“Let’s just hope Jack and Billy catch the other one.”
The invisible man grunted. “That one is mine if they do. The bitch stabbed me.”
“Ye are still bleedin’?”
He grunted. “I’ve got it wrapped.”
If the man—wherever he was—was wounded, that meant she had only one hale and hearty one to fend off. Lorelei went still. She couldn’t do that in her current position nor could she if she were tied up. At least Fiona had escaped.
They made an abrupt turn and a moment later, stopped in front of an old building. The wounded man fumbled with a door and then they stepped inside a dark, musty-smelling room. Definitely not someone’s home.
The man who had been carrying her heaved her off his shoulder and she tumbled to the floor. She’d taken enough spills from horses when she’d tried to learn to ride—a hopeless endeavor—that she knew to keep her chin tucked and roll to break the danger of the fall. Maybe she could roll far enough away to jump up and run for the door…but even before she could try, she heard it close and the key turned in the lock.
Maybe she could pretend to be unconscious again? Maybe they’d just let her lie on the floor and she’d have time to get her bearings and think of a way to escape. That plan was foiled, though, when the man who’d dropped her kicked her in the side. A moan escaped her as she rolled into a ball.
“That’s for trying to kick me, ya stupid chit.”
She wanted to retort but knew it would be futile. The man pulled her up and shoved her onto a straight-backed chair and then reached for the rope the wounded man held out to him. She tried to squelch the panic she felt.
“You do not have to bind me, sir.” She widened her eyes in an expression that she’d practiced in front of the mirror back when she thought silly things likelookinghelpless would win her a swain. She really would be helpless if she were trussed up. “How could I escape with the two of you guarding me?”
Her words had no effect as he roughly grabbed her hands and tied them behind her and then anchored the rope to the chair. “I’ll be leaving Davy in charge here so I can help Jack and Billy find your friend.”
He pulled a dirty rag from his pocket and Lorelei felt her blood chill. If he tried to place that filthy thing in her mouth… Lorelei looked down quickly so he wouldn’t see the defiance in her eyes. She’d get a good bite to his fingers first. Fiona wasn’t the only one who could draw blood.
It seemed an eternity before he handed the rag to his partner. “Use this if ya have to.”
And then he was gone, leaving her with only one captor. He was favoring his wounded arm but he hadn’t lost the use of it. She considered trying to talk him into letting her go, but the thought of being gagged kept her quiet. Instead, she looked around the room. It appeared to be some sort of shed that someone may have lived in once. There was a rickety table in one corner with another chair that had one leg broken in half. The only other item was a straw pallet on the floor that probably had more vermin in it than she could identify. There were several rotten floorboards and one small, dirty window that had half the glass missing. She eyed the chair again. If she could just get to that broken leg…
A woman’s blood-curdling scream rent the air, followed by hearty male laughter. The woman screamed again.
Lorelei tugged at her ropes. “Are you not going to help her?”
He shrugged. “Probably a doxy getting what she deserves for not doing her job right.”
For a moment, Lorelei stared at him while the words sunk in. “You are just going to sit there and let…that…happen?”
He rose. “Maybe I will go watch.” He grinned suddenly, revealing blackened teeth with several missing. “Then maybe I’ll take a turn with ya.” He stopped by the door and held up the key. “And I’ll be locking this from the other side.”
Bile rose in her throat as she tried to squelch hysteria. She’d thought the men were after ransom because she and Fiona had been seen handing out coins. She hadn’t thought about rape. Until now. She could hear more laughter outside. How much time did she have before he returned?
She started scooting her chair over to the rickety table, hoping she could rub the rope along an edge and free herself when she heard the shattering of glass. Turning, she saw Emma squeezing through the now open window.
“What are you doing—”
“Getting ya out of here.” She pulled a knife from her boot and started slicing through the ropes. “We do no’ have much time, though.”
The noise had quieted down outside. Was the spectacle over? Was the poor woman lying on the street bleeding? Or worse, dead?
“This way,” Emma said, going back to the window.
“But what about that poor woman out there?”
“She can take care of herself,” the girl replied.
“It does not sound—”
“Hurry!”
