Protector (Doms of Mountain Bend #1) - B.J. Wane Page 0,2

know how long they had until Atkins roused and alerted the cops.

Father Joe nudged up his wire-frame glasses and looked them over with a critical eye, his mouth tightening as he spotted Clayton’s bruised face and Shawn’s wrapped wrist. “I’ll contact social services in the morning and insist they move you.”

Dakota went rigid. “No.”

Shawn shifted the little girl as she roused, lifting her head to peer at him out of frightened round eyes. “Don’t talk so mean,” he snapped at Dakota before telling her, “It’s okay. He’s nice, but he doesn’t want anyone to know that. Father Joe is going to take care of you, isn’t that right, Father? It would be a shame if she was sent back to that house where she’s not safe.”

No one knew him better than the priest, and Shawn released a relieved breath when Father Joe read between the lines correctly and nodded. He’d tried to talk Shawn into relocating to one of his out-of-state contacts following his father’s death, but he’d refused. Phoenix had been home his whole life, and he’d already lost so much that, at the time, he couldn’t stomach another upheaval.

Moving so the girl could see him, Father Joe used his gentlest tone to talk to her. “I know a very nice family who would love to have you. Would you like to meet them?”

Instead of answering, she looked at Shawn. “Will you be there?”

“No, I have to go somewhere else, but I promise you’ll be safe. Didn’t I save you from the bad man?” She gave him a reluctant nod and loosened her clinging arms from around his neck. “Good girl.” He smiled, setting her on her feet. Laying a hand on her head, he said, “You keep being good, and everything will be fine. Right, Father?”

“Right, as long as the three of you agree to my terms.”

“Shit,” Dakota mumbled, turning to lean against the wall with his arms folded, his glare solely for Shawn.

Shawn recognized the determined glint in Father Joe’s eyes, wondering how he could have not considered this possibility. “C’mon, man, you can’t mean to blackmail us.”

“Oh, but I can,” Father Joe returned, Shawn recognizing his implacable tone.

Wearing worn jeans and an Arizona Cardinals tee shirt, he didn’t look anything like a priest in his mid-forties, but Shawn knew that look, and he meant what he said. If he wanted his help, Shawn would have to agree to his terms.

“You trusted me enough to come here tonight. All I’m asking is you trust me enough to do right by all of you, not just the little one. Agreed?” His gaze circled to include the three of them.

“What’s to keep us from bolting once we agree?” Clayton asked with a rare touch of belligerence. Most often, he was the easy-going one between them.

“Smarts enough to know when you’ve been handed a second chance, and the grit to make the most of it,” Father Joe challenged in reply.

“Well, hell.”

Clayton flipped Dakota a wry grin then looked at Shawn. “If he’s in, I’m in.”

Shawn ran his hand down the girl’s silky hair, his heart somersaulting over the adoring look she turned up to him. “Okay, Father. If you see she stays safe, we agree. Where are we going?”

“Idaho.”

Chapter One

Twenty years later

“Are you sure, Randy?”

Shawn McDuff took the pen his friend handed over, his gaze skimming the now quiet, empty cavernous room of the private club, Spurs. He recalled the fond memory of a scene with a redheaded submissive when his eyes landed on the St. Andrew’s Cross. He, Clayton, and Dakota had been members since Randy first opened the club over seven years ago. Located just outside of Boise, it sat nestled in a tree-shrouded copse in between Boise and Mountain Bend, the small town they now called home.

“I’m sure. I’ve known you guys long enough to have complete confidence you’ll ensure Spurs keeps the good reputation I’ve worked to build,” Randy replied, his look around the table taking in Shawn, Clayton, and Dakota.

Scrawling his name on the contract to buy the club, Shawn was confident of the asset they were purchasing, but the disillusionment in Randy’s eyes was still hard to see. He couldn’t imagine the heartache of betrayal his friend must feel over his wife’s infidelity and desertion.

“It helps Shawn is a deputy sheriff.” Clayton balanced his chair on the back two legs with ease, his arms crossed, blue eyes lit with humor. “He’ll threaten anyone who gets out of line with jail time.”

Dakota snorted. “Some subs