Hearts on Fire 8: Saving C.C. (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Hearts on Fire 8: Saving C.C.
C.C. Walker has had a sad, tough life. She's ready to move on and start living again. When she takes her beat up car on the road and decides to let fate step in and grab the wheel, she never expects to wind up five hours down south in a place called Treasure Town. But her hunk a junk calls it quits and her new motto in life is "let fate decide," and that's exactly what it does.
As she waits in a bar, she hears about a job opening. One look around the crowded place and the cool first responders and she loves it. She snags a job. It's the beginning of her new adventure and life. But her heart is heavy from the loss back home and she's not quite ready to date, until she meets those two mechanics again, and their other two brothers. Sparks fly and she finally feels happy again.
Things seem perfect until the detective from New York tells her there's a killer on the loose and he's responsible for both her brother's death and her boyfriend's. It's nearly too late when they realize the killer is after her. She's his prize and he's coming to Treasure Town to claim her.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 47,402 words
HEARTS ON FIRE 8:
SAVING C.C.
Dixie Lynn Dwyer
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
HEARTS ON FIRE 8: SAVING C.C.
Copyright © 2015 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-859-2
First E-book Publication: November 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Hearts on Fire 8: Saving C.C. by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Claiming C.C.
It is easy to fall in love when you haven’t felt the pain of losing a lover. But when you sustain a series of losses as C.C. has, your heart hardens and your ability to trust, to let the walls around your heart down and learn to love again becomes a difficult, almost incapable task.
C.C. is a fighter, she’s run from her old life and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone but herself. But as Mercury, Jenks, Kyle and Frank St. James come into her life when she least expects it, they show her that she doesn’t have to be alone and that sometimes fate steps in and finally heals her heart. She can run from her past and from the sadness and fears she has, but eventually it will catch up with her.
As strong as a fighter she is, it may just take the skills, determination and love of her men to help her survive.
May you enjoy C.C.’s story, as she begins a new life in Treasure Town with four men that heal her and show her love is a powerful thing indeed.
Happy reading.
Hugs.
~Dixie~
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
About the Author
HEARTS ON FIRE 8:
SAVING C.C.
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
C.C. Walker kissed her niece, Lola, and nephew, Bobby, goodbye. She didn’t know when she would see them again, but she knew she had to leave and move on or she would continue to suffocate here in New York.
They held on tightly, and she looked at her sister, Clare, arms crossed, anger in her eyes, and the first thoughts that came to C.C.’s head were that her sister was only angry because now she would be forced to move on and get out of her state of depression. She had kids to raise and a whole life ahead of her. Although she’d lost her husband, at least she had the opportunity to love and get married and start a family. C.C. hadn’t. Staying here made her dwell on her own boyfriend’s death, which had followed the tragic loss of her brother-in-law and her brother, Banks.
C.C. rubbed Bobby’s hair. “You be a good boy for mommy. You remember to call me whenever you want.”
He nodded then took his baby sister’s hand, and they headed toward the toy box in the living room.
C.C.’s bags were packed and the car full of what little she had. She and Parker had only started seeing one another in the past couple of months. Although it was new, it was still exciting, and she thought she had found the man she was going to marry. She swallowed hard.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Just packing up and heading out of town. It isn’t right. It isn’t fair, not when I’m stuck here and have to deal with all this heavy shit on my own,” Clare said to her in anger.
C.C. took a deep breath and released it slowly. She had to ignore that pull to take care of her sister like she had been the past six months. It was making Clare so dependent she didn’t lift a finger anymore. It was time to suck it up and be a mother and provider and move on.
“You need to deal with it because you’re their mother. They lost their father and their uncle, and now you need to work double time to make sure they never forget Lionel and Banks and the sacrifice they made. I can’t do it for you, Clare.”
“And tell them what? That the detectives can’t figure out if it was arson or not? That it’s possible some crazed arsonist set him and our brother up to die in a fire because he didn’t like firefighters and what they stand for? I can’t do that. It isn’t fair,” Clare stated through clenched teeth.
“You have to. It’s part of being a wife to a firefighter. You have so much support and all your friends. You have Mom, too, and the guys from the firehouse. You’ll be just fine. I have to go. I have to.”
C.C. thought about how they had lost their dad years ago. When would the suffering end?
“I know you think you loved Parker, but he was just a boyfriend, some guy you slept with. Lionel was my husband for six years. We had two children together. You can’t compare your loss to mine.”
C.C. felt her chest tighten. She never would compare that, but this was another reason why she needed to leave here. Her sister had become so dependent on her that she wasn’t living her life. Instead, C.C. was living her sister’s life. Her words hurt. She had no right to minimize what C.C. and Parker had. It had been new, but it was special. Plus Banks was C.C.’s brother too, but she couldn’t take being around their friends. The ones who lost two firefighters. It was as though they’d all decided that they knew what was best for C.C.
“I never compared the two. I’m sorry you’re having a problem with me leaving. One day you’ll understand and maybe even thank me for making the separation. You need to live your life. I need to live mine. I love you forever, Clare, as well as Bobby and Lola. Take care of yourself and be strong. I know you can do it.”
She exited the door and heard her sister crying, but C.C. hadn’t expected to hear something shatter against the door as she headed down the pathway. But she needed to do this. Plus, she wasn’t happy with the way she felt being a social worker for the Red Cross. She kept getting a creepy sensation lately. As though someone was watching her or something bad was going to happen to her. Was it her own subconscious playing tricks on her because of the tragedy that had struck her family and her personal life? She didn’t know, but her gut told her to get out of there and start living again. Maybe starting over would get rid of that negative, fearful energy now surrounding her. Lionel and Bank’s killer was still at large and unidentified. She knew someone had purposely set those fires. Perhaps that added to her fearful state of mind. But before she started getting paranoid and thinking that Parker’s death was somehow connected to the others, she needed to get out of town.
She thought about Detective Chris Factor, a good friend of her brother and a man who’d taken it upon himself to get involved with the investigation. He was a nice guy. In fact, she’d thought she might have feelings for him, but she was already seeing Parker. Chris promised her that he would figure things out and bring some closure to all of them. After all, Chris knew Lionel and Banks well and hung out with them a lot. She was tired of thinking about this situation every waking minute of every day.
She gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath. She glanced at the house, felt that twinge of guilt, and then wondered if she was making the right move. She’d been over it so many times. It was right, and she needed to go. So what that she’d really only traveled alone a handful of times. She could do this.
She put the car into drive and headed out of the development. Her hunk of junk sounded as if it was on its last leg. She would deal with it as far as it got her and then decide her next move. She felt desperate to be free and get away from the town and all the sadness. God, please help me. Direct me to where to go and help me to survive. I need to live. I need to find a special place that will put all this behind me. Please let me find it.
She headed toward the highway going south. She could do this. She could drive until something got her to stop. She’d know exactly when she got there. The circumstances would present themselves because she had faith.
* * * *
Kyle St. James stood by the opening in the garage bay at the shop listening to his brother Frank ramble off the supply order. Kyle held the iPad in his hand and added the items and then checked them off on the supplier’s site. He double-checked them and re-read them to Frank, who nodded.
They had been working together for the past several years after taking time off to focus on their own careers. Kyle stretched out his arm and rotated it, feeling only a slight ache in his shoulder but enough of a reminder of the bullet he’d taken four years ago. Being a cop in New York City had been his life. He loved it, missed it, and wished he hadn’t have gotten shot. But it could have been worse. He could be dead like his partner, Doland.
He swallowed hard and caught sight of Frank stretching and then yawning. His brother was a Marine, retired a few years back and now helping their fathers with the mechanic shop and gas station. It was a gold mine, right on the edge of town before the bridge that led in and out of Treasure Town. Everyone filled up there before they headed out, and all locals and visitors got their cars fixed there. As he looked around the place, it brought back memories of growing up in Treasure Town, of hanging out with his other brothers, Mercury and Jenks, and having a blast. Frank and Jenks were the adventurous ones. Always looking for that adrenaline rush, whether it be skydiving, cliff climbing, or other crazy shit. He could have lost having this time with them. He could have died, and coming back to town and gaining some normalcy back was slowing making him see things clearer. Frank was a hardass, tight-lipped Marine, filled with piss and vinegar, and it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about the Corps and what had happened while he served. His tight-lipped ways led him to being somewhat anti-social. But Kyle was okay with that because they lived together and spent a lot of time together, and that guaranteed that their brotherly bond was building stronger and stronger.
“Are you going to the Station tonight? I heard that band your brother’s friends are in is playing,” Tyrone, one of the mechanics, asked him.
“Not sure. I might. I have to see if Mercury is going,” Kyle replied.
“How about you, Frank?” Tyrone called to Frank.
Frank shook his head and finished up working on the small Ford Focus. He closed the hood and looked at Tyrone.
“Tyrone, bring this across the way to the car wash and then park it out front. Kyle will call Mrs. Wheeler and let her know it’s ready. If she needs a ride here, pick her up, but I think she said her son was around and can drop her back off.”
“No problem.” Tyrone got into the car. Frank and Kyle moved out of the way.
“You sure you’re not interested in heading over to The Station tonight? It could be fun to hear the band,” Kyle said to Frank.
“Not interested.”
Kyle watched Frank go over to the toolboxes and start putting the things back he’d used. He was always so organized, unlike Mercury, who would leave shit around years ago when they worked in the shop together. It was amazing that their kid brother was a paramedic and that Jenks had become a firefighter.
Kyle walked into the office and then something caught his eye. He saw some smoke and heard horns honking.
“What the hell?”
* * * *
C.C. listened to the radio, driving for hours and heading past the numerous beach towns. The loud muffler, the sputter and jerks of the engine wouldn’t deter her from continuing down the highway. She was determined to be happy. She wanted to make it on her own, find a new life, a new sense of belonging.
She wiped her brow with her forearm and glanced at the dials on dashboard under the steering wheel. She saw the little arrow creeping toward the red zone. That wasn’t good. Her heart began to race as she glanced around her, wondering what she should do. Stay on the highway? Get off? The AC was broken, and the car was a piece of shit, but it was what she had
for now, that and her money from her savings account. The windows were all down, and she was cruising along in the right lane, passing the first few exits for beach towns. The car jerked forward, and she heard a loud noise, and then her hunk of junk began to sputter and smoke.
“Are you freaking kidding me? Not even five hours of driving from upstate New York and this happens?” She took the next exit, no clue as to where she was headed.
She couldn’t find a gas station or a mechanic shop until she headed closer toward the beach town. She saw the main entrance before a small bridge. Treasure Town-Welcome to Paradise, the sign read.
“Paradise? God, I hope so because I may be stuck here for a while.”
She debated about stopping before the bridge. It didn’t look as if there was anything but souvenir shops, a few low-level hotels, and tourists. Should she just stop here and get it towed, or was there something better on the other side? C.C. took a deep breath and felt the pull to go up the bridge. Her car continued to sputter and smoke so much she could barely see. Then she caught sight of the numerous businesses, the crowded beaches, and the boardwalk. She spotted the large sign, Treasure Mechanics. She was barely by the entrance when the car died. Right there in the middle of a semi-busy road. The first thing she did was hit the hazard lights. The blink, blink sound was a reminder of the other many times this crappy car had her stuck on the side of the road.
She slammed her hand on the steering wheel, shifted it into neutral, and got out of the car. She’d done this before, at least five times, and the car always survived once she got it to a mechanic. Could it really be on its last leg? Shit.