The Rising Sun

The Rising Sun The Warrior Breed Series Book One Karen Kelley Published by K and K Publishing Copyright 2023 by K and K Publishing Cover by Karl Kelley No Part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organization or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Dedication To Dr. Phoebe King I don’t know what Karl or I would do without you. Thank you for all you do. TOC Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Playing With Fire Chapter One They’re broken in one way or another—society’s misfits. One man brought them together to forge a unique team of men. Each one chosen because they have nothing to lose. They’re a band of brothers who swore to right the wrongs and protect the innocent. They’re dangerous, deadly, and they never play by the rules. They are the Warrior Breed. Chapter One "Willow, where are you, sweet baby?" Willow's head jerked away from the TV screen and the cartoons she was watching. Cold chills ran over her body, and her heart began to pound faster inside her chest. She recognized the voice: high-pitched, almost singsong. Maybe she'd only imagined it? "Willow, Mommy has a surprise for you." She clenched her fists as she jumped to her feet, legs trembling so much they barely held her up. Where could she hide? She looked around the living room. Nowhere in here. Outside? Her mother's footsteps were getting closer to the foyer as her heels clicked on the black and white tile floor. Soon, Willow would have no place to run. She couldn’t take a deep breath as she backed up, her legs bumping the sofa. Her brain didn’t want to work. “Willow, come see what Mommy has for you.” Laughter trilled after her words. The bedroom! She ran up the stairs and down the hall, fumbled with the doorknob, and slipped inside, closing it behind her as quietly as she could. Her gaze quickly scanned the room as a wave of dizziness washed over her. "Willow, you left the TV on." Her mother's muffled words floated up the stairs. She didn't have much time. She hurried to the closet and started to open the door, but changed her mind. Mommy always looked there. A sob caught in her throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth. No sound! She couldn't make even a little one or Mommy would find her. Under the bed? No, that wasn't good either. The toybox. Maybe if she got in there, Mommy would give up and go away, and she wouldn't hurt her this time. She opened the top and scrambled inside, then pulled the lid closed. Think good thoughts, she told herself. Like when Mommy pulled her close and smiled down at her. The way she’d make pancakes that looked like funny animals. Or when they went to the beach. Mommy wasn’t always bad. She wasn’t. A door down the hall opened. The bathroom? Maybe. Her door squeaked open a moment later. Willow held her breath. "Are we playing hide and seek?" She didn't move. Please, don't let her find me, she silently prayed. "Now, where can you be? Under the bed? No, not there. The closet?” There was the sound of the door opening. “Not there either. Mommy's little girl hid very well this time." The lid to the toy box crashed open. "But I always find you." Her high-pitched laughter filled the room. "Mommy, please don't hurt me." Her words trembled. “I love you, Mommy.” "Hurt you? My precious little girl? Now, why would I hurt you?" She gripped Willow's arm, fingernails digging into the tender flesh. Willow began to whimper as warm liquid ran down her legs. Please don’t let Mommy see that I wet myself! She dared a glance at her mother's face. It was twisted and contorted, becoming something evil. "Willow, you've had an accident. I thought you were through wetting yourself. After all, you’re almost ten years old. Well, this won't do. Daddy will be home soon, and we must look pretty for him. I know, I'll give you a bath, and we'll fix your hair really nice. You can wear the new party dress that Daddy bought you for your birthday. You remember when you went out shopping a few days ago. Neither one of you thought that I might want to go." "But you said you had a headache. You told us to leave so you could take a nap." "But I didn't tell you to buy the dress, now did I?" "No… No…" "Now, let’s go make you look pretty." She began dragging Willow toward the bathroom down the hall. It would do no good to fight her. Mommy was stronger, and she always won, but still, Willow dragged her feet all the way. Mommy was breathing hard when she shoved the bathroom door open, bouncing it against the wall. The faucet was already on, and she could see the steam rising off the hot water in the tub. Mommy pushed her down onto the toilet seat. She flinched when Mommy grabbed the scissors and turned back toward her. "First, we're going to fix your hair." "Please don't, Mommy." She sucked back a sob. "But you want to look pretty for Daddy, right? After all, he called you princess. Apparently, I'm no longer his princess." She began to cut. Daddy always said she had beautiful hair, just like Mommy, but now she watched as the long blonde curls fell on the floor.