[Ménage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Ménage Romance, M/F/M/M/M/M, M/F/M/M, Multiple Partners, BDSM] The Remingtons are faced with tremendous loss. Their father is gunned down in front of them. After the smoke clears, the only thing left is their need for revenge and their desire to protect those they love. But there will be heartache before they find their truest love. READ MORE
Excerpt Rated PG13
Copyright © 2010
Wilson Remington wasn’t ready to leave, but his sons arrived early and they weren’t there without a harrowing purpose.
Remington was a wanted man. His sons and their men surrounded the two dark SUVs as soon as they disembarked. They assumed combative positions.
Their eyes were alert, their jaws set. Those making their cautious approach were prepared to die, but they wouldn’t enter the gates of heaven before they first sent a few of their enemies straight through the fires of hell.
Wilson took a deep breath and examined his sons. He’d enjoyed too few opportunities to revel in the pride he felt, and even today there wasn’t enough time to convey everything he wanted to say.
He watched each of his boys, studied their faces, and recaptured yesteryear’s memories. Remembering their births, their first steps, their youth, and their inevitable training with the Underground Unit, he clutched to those limited images because they were his last.
In the distance, he heard the crushing of leaves crunching under a soldier’s boot. Birds scattered, chirping when they departed. No doubt someone waited close enough to see beads of perspiration form on his brow.
Wilson Remington didn’t sweat. If the assassin looked close enough, he may have been disappointed.
Wilson realized a light gleamed on the back of his head. He knew the shooter and the person who handed down the orders to kill, and by God, he understood why.
His sons wouldn’t grasp the logistics of this particular hit, at least not right away. Instead, they’d remain as they had in the past and prove themselves anything but tolerant while they searched for the hidden objectives behind the reasons. They wouldn’t stop looking for his killer, and the shooter behind him was undoubtedly there with one job to do, one task at hand.
Everything was just as it seemed—perfect, timed, even calculated to a fault. Death arrived. It didn’t knock on his door with a light peck. Oh no, death came for him the same way he once lived. His last second crept up without a sound and then waited and watched for the perfect opportunity to announce its arrival with a sudden bang.
Sloane, Dusty, Logan, Benson, and Drew realized what was at risk when they came there for him. They’d insisted on transferring him to a safe house by themselves.
What a fucking mistake.
Wilson should’ve told Sloane to handle his brothers. He possessed the experience and the leadership to pull off anything he might have requested. Hell, Sloane could’ve sent them all on separate missions. Then again, this was the final goodbye.
Now in the line of fire, he faced his regrets. Could there have been another way? Did he want his sons to watch him die?
He gulped rather than allow himself one final inner debate, filling his lungs with the last intake of fresh air. The scent of death filling his nostrils only burned him with profound recognition.
He was a dead man. He would die in front of his sons.
“Dad?” Dusty greeted him with concern in his voice.
“Back the fuck up, Dusty,” Sloane ordered, stepping beside his younger brother and slapping his right arm across Dusty’s chest.
Fear etched a patchwork quilt of splotched recognition across his sons’ faces in a matter of seconds.
Sloane’s eye twitched. Leaves scattered. The trees blew a last sudden wind.
Yes, son! Yes! Get them out of here!
Wilson stepped a few inches to the left. The shooter behind him earned a clear shot, and Sloane hurriedly surveyed the area around them, glancing to the right and narrowing his gaze. But it was too late.
The second hand of life struck death. Wilson Remington’s time was up.
“Dad!” Sloane screeched.
There wasn’t a blaze of glory, but the shots heard would forever be remembered by those who fired them in retaliation. In the middle of the Midwestern fields once known as the Remington and Weaver ranches, Wilson Remington lay dying as the familiar sounds of a private war broke out around him.
Run, boys. Run.
He was tired of the controversy and the continual conflict. He lived as a warrior, fighting the wars no one else wanted fought. He didn’t want his boys to die like he lay there dying. No, no one deserved to die an unknown soldier’s death. Maybe this was the final lesson he had left to teach. He wanted his sons to remember how he departed this world so they never found themselves in their own pools of blood.
Sloane rushed toward him. “Dad!”
Wilson met his demise lying in his oldest son’s arms. He felt Sloane’s strength, but it wasn’t enough to save him. His body turned cold. He couldn’t see his sons, but he heard the agony, the kind of vocal expressions released by the enemy behind them once they were surrounded, losing a battle they shouldn’t have engaged.
Yes, Wilson Remington was proud, but pride didn’t save him from dying.
Natalie Acres is a best selling western ménage romance author. Her books have been and remain enduring best sellers at ARE, Bookstrand, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Mobipocket. Two Natalie Acres novels- Sex Party and Cowboy Boots and Untamed Hearts- were long standing #1 Best Sellers at Amazon in the western and erotica categories. For more information, visit Siren Publishing at www.sirenpublishing.com or visit Natalie Acres on Facebook at: http://tinyurl.com/26agca8 or MySpace at www.myspace.com/natalieacres.