Chapter 1
TIGERLILLY
THE BRAVO BOYS
BOOK TWO
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THE BRAVO BOYS can be read as a stand alone series even though it is a continuation of THE SPECTER SERIES stories and takes place in the same ‘universe’..
If you are interested in reading more of my works, please check the following series order:
THE SPECTER SERIES
1. Hunting for Honey
2. Feilds of Clover
3. Broken Hearts & Coup D’etats
4. Secrets of Summer
5. Lace & Leather
6. The Colt & The Cobra
THE BRAVO BOYS
1. Killerwolf
2. Tigerlilly
3. Snake Eater
SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
1. Red Reaper
SPECTER SHORT STORIES
Halloween Special - ANGELMAKER The Southside Slayer
Christmas Special - Dasher & The Dancer
Valentines Special - Hellfire
1. Alfa
2. Bravo
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WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT KINK CONTENT, DRUG USE, STRONG VIOLENCE, SELF HARM AND SEXUAL ASSAULT THEMES THAT MAY BE DISTRESSING TO SOME
*****
Prelude
“I want to be with you, River..” She sighs in dramatic whimsy, her eyes wide like a cartoon doe and pink pouty lips pleading with me to kiss her..
“I wanna be with you too..” I rasp needily and my hands shake with a power like I’ve never known as my touch trails over the smooth shapely curve of her elegantly swan like neck.. Flesh like fine China, pearly white and aglow shivers beneath my fingertips as her lovely almond-amaretto eyes fixate on mine..
“Oh, Master.. Please..” Her soft pink lips part upon a breathless sigh of desire that burns me with it’s innocence..
I am no master.. Not hers.. Not even my own.. I am pathetic, weak and corrupted, defenceless to those base instincts that swell and rise to swallow me whole..
“Don’t call me that.” I growl, too harshly for my own liking, drawing her closer to taste her creamy complexion. I brush aside her pastel-pink silk strands to kiss her neck, breathing in the sweet waxy scent of lily and vanilla perfume..
Except she doesn’t wear any perfume.. She just smells that fucking delectable all on her own..
“Ohh.. Umm.. River--” She whimpers.. “Want to be yours.. Forever..”
A howling, insatiable hunger grows out of control in the pit of my stomach, and I struggle to swallow it back down.. Because she isn’t really mine.. Not at all..
Scooping her up in my arms, I carry her up the hall, passed Lovey dozing in her cot, all the way to the bedroom, where I set her down.. “Let me show you how it’s s’posed to be, Wallflower.. Let me give you the power you need..”
“How?” She whispers, her trembling fingers clutching onto my forearms so tightly her nails bite and pinch at my skin..
“I’ll give you control..” I take her nervous little hands in mine as I step back, sinking down to sit on the end of the bed so that she has the advantage of standing over me.. “You can do whatever feels right.. Or nothin’ at all.. Whatever you want, Wallflower.. I won’t stop you, I won’t get mad.. I’ll give you everythin’.. Every part of me.. Lilly, I’ll be yours..”
*****
River O’Riley
It’s all gone to hell, sideways in a storm of shite I should’ve seen coming..
But It wasn’t supposed to be this way..
She isn’t supposed to be here.. And none of this makes sense..
The pretty petrified lass looks up at me from her bloody knees, her hands tightly bound in gaff tape behind her back.. Sweet-mocha, almond coloured eyes are wide and filled with tears, pleading with me as the sobs wrack her slender fragile frame, muffled by the black tape over her mouth.. “Mmnmn! Mmm!!”
Her unnaturally pastel pink hair is messy and matted to the dewy damp skin of her flushed cheeks, beneath it I can see a dainty triangle surrounded by three roses tattooed in white ink on her neck, just behind her ear..
I swear I’ve seen the brand somewhere before.. Maybe on one of the working girls from Chinatown who had passed through the Foxhole a few years back, the downtown strip club where up until recently I would spend too much money and waste away my miserable time.. But I’d never considered asking her where she’d got it and I doubt she’d be easy to track down.
Is this pink-haired pretty just a street trick in the wrong place at the wrong time?
I don’t see how she could be, a fine lassie like her would be welcome to work at any joint, with a face like an angel and the body of a devil, she would make any madam or pimp more than enough money to earn her place..
A lovely thing to be sure, skinny and short, with a snowy white complexion the girl couldn’t be any older than twenty-five or so..
I don’t even know her name..
Or where the hell she came from.. All I know is she’s surely somebody’s daughter.. Maybe she’s somebody’s wife, sister or mother too.. I know she’s scared..
And I know she isn’t supposed to fucking be here.
“We gotta go! Do the job you were hired to do, O’Riley.. Kill the yellow bitch.. She’s seen your face, she fucking killed Johnny!” Shouts Dylan over the noise of the whirring air-conditioning ducts..
“SHUT YA DAMN DICK-TRAP, BECKETT, IM THINKIN’! FUCK!” The seconds stretch out into infinity and time slows as my adrenaline rises.. I pace back and forth, my grip tightening on the sleek, black M18 Sig Sauer Semi-automatic in my hand..
This wasn’t the job.. I never agreed to impromptu wetworks.. I might be a Marine for hire, but I’m not a hit-man.. I don’t kill unless under threat and this girl is no danger to Dylan Beckett or to me..
Except for the fact that she’s seen my face.. And just like her, I’m not supposed to be here either..
It’s a fine feckin mess I’m in.. Fuck fuck fuck!
Dylan practically foams at the mouth as he rants, the fear in his eyes as obvious to me as the fact that he’s been using again and is now jonesing for another hit.. Fucking junkies, you cant trust em, if i had known he was back on the pipe I’d never have agreed to any of this shite...“FUCK THINKING, YA STUPID MICKEY FUCK!! FUCKING SHOOT HER!!.. SHOOT HER, RIVER, OR I’LL SHOOT HER FOR YOU!”
I didn’t sign up for a slaughter, I came for the cargo and the cash..
Alright, so I’m not exactly some shining example of heroism.. But I’m not a heartless man.. Or at least I don’t want to be.. It’s just once again I find myself in the wrong goddamn place.. Surrounded by the wrong goddamn people..
Why I do this to myself, over and over again, I’ll probably never know..
Maybe It’s some kind of saviour complex instilled in me by the service.. Or maybe It’s because I came from a place so impoverished and steeped in suffering that I can barely stand to see the mistreatment of others.. Maybe it’s compensation for all the ways I have failed in the past..
Goddammit, I am determined not to repeat it again.. Not now that there is somebody who really needs me, relying on me.. Waiting for me to come home..
No.. Dying in this Chinatown parking lot is not an option.
There is no other way out, if I go through with this and If there really is a hell, there will be a place saved for me in its innermost sanctum, that’s for damn sure..
I don’t want to do it, but I don’t let that show in my actions as I lift the glock in one fluid movement, exhaling a final deciding breath, before I squeeze the trigger..
Like a goddamn executioner..
-BANG-
....
... Earlier that afternoon ...
“We get in.. We get out, boys.. No mess.. No blood.. Got it?” Dylan Beckett, the guy who finally called in his favour, looks between Johnny and me..
Beckett and I had served together in the Corps before getting out, and sure our lives had run in different directions after.. But he had seen me through some of the darkest days of duty. Beckett had been a decent friend and far be itself from me to judge him on his less than legal extracurriculars.. At the end of the day, he needed a body for the job and I need the funds.. I couldn’t say no..
Even though now I’m wishing I had..
“Aye? Hold up a sec will ya--” I lift a hand in his face to shut him up, already growing suspicious of his changing directions.. “I thought ya said the place would be empty.. Why would there be blood for then, Beck?”
Beckett glares at me..“It will be, its a fucking figure of speech, Riv, Christ!”
“Nah, I do’nae t’ink it is, to be fair..” I mutter before Johnny Kempsey elbows me in the ribs, signalling me to shut up.. So clearly he needs the cash as bad as me..
Dylan is the kind of suspect operator I’ve always had misgivings about, he walks the line between Government Agencies and Private firms and plays them off one with expert manipulation in order to get himself the best score..
Somehow the canny-bastard had picked up a Federal contract to disrupt opium distribution in the city, with the added perk of blind eyes above being turned to whatever else he might find to line his pockets while he’s at it..
I don’t know how he got the job or who it came from, so naturally when he called offering a fifty percent cut of a promised payday, I had been hesitant to get myself tangled in his duplicitous shit..
I am secure in my Bravo Team status at Specter, I take the jobs dished out, appreciate the gold standard healthcare benfits and don’t complain.. Only problem is there isn’t enough and the action calls to me.. So does the money..
“How many vans are marked?” Johnny asks with impatient irritation..
“Three all up, two with the drugs, one with the counterfeit bills..” Dylan makes it all sound too easy, a warning sign if ever I’ve seen one..
g here…
