Hefting her pack, and trying to ignore the wheezing in her lungs, she made her way through the dwindling crowd, then down packed dirt streets until the smell of the stables hung heavy in the air.
Putting her pack and shoeshine kit down, she peeked around the corner of one of the buildings, trying to see if anyone was out tending the horses.
She didn’t see anyone, so surely—
Her thought was cut off as a big, rough male hand wrapped around her mouth, large enough to cover her nose as well, and cut off her oxygen. Another wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight enough that tears came to her eyes as she choked. Her scream strangled in her throat as she clawed at the hand holding her, terror filling her as she was dragged into another alley.
One where Mr. Charles waited.
The tip of his cigarette glowed as he took in a deep inhalation, then he removed it from his mouth with a gloved hand. The light coming from the street illuminated half his face, and the smile he gave her made her stomach feel weak. It was the smile of pure evil, of a man who enjoyed hurting people and causing pain. He strolled closer to them, his long pale gray duster free from the dirt and grime that clung to her.
“Roger,” he clucked his tongue in mock disappointment, pausing to take another puff of his cigarette before blowing it in her face. “You disappoint me.”
Lack of air was becoming a serious issue, and Rowan started to go limp in the arms of the man who held her before he finally let her breathe.
Sucking in a massive gasp of air, she was soon bent over double, trying to brace herself with her hands on her knees as she coughed.
Mr. Charles stared down at her with a bored, dispassionate look. “If you stop all this churlish behavior and come work for me, we can get you medicine that will help you. You’ll have a nice, warm place to live, good food, and enough money to live a good life.”
Gasping for breath, she still managed to say, “No. Never. Leave me alone.”
Mr. Charles gave a sigh of mock disappointment. “And here I thought you were a smart young lad. Larry, why don’t you show Roger the error of his ways? But do watch his face. We don’t want to damage the merchandise.”
Blinding pain tore through her belly as Larry kicked her hunched over form. She let out a cry of sheer despair, not sure if she’d survive another beating.
Mr. Charles leaned against the brick side of the building, watching with narrowed eyes and a serpentine smile as Larry gave her a hard kick to her thigh. Even stronger pain screamed through her body, and she wrapped her hands over her head and fragile neck, knowing one good kick there could kill her.
This is it. This was how she was going to die.
Alone, in the dirt, in extreme pain.
“Hey, you, leave that boy alone!” A man’s voice, as deep as a church bell, rang down the alley.
Mr. Charles yelled back, “This is none of your concern. Just having a conversation with my son.”
A new man’s voice growled, “That boy is not your son. Now, get the hell out of here before I call the law.”
Mr. Charles’ voice came from nearby as he said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Do you know who I am?”
“A bastard who likes to beat on children,” came the deep voice, nearly vibrating with menace.
A gunshot rang out, so loud it cut through even the pounding of her heart and her strangled screams. More gunfire sounded, until the alley boomed like a warzone.
Larry cried out in pain, and the sound of running feet had her looking up just in time to see Mr. Charles sprinting out of the alley as if the hounds of hell were on his heels while holding his arm. Her body throbbed with just that little movement, and she curled back in on herself, desperate to do anything to lessen her suffering.
She remained curled up in a ball on the ground, trying to breathe past the agony radiating through her chest and abdomen. Larry had kicked her hard in the stomach, and her breath kept hitching in her chest. She worried he’d broken something deep inside of her. She flinched as someone gently rolled her over onto her back, their touch firm but careful as they said something.
Dimly, she realized that she was losing consciousness, then she wondered if the man she was looking at was an angel. He was certainly handsome enough to be of divine origin. His dark, kind eyes filled with worry. His full lips that had a slight pink hue to them in the firelight of their lantern they’d placed on the ground next to her. His dark brown hair was thick and wavy, shining with health. Another handsome face appeared over his shoulder, the man’s golden hair glinting as he also said something. The second angel was familiar, and she tried to remember who he was.
But that was silly because she didn’t know any angels.
She must have said that out loud, because the golden-haired man gave her a worried frown in the glow of his lantern. “Did he kick the boy in the head? He sounds odd, and he’s talking about angels.”
A big, gentle hand seemed to gently cup her entire skull as she was lifted off the ground into a pair of solid arms. She started to struggle, but she had no hope of overpowering a man the size of a grizzly bear even when she hadn’t taken a pummeling. Still, the instinct to live, to avoid danger, had her continuing to try to squirm out of his arms until her ribs gave a twinge so painful she could barely breathe.
Feeling utterly helpless, she whispered, “Please, please, don’t hurt me.”
“Be easy. I’m not gonna hurt you, lad,” the big bear of a man murmured, his voice like a rumble of thunder. “Just need to make sure those bastards didn’t crack your head like an egg.”
She started to protest as someone removed her hat, but her mind and body seemed disconnected at the moment. There was instant relief as the heavy braid that she’d kept stuffed up beneath her hat came falling down. Dimly, she was aware she should be fearful that these strangers had found out her secret, but thinking about anything besides how much she hurt seemed impossible.
“What the…?” the man holding her said in deep, shocked voice. His hold grew too tight on her bruised ribs until she let out a pained whimper.
Right away, his hold loosened, and the man with the more familiar male voice stroked his fingers over her scalp. “Hush now, love, I need to see how badly that son of a diseased whore hurt you.”
Turning her face into the chest of the man holding her, she inhaled a rather pleasant scent of man, fresh air, and the hint of some kind of cologne or soap with a hint of spice. It was a good smell, a clean smell, and he was so warm. She felt safe in his arms, cared for in a way she’d so desperately needed.
She was finally safe.
2
GARRET
* * *
The doctor came out into the hallway of the hotel room they’d rented with a curious look on his wrinkled face.
“How well do you know…Roger?” the doctor asked as he adjusted his grip on his black medical bag.
Worry filled Garret as he fought back the temptation to push past the doctor and check on the poor young woman inside.
“Not very well,” Edward said, his angular face tight with worry. “Will she be all right?”
Clearing his throat, the doctor looked up and down the empty hotel hallway before he said, “Yes, she’ll be fine with a lot of rest and good food.”