant relying on yourself and what you knew from seeing it with your own eyes. Gut instincts played a huge role in her job, and if she had truly been listening to her gut instincts that night at the casino, she would have declined the offer to have dinner with the McCues. But that was why she was there. She needed to infiltrate the organization and decipher who the rapists and killers were. Marlee, Denise, and even Tara had died horrible deaths. J.J. closed her eyes and thought about Tara and the scene that had unfolded before her.

Did Marlee suffer the same thing? Had Dooley raped her, played out his fantasy act, and then slit her throat? All while others looked on, laughing, enjoying their drinks and their own women? It made her sick. She could have died there in that room. Dooley could have chosen her. The McCues could have sexually assaulted her right at the table, with hands between her thighs and nowhere for her to escape. As she thought about it now, it almost felt like a movie, and she was watching everything happening. Yet, she felt it all, too. She felt the strange, male fingers pressing her thighs apart. The only protection was the dress she wore, but even that failed to protect her from their touch. They were going to make her go up to their room. They’re going to rape me.