Their Soldier Girl

Warriorville 1
Their Soldier Girl
[Siren LoveXtreme Forever: Contemporary Menage Romantic Suspense Romance, MFMMM, light spanking, HEA]
A survivor at fifteen, Lilly found her calling in the Army where she can help protect and empower women in danger.
After nearly dying a second time, she is forced to retire but still wants to make a difference and save women's lives.
Lilly is a social worker, therapist, and martial arts instructor, still keeping her skills sharp and her mind on work. She's had relationships before, but they failed because she can't commit and always has that fear of being abandoned.
When Lilly meets four soldiers she is attracted to, it seems not worth the risk, but their kisses are too hard to resist and their bodies make her lust for more. She takes a chance but still holds back out of fear that it won't last. She's caught in the middle of an abduction case and it hits home and brings that wall up a bit higher.
As the danger intensifies, so do the feelings and love for the four men. Lilly is a soldier through and through, even risking her own life to ensure this current victim doesn't wind up dead. She risks her life a third time, but this time she isn't alone, she has her men as backup.
Dixie Lynn Dwyer is a Siren-exclusive author.
Length: 36,000 words
WARRIORVILLE 1:
THEIR SOLDIER GIRL
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
Warriorville 1: Their Soldier Girl Copyright © 2019 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64243-988-5
First Publication: September 2019
Cover design by Les Byerley All art and logo copyright © 2019 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.
W A RNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
Dear readers,
Thank you for purchasing this legal copy of Their Soldier Girl. I hope you enjoy the town of Warriorville and all it has to offer.
Thank you again for your continued support.
Happy reading, my friends.
HUGS!!
Dixie
TABLE OF CONTENTS
WARRIORVILLE 1: THEIR SOLDIER GIRL
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
WARRIORVILLE 1:
THEIR SOLDIER GIRL
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2019
Prologue
P lease don’t let him find me. Please don’t let him hear me. Oh God, please, please, please help me.
The tears continued to fall, and she felt overheated. Her clothing was drenched in sweat, and Lilly had never been so scared in her entire life. Not ever. How could this happen? How could she have been so stupid and not even heard him approach and corner her behind the building? She was going to be beaten. He was going to beat her like he did her friend, Mary. She should have kept running the second she was able to get free, but he stormed the room, the old house he kept them both in, and she ran. She left Mary bleeding and beaten, maybe already dead. Keeber, her uncle’s friend, was a monster. He raped Mary. Said disgusting, terrible things to her.
I can’t leave her there, but I can’t fight him by myself either. Oh God.
She had to escape and get help. This was her opportunity. Her uncle’s friend, Keeber, lost his mind. She was petite and he was big. Six-foot-four, built like an ox, he didn’t hesitate hitting her or Mary. She shuttered and closed her eyes tight. She hugged the old pipe inside of the broken-down shed. It was behind a few old barrels of oil and some junky lawnmowers. She jerked when the old wooden shed door swung open, sounding like it was hanging on one hinge. Keeber was a mean son of a bitch. A retired soldier in the Army too short of a stint to even be respected, never mind his shitty personality. People stayed clear of him whenever he ventured into town. He was drunk, and even the local sheriff knew it but let him off for his crazy behavior because he served his country, too. Idiots.
The damn camaraderie between soldiers had to have limitations. How could soldiers, men who protected the innocent from violence and death, condone Keeber’s behavior? Unless all soldiers ultimately were like Keeber. Some made it obvious, and some hid it well. She didn’t know. Why was she even thinking about so many things right now when her concentration should be on remaining quiet and undetected. A next plan of action.
Run… run.
Keeber was abducting women, raping them and then killing them, leaving their bodies in the bayou, and tonight he may have killed her best friend, Mary. Lilly was next, but not before he raped her. She squeezed her eyes tight.
She could hear him walking around by the door, getting closer and closer to where she hid. She didn’t want to see the other bodies. The women killed by this monster. She didn’t, but he showed her. He made sure she feared him and his capabilities. She was fifteen, Mary was eighteen, and they were taken at the same time. He had abducted them while they cut through one of the alleyways behind the post office in town. They did it a thousand times before and never, never had anyone bothered them. Mary was a beauty. Long dark hair, deep blue eyes.
“I know you’re in here, little one. Come on out and let’s have some fun. You can’t go running off when things just got started.” He slurred his words and banged into something, making it fall to the ground.
She held onto the pole so tight and held her breath. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want him touching her, telling her how he was going to teach her to be a good woman, and how to please a man. He forced himself on Mary, and then beat her when she tried to fight him off. He beat on Lilly, made her do things to him. She felt the bile rise in her throat. That scent of sweat, beer, and tobacco and those hard, bruising hands would haunt her for the rest of her life if she even got out of here. Where were the police? Hadn’t anyone reported them missing? Didn’t they figure out that the killer was her uncle’s friend?
“Come on out. I can hear your fucking breathing, and I can smell your sweet scent. I know you’re a virgin. Barely fully grown, and you’re gonna be big up top. You need instruction, training. Now come on out! Now!” he yelled and then knocked over the lawnmower and reached down and grabbed her by her hair. She screamed aloud. She wasn’t going to let him rape her, to take from her body or do more harm to her like he did to Mary.
She scratched at the dirty ground while he used his massive strength to pull her up despite her resistance.
He lifted her up so easily, the monstrosity of a man, the maniac pulled her along as she screamed and tried grabbing at whatever she could reach. She gripped the grass hook and swung it at his chest. The blade made contact with his arm as it swooped upward and cut through the skin. He raged as he drop
ped her, and she scurried across the dirt.
“You stupid bitch! You’ll suffer for this. Fuck!” he roared and came at her with his fists, his arm bleeding, and then pounded on her body. She felt every punch, every kick, but she fought, scrambled across the dirt, and somehow got out of his grasp. Or at least she thought she did, but as she headed toward the woods, he yanked her back and started beating her into submission. He was too big, too strong, and soon her vision blurred, and dizziness filled her vision as he tossed her over his shoulder and headed toward the house. She was dazed and confused, the darkness adding to the terror she felt and the realization that she was never going to get out of here and this man was going to do with her what he wanted. The sound of his big, heavy boots stomping over the gravel and right to the old rickety front porch echoed more loudly then her own breathing. Her eardrums pounded, and she blinked and couldn’t even cry. She closed her eyes.
Lilly somehow blacked out, and when she came to she was on the kitchen floor in his house, their prison for the last few weeks.
“Clean this up. Get up and take care of your man.” He kicked at her as he sat in the chair, his shirt covered in blood. She couldn’t move. She grabbed onto the cabinets, then the chair to the table, but still her head pounded, her eardrums ached, never mind her side where he had kicked her and pounded on her with fists of steel.
He was breathing through his nostrils. He pulled off his shirt and then pressed the material to his bleeding arm.
“Mary! Get your fucking ass in here now, bitch!” he yelled.
Lilly closed her eyes, her face and body throbbed something terrible as she laid her cheek on the floor. It was so damn hot in the house, even in the evening in Louisiana, that the tiled floor wasn’t even cool. She wanted to die. Just pass out and die and never feel his hands on her or hear his voice, his degrading, sick orders to touch him, to pleasure him.
She heard moaning and crying and blinked her eyes open. He wasn’t there. She blinked again and again. What happened? Had she passed out? She saw the shirt, bloody on the table, but also a dress. Oh God, Mary. He was going to rape her again, oh God.
She lifted up, her head pounding, her body so weak and damaged, and she could hear Mary crying and that sick bastard striking her. Lilly was getting her bearings, sensing the pain against her skin and looked down to see that her top was ripped, her zipper on her shorts undone. She felt the ache, then burning against her breasts.
What is this? What did he do to me? Oh God, he touched me. He left marks on me.
She saw the round circles, the teeth marks and fingermarks. She’d passed out. She didn’t remember anything.
The whimpering got louder and louder, and his words, his disgusting descriptions of what he would do to Mary, echoed through the house. She sobbed, and Lilly looked around her, then up onto the counter. She lifted up. The anger, the disgust, the desperation to be free and to end this man’s life was her focus now. She had to end this. He was going to kill Mary, then rape and kill Lilly next.
Weeks, at least that was how long she believed he kept them here. Assaulting them, raping Mary, preparing Lilly to remain for a while so she matured and “ripened” as he liked to call it. Sick, disgusted feelings ruled her mind and a will to fight, to be free, and to stop this killer, this monster from hurting her, Mary, or any other woman again became Lilly’s focus.
The large knife came into view. It was on the counter. She pulled herself upward, fighting against the dizziness and taking several, unsteady breaths. She gripped the knife, and it was like she didn’t even realize she took the two steps closer to the counter and grabbed it. Her mind in a fog, the next thing she knew she somehow wound up by the doorway yet didn’t even remember walking there. She saw Keeber naked and hurting Mary, and Lilly screamed at him from the top of her lungs.
“Get away from her!”
He turned toward Lilly, who had the knife in hand. She saw Mary’s bloody, beaten face and body as Lilly screamed out in fear and determination and plunged the knife into Keeber’s chest. Keeber roared out in pain and slashed at Lilly’s body, but she jumped back and he landed on the ground, his eyes widened. Dark, black, evil.
Lillian Hayes awoke in a cold sweat, sitting upward in bed. She looked around the room, got her bearings, and knew she was far from Louisiana. She calmed her breathing as she touched the skin on her belly, making sure there were no bruises and it was just the nightmare once again. She knew she was going to have one. She had been working extra hours trying to help solve a case with the Texas Rangers, plus, she heard from Mary yesterday and things were rough for her. She had been dating some guy and things were getting serious, but then she panicked about sex, about revealing what happened to her, and distanced herself from him. Mary had an appointment with her therapist today, and Lillian hoped it helped her. God knows they both needed some serious counseling when they recovered from their physical injuries.
She slid her legs off the bed and looked at the bedside table. She took a drink of water and checked her phone. Not like she wouldn’t have heard it, even in a deep sleep in the middle of the night or anything, but she looked out of habit. She only got out of the Army a little over two years ago, and certain habits were just hard to break, like being a light sleeper or waking up at the crack of dawn, nightmares or no.
She shook her head, exhaled, and then stared at the picture on her nightstand of Mary, Lillian, and Mary’s mom and dad. The Monroes were good people, and their idea of leaving Louisiana and making a new start in Texas was exactly what Mary needed. Lillian followed a year later. Things were a bit different for her. Keeber hadn’t raped Lillian. He touched her, forced her to do things to him, but he wasn’t successful in raping her. Plus, it was Lillian who killed him, who took a knife and plunged it into his chest. It was something she needed to live with. Something that took a part of her and closed it up inside, locked the door, and threw away the key. No one as far as she knew would understand the results of such an action. Sure, the counselors emphasized that she was given no other choice or she and her friend would die. The police condoned self-defense and reminded her of the fifteen women her uncle’s friend had killed. Fifteen families lost a loved one, never mind the trickle down affect and how many more were affected and suffered.
If anything, the experience helped to direct her to a life profession. Well, maybe not initially. She thought about how she joined the Army at eighteen, went through basic training, and then pushed herself to become part of a specialized team of undercover operatives. She sought out the career as a means to destroy those demons and have complete control over her life, her decisions and destiny. She loved the order of things, the disciplinary tactics and feeling like she accomplished thigns that many other women, and even men, weren’t capable of. The career in itself was therapy from her abduction and assault. She lived for challenges, for someone to say she couldn’t do this or that because it was too hard, and she overcame those challenges in a fierce and dominant manner. Lillian’s desire to protect and save those who were weaker or didn’t have the means or abilities to defend themselves was therapy as well. Her distrust and ability to have an unreadable demeanor helped her to play her roles to perfection. Her life path zigged and zagged, and soon she was helping rescue abused women trying to escape capture from money-making slum lords in Turkey and Cyprus.
A year ago, she got caught up in a failed rescue attempt, because the source who informed them of a transfer was actually setting them all up to be killed. She took three bullets to her arm, her side, and her ass. Five of the undercover agents were killed, and two more survived like her. The operation was taken over by new soldiers, new informants, and Lillian and her team were forced to retire after recovering. That had really pissed her off, yet at the same time she felt like she was ready. She nearly died. It was one hell of a ride. Eight years later, twenty-six years old, she only knew how to be in the midst of danger, of conflict, and of victims who needed help. Leaving that life behind was strange, but her commander helpe
d her transition.