by Rebecca King
“Stand still,” the fourth thug ordered. The loud cocking of his gun was enough to make Oliver freeze. “Put your hands up.”
Oliver did as he was told and slowly eased his hands into the air. It didn’t matter that he was unarmed because he was just as adept at fighting without a weapon as he was with one, but Smidgley and his thugs needn’t know that.
“I suggest you come out now!” Smidgley called. “He has told you to hide, hasn’t he? Well, he is going to die if you don’t hand yourself over to me.”
Oliver snorted. “Do you really think she is going to believe that?”
The thug Oliver had hoped he had knocked out suddenly surged to his feet with a loud growl. He wavered a minute and shook his head to try to clear the cloudiness in his vision. When his gaze landed on Oliver, he smirked and balled his fist.
“Not yet,” Smidgley commanded. “Well, go on then, but just once.”
Oliver ducked when the thug swung a fist at his head. He slammed a kick into the man’s groin and watched him fall again but didn’t get to finish him off. The bullet the fourth thug fired at him whizzed past Oliver’s head far too closely and was enough of a warning to Oliver that Smidgley would kill him if he wanted. Smidgley would then set about searching the whole farm and wouldn’t stop until he had found Emmeline. God only knew what would happen to her then.
Over my dead body.
A fierce possessiveness swept over Oliver then that was unlike any other Oliver had ever felt in his life. He was stunned by the rampant determination to keep her not just alive, but safe and with him. He wanted her in his life, damn it, and didn’t care what he had to do to keep her with him. In the few moments that Oliver was praying Emmeline would have the good sense to stay where she was, the third thug surged to his feet again. This time, he came up behind Oliver and grabbed his arms in a cruel hold that held him perfectly still. Smidgley slowly dismounted.
“So, we meet again” He raked Oliver with a condescending look that left Oliver in no doubt he didn’t like what he saw.
Oliver didn’t even blink when Smidgley’s fist struck him across the jaw. A small trickle of blood began to ease slowly out of the side of his mouth. Oliver smirked but didn’t blink or show even a faint hint of emotion.
“The Star Elite.” Rupert shook his head, as if saddened by what he was seeing.
“Never heard of it,” Oliver drawled. There was little he could do about the ‘oomph’ of pain that escaped him when Smidgley’s fist slammed into his stomach. Oliver felt sick but sucked in a breath and stared steadily at his opponent. He tried the strength of the man behind him, but the hold was too strong to break. Patiently, Oliver waited.
“Are you listening, Emmeline? That is your name, isn’t it? You are Caroline’s sister. I know you are here. You had better come out or you are going to sit and listen to us kill him slowly and very painfully,” Smidgley called.
“You can try,” Oliver snorted.
“Do you are challenge me?” Smidgley sneered.
“I know where your brother is,” Oliver smirked. “And his friends, and your thugs, their associates.” Oliver’s head jerked toward the men around him. “You don’t though. Kill me and you will never see your brother alive again. Oh, by the way, you may want to speak to your contacts in the War Office. I am sure you will find they are a little – er – uncommunicative.”
Oliver lifted his brows and watched Smidgley’s face harden.
“This Star Elite know who you are, what you are doing, and who your connections are in the hierarchy of the War Office. Or, rather, were. They are being stopped from within. There is nothing you can do, Smidgley. Your brother has already gone and won’t be back. Do you think that all your – contacts – will protect you when you are in the Tower of London and charged with treason? Do you really think anybody you are blackmailing will step forward to vouch for you when your arse is in the fire?”
Oliver fell silent when Smidgley slammed another face into his jaw and followed it with a kick to his stomach. He spat his mouthful of blood onto the dirt at their feet and smirked when splashes of it went over Smidgley’s highly polished boot. Smidgley looked down at the mess slowly. Without saying a word, Smidgley then doubled back another fist and was about to slam it into Oliver’s head when he spotted the shotgun Oliver had been forced to drop earlier. He picked it up with a cruel smile and hefted its weight. Oliver knew it had no shot in it, but it was a far harsher weapon than a fist. He braced himself, prepared for the worst.
I never once considered just how much having a future with Emmeline meant to me, he mused thoughtfully as he waited for the beating that would most probably end his life.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Leave him alone,” Emmeline commanded from the doorway of the barn.
She felt sick when she saw the cuts and welts on Oliver’s face. The three thugs with Smidgley all turned to look at her, but Emmeline kept her hard gaze locked on the man with the gun.
“Get out of here, Emmeline,” Oliver growled.
“Stay. Watch. Then you are coming with us,” Smidgley smirked. “I knew you would see sense eventually, but there is little you can do about his Fate.”
Smidgley lifted a hand back and prepared to slam the gun into Oliver’s stomach when Emmeline stepped forward again. The short plank she held in one hand was all she had been able to find within the loft area which might be of some use. Now that she had seen the thugs, though, she realised just how wholly unprepared she was to challenge them. They were vile, brutal, reprehensible, and without mercy. From the looks on their faces, they enjoyed being able to put on a physical display of brutality.
Emmeline’s thoughts turned briefly to her sister. She dreaded to think what they were like with women at their mercy given what she was witnessing them do to Oliver, a lawman. Still, she refused to back down or show them any sign of weakness.
“I would rather be dead than go anywhere with you,” Emmeline snarled. “If you think I am the kind of woman you can snatch without a whimper you can think again.”
“Emmeline. Get out of here,” Oliver growled.
“No.” She threw him a dismissive glare before she scowled at Smidgley again.
“Ah, so this one is a little feisty,” Smidgley mused.
“God, you vile, loathsome oaf,” Emmeline snorted. “You deserve to be locked up for the rest of your worthless life.”
“I must say your sister was far more malleable,” Smidgley mused, his voice rife with taunting glee.
“That’s because you probably drugged her. That’s what you have to do with all your victims, isn’t it? Otherwise, nobody would ever go anywhere near the likes of you,” Emmeline snorted.
Oliver grinned and looked at her approvingly.
Smidgley’s face turned even more evil.
“If you knew anything about me you would know my association with my sister was never the best. So why would you expect me to give a damn what you think of her, or me? Why would you consider, even for a second, that I should be like her? Just because we are twins, we are supposed to be the same, is that it? It’s an arrogant assumption to make, even for a fool like you.” Emmeline lifted an arrogant brow at the man and waited.
“He is a fool, and arrogant too,” Oliver said with a thoughtful nod.
“There are some friends of mine who would like to meet you,” Smidgley smirked.
Oliver closed his eyes because he knew what Smidgley had lined up for Emmeline.
“She is my wife. Touch her and I will damned well hound you to Hell,” Oliver snarled.
“I am going nowhere with you, Smidgley, so I suggest you kill me now,” Emmeline snorted.
“Get her,” Smidgley ordered the thug closest to her.
Emmeline backed away. Oliver waited until Smidgley had turned his attention to Emmeline and made his move. Using the tight hold that the thug had on him, Oliver lifted both feet off the ground and planted them as hard as he could straight into Smidgley’s stomach. The thug behind him released him when he
realised that he was helping Oliver. Oliver wasted no time slamming a fist into Smidgley’s face. The loud snap of Smidgley’s teeth smacking together was satisfying enough, but to watch Smidgley’s head jerk back, his face a blank mask of surprise at the strength of the onslaught was enough to compel Oliver to keep punching. Stepping back, Oliver slammed a kick into the groin of the approaching thug who had just released him and followed it with a heavy punch to the man’s face. When he fell to his knees, Oliver then rendered him unconscious with a heavy kick to the head seconds before he spun around and landed several more kicks into Smidgley’s stomach.
“Get him,” Smidgley growled with the last of his breath, but got no further before Oliver slammed a boot into the side of his head followed by the butt of the gun that he deftly swept off the floor. He then slammed it forcefully into the thug’s gut before giving him an upper cut to the underside of his jaw. The man slithered silently to the floor beside his boss.
Emmeline could hear the dull thud of fists striking flesh but daren’t take her eyes off the man stalking steadily toward her. She knew that if she did get distracted then she would end up seriously injured or kidnapped just like Caroline despite Oliver’s valiant fighting. It was a terrifying prospect.
Suddenly, Oliver stepped toward her. “Get into the house, Emmeline and lock the door. You have seen where the guns are. Use one if they get in. Go.”
Oliver smirked and went on the attack. He had to trust that Emmeline would do as he asked. The last thing he could do right now was take his eyes off his opponent, even for a second.
Emmeline hesitated. She wanted to go inside but couldn’t just run to safety and leave Oliver facing death. The thug lying beside a recovering Smidgley was also starting to recover and was now glaring evilly at Oliver’s back. It was only a matter of time before he launched another assault only this time, Oliver was distracted by his current attacker.
When the thug beside Smidgley launched to his feet, Emmeline hefted her make-shift club. Unfortunately, her movement captured his attention and he smirked at her. Rather than make his way over to Oliver, he began to stalk toward her. Emmeline braced herself and tightened her hold on her weapon. When the thug was as close as she dared allow him to get, Emmeline hefted her weapon but, rather than swing it as the thug expected, she kicked him as hard as she could, straight in his crotch. The man’s eyes widened. He was temporarily distracted by the pain in his nether regions to pay much attention to what Emmeline was doing next and didn’t even notice when Emmeline swung her weapon mightily at his head. The heavy thunk of the plank hitting the thug made her wince. She stumbled back and watched, eyes wide, as the man fell to his knees clutching his manhood. When he still didn’t topple, Emmeline hefted her plank again and slammed him over the back of his head. She smirked when he fell to the floor unconscious.
When she looked at Smidgley, it was to find him watching her warily. Strangely, his cockiness had vanished completely. For the first time since his arrival in the yard he began to look wary. Emmeline met his stare head-on with a cold disregard that left him in no doubt she would do the same to him if he ventured close enough.
With Oliver still brawling beside her, Emmeline threw Smidgley one last dismissive glance before she turned her attention to the thug trying to punch the man she now knew she loved. Hefting her weapon, she moved around until she was behind the thug, and swung her weapon once more. The thug never knew what hit him. He didn’t even get to blink before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor.
Oliver and Emmeline looked at each other over his body. An instant connection began to take form between them. It was so strong that it was almost tangible. It made it clear to them both that they were as one; a unit.
“Together,” Oliver murmured quietly, with a whole new respect for her. While he didn’t expect her to have heard him for a second, he saw her gaze drop to his lips and knew from her nod that she had understood him.
They would fight their enemies together – to the death if need be.
“Together,” she whispered.
“Get her,” Smidgley snarled at his two remaining henchmen when he realised that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.
“Get over here.” One of the thugs tried to make a grab for Emmeline again. This time, he succeeded because Emmeline didn’t have the time to jump out of the way.
Don’t panic.
Rather than go stiff in his hold as Emmeline would have done had she been alone, her gaze turned to Oliver. She watched him land a punch on the thug who approached him with a calm surety that was wholly reassuring. Squaring her shoulders, Emmeline tried to remember what Oliver had shown her to do. Seconds later, after a stomp of her foot, a twist of her fingers, and a well-placed feminine fist, her attacker had released her and was hunched protectively over his now brushed crotch. Emmeline didn’t stop there. Lifting her skirt, she slammed a booted foot straight into the thug’s face and watched him fall to his knees. Once there, she placed another kick on the side of his head with even more force, just like she had with her last attacker. He groaned and rolled sideways. Emmeline lined herself up to kick him once more only to be distracted by the sound of approaching riders.
“Thank God,” she whispered fervently when she recognised the men who rode into the yard with their guns drawn.
“Smidgley, stay right where you are,” Harry growled, pointing his gun directly at Smidgley’s head.
Oliver, with no more opponents to fight, paused for breath. He bent over at the waist and tried to take stock of his injuries. His chin ached, his ribs were sore, and he was sure he had a black eye coming. Apart from that, he was relatively unscathed. He turned and looked at Emmeline and shook his head as he marvelled at just how unphased she was by what had just happened.
“God, Emmeline,” he growled. He shook his head again, but then smirked. “You fight mean.”
Emmeline smirked at him with such supreme arrogance that it made his lips twitch. While they gazed adoringly at each other, the men from the Star Elite moved about the thugs, removing guns, knives, and shoving the intruders apart until they all faced away from each other. Once positioned at various angles around the stable yard, the thugs were forced to their knees and bound. Smidgley was bound first and frisked before he had a make-shift hood slid over his head. It had been a flour-sack but was enough to ensure Rupert Smidgley didn’t see where he was going, or what the people around him were doing.
“You cannot do this to me,” he goaded, even though his voice was muffled. “Don’t you know that there are more people involved in this than me?”
“Shut up, Smidgley. Nobody cares what you think,” Harry growled.
Very conscious of just how stubborn his twin had been, Harry made sure he sounded as bored as possible.
“I have friends in high places. They will have your job for this,” Smidgley snorted.
“Your friends in high places no longer have any influence. I wouldn’t count on them bailing you out of trouble,” Ronan replied.
“I demand you release me at once.”
“You attempted to kidnap Emmeline,” Oliver growled. “That makes you an abductor. There is no other reason why you should come here. You also attacked her, and me for that matter. That is enough to keep you behind bars Smidgley. The rest of the crimes you have committed will be added to your sentence while you are awaiting trial.”
There was a faint air of jubilation amongst the Star Elite, but it was tempered by growing concern when Oliver stumbled over to the barn doors and promptly lost the bloodied contents of his stomach. He held his brushed ribs and force himself to lock his knees when dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He was so busy concentrating on not caving in to the darkness that swirled around him that he jerked when he felt a delicate hand touch his shoulder.
“Are you all right?” Emmeline asked quietly. “Do you need a doctor?”
Oliver forced himself to stand upright. “I have had worse beatings than that. It just caught my stomac
h, that’s all,” he assured her. “How about you?”
He lifted a blooded hand and removed a piece of straw from her hair. Holding it out for her to see, he smiled gently at her, or would have done had his cut lip not protested. He winced and threw her a rueful look.
“I don’t see why you are bothering. I am going to be out of gaol within the hour. My uncle will ensure I am released, and I receive a full apology from you all. It will be quite satisfying to see you grovel on your knees for your stupidity,” Smidgley taunted.
Emmeline opened her mouth to tell him he could rot in gaol for the rest of his life and nobody would care only for Oliver to shake his head at her and motion for her to be quiet. She didn’t understand why, so Oliver put his lips against her ear.
“Don’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he can goad you. It is more disturbing to him if nobody bothers to talk to him. He is, from now on, persona non grata. He ceases to exist. He will only be acknowledged when he is pushed into the cart, and then into gaol, and so on. Nobody will speak to him, tell him what is happening, or try to get any information from him. He can goad and taunt all he likes, but it is going to get him no response whatsoever. From now on, he has lost all rights,” Oliver whispered. “It has to be this way for us to be able to get him to tell us what we want in a few days’ time. Just let him babble. We will go about our business as if he isn’t there.”
Emmeline nodded her understanding. Her gaze fell to a particularly sore spot on the corner of Oliver’s mouth. With gentle fingers, she stroked it carefully.
Oliver caught her fingers in his and held her hand. “Did they hurt you?”
Emmeline shook her head.
“You should have stayed up in the hay loft like you were told,” he chided. “They could have snatched you. It was a stupid risk to take to come down.”
“I wasn’t going to allow them to beat you to death,” Emmeline replied. She sucked in a breath because she knew she had to be honest. Shying away from how she felt was a foolish thing to do. “I couldn’t live with myself if you lost your life while I was hiding.”