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  Shelter

  The Wanderers, Book Four

  Becca Jameson

  Copyright © 2022 by Becca Jameson

  Cover Artist: OriginalSyn

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Newsletter

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

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  Becca’s Newsletter Sign-up

  About the Book

  There is no safe place in the world anymore, especially for women. For several decades, the birth rate of females has been declining. Militants, the government, and private citizens alike will do anything to find young women and force them into unthinkable arrangements.

  * * *

  Against the darkness of this world stand The Wanderers—a secret society born to provide sanctuary for anyone who believes in free will and democratic notions. Their numbers are growing and their citizens live in safe, hidden compounds.

  * * *

  Serve and obey your husband. The Republic has drilled this command into Haley for the fourteen years she’s lived in a home for girls. Now that she’s standing at the altar about to marry an aristocrat she’s never met, Haley fears what those words could mean once she’s at the mercy of her new husband.

  * * *

  Braylon, Riggs, and Storm had always planned to escape The Republic someday. When Braylon meets the sweet, beautiful wife he’s expected to rule, he knows he could never harm her, including claiming her innocence. He’s not alone—Riggs and Storm are just as enamored with her. When Braylon’s mother decides her daughter-in-law hasn’t conceived fast enough for her taste, the three must find a way to get Haley to safety. The time to escape is now.

  * * *

  Rush was living with The Wanderers for three years when he was kidnapped and taken by The Republic. His new home: a holding cell in the basement of some aristocrats. His new job: father a baby against his will. When Rush meets Braylon and the others, he offers them a way out. Can they trust him? The trip will be long and dangerous, but they will risk it all to protect Haley. The first taste of freedom is the sweetest.

  * * *

  There will be challenges along the way. Militants are everywhere just waiting to attack men and capture women for their own. Haley may be surrounded by men who would move mountains to save her, but she’s got news for them: if they want to earn her love, they’re going to have to stop coddling her and let her fight alongside them.

  Chapter 1

  Sudden bright lights and the grating sound of his cell door opening caused Rush to sit upright on his cot, covering his eyes as he squinted.

  “Let’s go, Serpa.”

  Rush took a deep breath as he stared at the large man in the gray uniform. “Go where?” he asked, his voice raspy. He’d been in this cell for three months. He’d never left it a single time.

  “You’ve been sold. Now get a move on.” The big guy stepped back, motioning for Rush to exit the cell.

  Rush wasn’t in a hurry as he slowly rose to his feet, pretending it was a chore to stand. He’d even managed to master the art of wincing as if every inch of his body was in pain. “Sold?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

  It wasn’t unexpected. He wasn’t stupid. He was actually surprised it had taken as long as it had.

  The Republic had captured him three months ago while he’d been on a supply run with Stuart from The Wanderers’ home base. The only good news was that he’d learned that Maya, who’d been missing, had been found. At least he hadn’t spent the last three months worrying about her.

  He knew her well though. She was probably freaking the fuck out now that she’d found out he’d been captured.

  Traveling in this new era was always dangerous. For everyone. Most especially for women. It hadn’t been a surprise when they were ambushed by six soldiers from The Republic. That sort of thing happened from time to time. What was surprising was that they’d taken Rush.

  At the time, it has seemed plausible they’d been looking for a doctor. When they found out Rush had medical training, they took him. But that had been three months ago, and Rush had been transported directly to this prison where he’d been held alone in this cell.

  As the weeks passed, he’d realized no one had needed a medic. If they had, he would’ve been treating patients somewhere by now. Instead, his talent was being wasted in this prison.

  Rush had racked his brain trying to figure out what he was doing here. He’d asked every guard dozens of times, but no one ever said a word to him. Three times a day, someone brought him food and removed the previous dishes. Never did that person answer his questions or speak to him.

  He hadn’t been beaten or injured in any way. No one seemed to want information or medical care. What the fuck did they want?

  Apparently, he was about to find out because he’d been sold. To whom? For what purpose?

  “You heard me. Get the fuck moving,” the guard growled, losing patience.

  It wasn’t as if Rush could put up a fight. He had nothing but his own strength to fight anyone with. Strength he’d worked hard to maintain by exercising for hours every night when no one was looking.

  He was resourceful. He’d managed to use every item in the cell to his advantage to keep fit. Luckily, he’d been well-fed, giving him the energy to continue training.

  Faking like he was withering away had become a habit of his. It had seemed prudent to give his captors the impression he had no strength.

  He rose to his feet and exited the cell, his heart racing as he preceded the guard down the long row of cells, taking in the rest of the inhabitants out of his peripheral vision. All of them were men. Most of them in his age range and stature.

  When they reached the end of the hall, another guard stood. “Turn around, Serpa.” He held up a set of handcuffs.

  There was nothing Rush could do but follow instructions. He couldn’t overtake these two armed men with his strength alone. Besides, then what? He would never make it out of this prison without getting caught, probably killed.

  As soon as the guard had his hands secured at his back, he gave a jerk on the cuffs and chuckled. “See ya.”

  Would he? Would Rush be back here again? He had no idea, and he didn’t bother asking questions.

  “Let’s go, Serpa,” the first guard said as he pointed down another hallway.

  Rush didn’t hurry. He had no interest in finding out what awaited him, but after several turns and just as many locked, barred doors, the guard finally opened a steel door.

  Stepping outside was shocking. It was nighttime. What the hell was going on? A man slid out of the back seat of a black limousine parked right by the exit. He was stern and, like the guard, larger than Rush. He held up a black hood and yanked it over Rush’s head.

  Rush jerked back a few steps, his pulse picking up, fear racing through his veins. What the fuck was going on?

  “Help me get him in the car,” the new man growled.

  The guard unfastened Rush’s wrists at his back, but two seconds later, he yanked his hands to his front and reattached the cuffs. Yanking on the chain between the two cuffs, he forced Rush to stumble forward toward the vehicle.

  The next thing Rush knew, his head was being pushed down to avoid clocking his skull on the frame of the door as he was shoved inside. He was panting as he slid onto the cold leather seat, aware that the man who’d exited the car joined him.

  “Be good, Serpa,” the guard suggested. “If you end up back here, your next sale won’t be desirable. We don’t like returns.” He chuckled, the sound cutting off only when the door was shut.

  “Where are you taking me?” Rush asked the moment he was alone with the man. He could easily lift his hands and shove the hood off his head, but he didn’t think it was a good idea.

  “If I wanted you to know that, I wouldn’t have covered your eyes, asshole.”

  Rush sucked in a breath. He wasn’t a violent man by nature, but lately, he’d grown a spine, and he was pissed the fuck off.

  He flinched when the guy reached across him, holding his breath until he realized the man was simply buckling his seatbelt. Interesting. His new owner cared about his safety.

  Rush hadn’t gotten a look at the driver, but as the limo took off, he realized there had to be another person in the car.

  “Okay. Can you at
least tell me why? I’m a medic. I assumed I’d been captured for my medical training. So far, I’ve been kept in a prison cell. That’s not a very good use of my skills,” he pointed out, hoping by sharing his abilities he might avoid being mistreated.

  No matter what side of history anyone was on in this fucked-up world they lived in, physicians were in short supply. No one from any side of the political spectrum would risk injuring a man with medical skills.

  The man chuckled. “If you’re lucky, you’ll be used for a skill far more valuable than your medical knowledge. Now, I suggest you shut the fuck up and behave yourself. I’m not in the mood to talk. If you can sit still, keep your lips closed, and not give me any trouble, I’ll take a nice nap. It’s been a long day. If you piss me off with your jabbering or movement, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”

  Rush rolled his eyes behind the hood. Fucking asshole. He decided it was in his best interest to sit back and leave the fucker alone though. He couldn’t exactly put up a fight with a hood and handcuffs.

  Lips pursed, he leaned back and took several deep breaths. It was impossible to relax, but at least it didn’t seem he was being led toward an untimely death.

  What the hell skill did he have that was far more valuable than his medical training? The man spoke in riddles. He made no sense. Rush didn’t have other trade skills. He supposed he was strong, but were they likely sending him to work in a field?

  He’d been sold. To whom? What did that mean?

  Fuck.

  With nothing else to do, he focused his attention on the passage of time so he’d have at least some idea how far they’d traveled. Granted, what good would that do him anyway? He hadn’t been conscious when they’d brought him to this prison. He had no idea where he was in the country nor how far from The Wanderers he’d been taken. Did it really matter if they were traveling east, west, north, or south?

  It turned out the drive was only about two hours by his calculation. He’d spent all of that time counting seconds and listening to his guard snore. As soon as the car came to a stop, the guy jerked awake with a groan. He quickly exited the limo before reaching in to unbuckle Rush and yank him out by his cuffs.

  Rush said nothing. Less was more, he decided. Pissing off the guard wouldn’t help his situation.

  The night air was cool. Maybe they’d gone north. He wasn’t outside for long though. Seconds later, another door opened and he was yanked into a warm building.

  “You’re back,” a male voice stated.

  “Yep. Where do you want him?”

  “The cell in the basement is ready.”

  Rush was jerked forward again. “Watch your step on the stairs, medic,” his captor stated. “We wouldn’t want you to fall and ruin any of your skills.” He chuckled.

  What the fuck? Rush tentatively stepped forward, the guard holding on to the back of his shirt at the collar. When his foot hit the first step, he felt the difference between what he assumed was tile to what now had the feel of wood beneath his feet.

  “Let’s go, Serpa. I don’t have all night.”

  Rush carefully made his way down the stairs, not wanting to fall. The last thing he needed was a broken arm or leg. He’d set many of them in the last decade, but none had been his own.

  He knew when he reached the bottom because the surface changed to what he suspected was concrete.

  The guard stepped around him, jerked him by the cuffs again, and hauled him forward.

  Rush cringed at the sound of yet another metal door that indicated another jail cell. But where was he? Was this a prison like the one he’d just left? Or a private basement with only one cell?

  Finally, the hood was yanked off his head and the cuffs removed. “Make yourself at home, Serpa,” the guy stated before turning to leave the cell, shutting it and testing to make sure it was secured. “If you’re lucky, we won’t meet again.”

  Why did people keep saying that?

  Rush watched as the man ascended the stairs and disappeared. When the door at the top shut with a resounding snick, Rush flinched and looked around.

  Great. Another prison cell. This one was different though. It was definitely in a private basement. Just the one cell. One wall was concrete. The other three sides were metal bars. At least it wasn’t as boring. He lowered himself onto the narrow bed as he took in his surroundings.

  What the hell was he doing here? Sold to whom for what purpose?

  He shuddered. His mind refused to come up with a realistic possibility, but he doubted he was going to like it.

  Chapter 2

  Haley flinched and nearly cried out when Braylon’s hand landed on her shoulder.

  “Shh. Baby, it’s just me.” He slid under the covers next to her and pulled her back against his front, spooning her. His hand smoothed over her hair, tangling in the thick length before he wrapped his arms around her to hold her tightly.

  “I can’t do this, Bray,” she whimpered. A sob escaped. She was barely holding it together. She’d been shaking for hours, her body feeling cold even though she was under the covers in her bed.

  His lips came to her temple. He kissed her there, but he didn’t say anything.

  Tears fell down her cheeks. Silent ones. She couldn’t make too much noise or someone would hear her. She’d never been so scared in her life.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothed, holding her tighter. “If there was anything I could do, I would. You know that, right?”

  She nodded. She did. She trusted him. She was also eternally grateful that of all the men in the world she could have been forced to marry, she’d ended up with Braylon Hanson. One of the good guys. Were there any others?

  Yes. His best friend, Riggs Feldman. He too was one of the good guys in this messed-up world. And Storm Gundersen. Her bodyguard. He joined the ranks too. She had three good men on her side.

  “I’m so scared.”

  “I know, baby. I am too.”

  She gripped his hand around her. “Why is your mother in such a hurry? We’ve only been married six months.”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I had hoped for more time.”

  She trembled. The thought that a man was currently in the basement of this very house, brought to impregnate her, was almost more than she could bear. It was insane. The world had gone mad.

  “What…” She swallowed, trying hard to keep her voice low and her sobs at bay. “What exactly is going to happen?” No one had filled her in on the details, as usual. No one ever told her anything.

  Her entire life had been a series of events she’d had no say in and no knowledge of. At twenty years old, she’d spent nearly all of that time as a ward of the state, raised in a state-run home for girls that was operated by The Republic under strict surveillance.

  Unfortunately for Haley, she remembered life before that prison. She’d lived with her parents off the grid for the first six years. Right up until the day six armed men stormed her family’s home, shot and killed both her parents, and took her into their custody. Their crime: hiding a young female.

  It was fourteen years ago, and she remembered that day like it was yesterday. She had been old enough to know that bad men might come and steal her. She’d been taught to hide and run if anything like that ever happened. But she’d been right out in the open that sunny day, and the men had snatched her before she’d had a chance to run.

  Other girls who were raised in the home were luckier. Some of them had been young enough when they were abducted that they had no memory of their previous lives. Some of them had been older. The older ones had the most difficulty falling in line.