Passion's Wicked Torment

by Melissa Hepburne

  He came up to her and tried to hold her, but she moved away from him, refusing to be bought off so cheaply. “You think you can hug me and kiss me, and that’ll make it all right?” she demanded. “And then you’ll go do your stupid, heroic thing and maybe get killed just like your partner Ned? And leave me with nothing but memories and thoughts about how it might have been? Well, no, sir! I deserve better than that!”

  This was incredible. She was surprising herself as well as McShane. Not only by her professions of caring for him deeply, but also by her strength and refusal to submit quietly. She felt more like a real woman now than she ever had before, a strong willed woman who knew what she wanted and went after it.

  He came to her again, and this time, when she tried to pull away, he stopped her, grabbing her, jerking her close to him. “Kristy, I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love any woman. And it makes me happy and proud to know you love me too. But, darlin’, this is something I have to do. I promised Ned before he died. I told him, ‘I’ll get them, Ned; I’ll make them pay.’ ” He looked at her for understanding. “Do you see, lassie?”

  “I don’t see why you don’t take other Mounties with you.”

  “I’ll spell it out for you: I intend to kill him. If there are others with me, and he sees it’s a losing battle, he’ll likely just throw down his arms and surrender. He’s no fool.”

  “So he’ll go to jail, and the court will sentence him to die!”

  McShane shook his head. “There were no witnesses. There’s only what the lawyers call ‘hearsay’: my telling the court that Ned told me it was Ambrewster. And besides, I’m discredited. I almost went to jail for murder, remember? My word doesn’t count very highly.” He went to the wall where his freshly oiled rifle was leaning and grabbed it up. “You see? If other Mounties are with me, it’ll only be worse for me. Because I'm going to kill that scum, whether he throws down his gun or not. If I kill him with other Mounties around as witnesses, it’ll be me that ends up in jail. Or on that newfangled device they imported from the States, that electrical chair.” His eyes were searching her face for the look he wanted. “You see? You understand now?” “Yes,” she said. She went to the rifle rack and pulled down the only remaining rifle. “I’m going with you.” “Oh no you’re not.”

  “Oh yes I am.” She grabbed a change of clothes and stuffed it into a fur satchel. She would change later. She started for the door, determined.

  “You’re not, I say!” He shoved her away from the door. “Now do as you’re told, damn it! This is hard enough for me without your making it harder.”

  She stared at him through eyes seething with fury. “Are you going to give me a hug,” he asked, “and kiss me good-bye? Or not?”

  “Not.”

  He stared at her with a stony expression. She stared back, furious. He turned and left, slamming the door behind him. Kristin went to the window and watched him mount up. His saddlebags were already slung over the front of the saddle, and tied behind the saddle was a large metal contraption, which she could not make out. Sean galloped away, disappearing into the distance.

  Kristin quickly pulled off her clothes and changed into more appropriate attire: leather leggings, leather boots; a thick, black turtleneck sweater. She put on her leather coat, took a box of ammunition from the desk drawer and slipped it into her pocket. She picked up the rifle and started into town.

  It was dark out now, and fiercely cold. Winter was coming. Snow would be on the ground soon. The stars were pinpoints of silver in the crystal clear night. Kristin’s jaw was firmly set, her eyes on fire. She was determined and resolute.

  Turtleback Sam, the Chinese stable owner, was surprised to see her, and even more surprised at the cold, severe look in her eyes. He quickly agreed to loan her a horse from his stable. “Not just any horse,” she said to him. “I want your best horse.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” he said in his Chinese accent, nodding his head up and down repeatedly, still stunned by her attitude. He didn’t dare to even ask her what she wanted the steed for, or why McShane hadn’t gotten it for her earlier. He made no conversation at all as he hurriedly blanketed, saddled and bridled a spirited pinto under Kristin’s watchful gaze.

  When she was mounted up and about to ride, however, Sam remembered something he wanted to tell her now that he had his wits about him. “There is a man in town. He come to my stable not one, two hour ago. He be asking after you.”

  “Me? Who is he?”

  “Not know name. That his horse over there.”

  He was pointing at a black stallion, which was eating fodder in an indoor stall. The stallion was unique, Kristin noticed with a jolt. Its flank and one rear leg were tawny brown, not black. She peered at it, stung by a realization. It was impossible for there to be two horses in this area so identical. This was the stallion Sean had told her about, the one Ambrewster had stolen from Ned Boone after killing him. That meant that. . . .

  She kneed her mount and galloped off into the night, down the trail leading to Cloison Gap. She hoped she wasn’t too late! Ambrewster must be in Yukon. He had evidently arrived earlier than Sean had thought he would. He’d found out Sean was living with a girl and probably planned to abduct Kristin so Sean would go after her. Kristin did not know his plan exactly, but that seemed reasonable.

  So now the murderer was in town, and soon he’d learn that Sean was headed toward Cloison Gap to try to catch him and the Torrys by surprise. But the surprise would be on Sean! Ambrewster would know he was there and would sneak up on him from the other direction. She had to warn him before it was too late!

  She kneed her mount harder and galloped swiftly down the moon washed dirt lane. The cold air stung her face, and her scarf blew wildly in the wind behind her. She watched the trees flash by at the sides of the road, becoming almost a blur as she raced forward.

  It usually took four hours to reach the Gap. Kristin made it in just over two. Her steed was panting, and its coat was glistening with sweat as she now slowed it to a trot and then to a walk.

  The Gap was a crossroads at the base of four steep hills, one on each corner. Kristin looked up, craning her neck back. McShane was probably establishing himself at the top of one of the hills now so that he would have a good vantage point. He would want to be able to see Ambrewster and the Torry brothers as they came up the road from Tarry ton before they saw him. Which hill would he pick? she wondered. He probably wasn’t at the top yet, or he’d have seen her and called down to her. He must be circling up one of the hills along some back road trail, right at this moment.

  She should ride a bit forward, she thought, so he could see her from any of the four hills once he was in position. At the moment, she was only visible from the two westward hills. As she rode slowly forward, she continued scanning the tops of the hills. Dawn was just about to break, blushing pinkly at the horizon.

  Suddenly Kristin heard a running sound and saw a flash of movement near her. She looked down just as a hand reached up and grasped her jacket front, then jerked her down. She toppled forward and was tugged off her horse. A mean looking, gaunt-faced young man in a dark pinstripe suit, wearing a hat and tie, held her down on the ground as she struggled beneath him.

  “Well, lookit what I got,” he declared in a nasty, taunting voice. “A new girlfriend!”

  CHAPTER 20

  “Let me go,” Kristin demanded, trying to struggle free.

  “Hey, Ambrewster!” the young man in the pinstripe suit called out. “Give me a hand!”

  A second man, older than the first, came out from the bushes at the side of the road. He grasped Kristin’s legs, which were flailing about as she tried to kick the first man. The older man stared down at his friend’s catch, very impressed. He had a mustache and wore a corduroy jacket and trousers, and a cap with fur flaps.

  “That’s right,” said Kristin’s captor, reaffirming his own observation. “A dame! What the hell is a dame doing out here alone at this hour?”

 
; “Let me go!” Kristin cried, writhing and twisting, trying to get away.

  Ambrewster leaned so close, inspecting her, that his mustache almost touched her face. “This ain’t just any dame, either, Johnny-boy. What a looker!”

  “She’s too damn spirited!” Johnny Torry cursed, struggling to hold her as she tried to scratch and bite him.

  “Well,” said Ambrewster in a practical, matter-of-fact tone, “let’s get her off the road. And take her horse too. We can’t let her go now that you stopped her. She might ride back into town and warn McShane we’re coming.” He looked at Kristin menacingly. “You know a man named McShane? Sean McShane?”

  She shook her head vigorously

  “You came from Yukon. How can you live in Yukon and not know who Sean McShane is?”

  “Let me go, you scum! You’ve got no right to stop me! Let me go!”

  They pulled her back into the bushes, then further back to a clearing. A camp had been made, and a third man was there attending to the horses. He seemed like a big-city man and was very disgruntled about having to deal with horses. But his expression changed when he saw the prize his two partners were dragging into camp.

  “What a beaut,” said the man, whistling in appreciation. He, too, wore a dark suit, tie and fedora. It was crazy to wear such Chicago style business attire out here in the rugged Yukon. The two men in suits looked ridiculously out of place.

  “Ray, get some rope,” said the younger man.

  “Sure, Johnny-boy.” He hurried to the saddles, which had been deposited on the ground near the horses, and unlatched a coil of rope. He brought it over to Ambrewster and Johnny Torry.

  They yanked off Kristin’s coat, then forced her arms up to a branch of a sturdy tree and tied her wrists together over the top of it. Her body was stretched taut, and her legs barely touched the ground. She tried to kick, but Ambrewster came up close to her and grasped her knees, holding them tightly together. He grinned menacingly, at her. His hand went to caress her bosom through her thick, black sweater.

  “Let me go, you swine!” she hissed through gritted teeth. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but did not dare. McShane would probably hear if she screamed, and he might lose his temper and rush down in a blind rage to save her. His effectiveness would be ruined if he were in that state. He might come charging in like a bull, crazy with fury, and get himself killed— and not do Kristin any good either.

  It was better to not provoke McShane into a mindless, futile attack. He must wait until he could surprise them the way he had originally planned. Kristin did not have to warn him as to their presence here, because they were on this side of the Gap just as Sean expected them to be, and he would see them from his vantage point when they rode forward at daylight. Which made Kristin suddenly wonder how Ambrewster had got here so quickly after she’d seen his horse at the stable in town. He had not passed her on the road. How had he got here?

  Her thoughts were disrupted by the feel of Ambrewster’s hands at her belt, unlatching it. She began groaning as she struggled, but her resistance was useless. Her ankles were being held together by Johnny Torry, the younger of the Torry brothers. Ambrewster had her pants unbuttoned now, and he tugged and yanked them down her body to her ankles. His hands went to her underwear and, in a simple, swift movement, ripped them off.

  “Oh, you bastard!” she cried, unable to control herself. The men stared at her naked loins and shapely legs, mesmerized with lust.

  “I ain’t seen nothing looks that good in a long time,” said the younger Torry.

  “I ain’t seen nothing that good never,” said Ray Torry.

  They tied her ankles apart, to the bases of nearby trees. Ί¾en their hands were all over her, rubbing along the inside of her thighs, squeezing her buttocks, gliding in under her sweater to fondle her breasts. Kristin cursed at them and cried out in shame. She writhed about within the confines of her tethers.

  “Ray,” Ambrewster said, “she’s making too much noise. You go keep a lookout in the bushes. Make sure no one comes along.”

  “Who’s going to be out riding at this hour?” Ray protested hotly, angry at being denied such a luscious treat.

  “She was,” Ambrewster answered equally as hotly. He hated to be disobeyed.

  Ray Torry glared at him furiously, but when he spoke, there was a beaten sound to his voice. “Why can’t you just gag her if she’s making too much noise?”

  Ambrewster grinned lecherously. “I like the sound.” Then the grin faded. “But aside from that, it’s safer if we have a lookout. You go do it now, and I’ll have Johnny-boy relieve you in a couple minutes. Don’t worry, you won’t miss out on anything. You’ll get your share.”

  “You see that I do,” Ray answered, picking up a rifle and starting out of the clearing.

  “Wait!” Kristin cried out, surprising all three of them. She looked at Ray and wet her lips seductively, as if she were becoming excited by the groping hands all over her body. “You’re the best looking one,” she said to him in a low, teasing voice. “Don’t you leave. Please. You stay. . . .”

  The hood smiled broadly, his ego inflated. Ambrewster glared at Kristin, frowning in bewilderment. He did not understand. There was no way he could know that Kristin was doing this to save McShane’s life. McShane must have heard her cries by now, despite her efforts to keep her voice down; they would carry for nearly a half mile in the still night. And he would probably be rushing down here in a rage. He wouldn’t know they had a lookout planted. He would be killed, she was sure, unless she could keep all three of them in the encampment, paying no attention to the surrounding woods.

  Ray came up to her and put his hand on her naked belly. “You like me, do you, huh, dame?” He was grinning with pride. When Kristin nodded, unable to keep the embarrassment from her eyes despite her courage, he moved his hand down lower until he was rubbing over her womanhood. She sucked in her breath.

  “I’m not leaving,” the older Torry said to Ambrewster. “She likes me.”

  Ambrewster was furious but saw that he could not force the issue. Ray’s mind was made up, and to challenge him at this point would mean bloodshed. He turned to Johnny Torry. “All right. You go.”

  Torry shook his head, his expression resolute

  Kristin thought she had succeeded in her ploy, and she allowed herself a small measure of satisfaction, even though she knew it would mean agony for her as the three men ravaged her helpless body. But then Ambrewster grasped the rifle away from Ray’s hands and declared, “All right, damn it. I’ll go! But one of you relieve me damn soon, you hear?”

  “No,” Kristin said. “Don’t go. I want ... I want all of you all at once.”

  “Shut up,” growled Ambrewster. He turned and left the clearing.

  This was even worse than it would have been if one of the Torry boys had gone, Kristin realized with despair. Ambrewster was the meanest and most cunning of the bunch. Either of the Torry brothers might have missed hearing footsteps in the woods, but Ambrewster would not. And now, to make matters worse, she had to put up with the horror of both these men attacking her at once, spurred on to even greater ardor by the encouraging words she had spoken.

  “Boy, we got a hot number here!” Ray said, lifting the hem of her sweater up to the top of her bosom. She was laid bare now from her armpits down to her knees. The cowboy boots were still on her, her pants were bunched up at her ankles, and her sweater was bunched up around her upraised arms.

  “Please!” she cried out. “Stop it! Don’t . . . don’t do anything to me.”

  Johnny laughed. “She’s playing a game. She likes to pretend she doesn’t like it. Isn’t that it, doll?”

  “I’m not pretending! I hate you, you scum! You filthy vermin!”

  Johnny frowned. “Let’s see if you hate this.” He put his mouth to her breast and began moving his wet lips all over it, licking it, flicking her nipple with his tongue. At the same time, his brother, becoming excited at the way Kristin threw her hea
d back and groaned, got down to his knees and put his mouth on Kristin’s belly. He then ran his moist tongue slowly down to the wispy mound of her womanhood.

  She went wild when his tongue and lips became active, sparkling flashes of uncontrollable sensation down in her loins. She was helpless against the tingling, surging pleasure that burned within her as the one man’s mouth sucked and licked her nipples, moving from one to the other, while the other man was down between her legs, doing things to her that no man had ever done before. Things she had never even dreamed could be done.

  The pleasure grew in intensity, sending her into wild spasms. She was sobbing and groaning and panting for breath all at once.

  Ray Torry became unbearably excited by hearing her cries and feeling her body shudder. He quickly got to his feet, stared at her with burning, lust-inflamed eyes and undid his belt buckle.

  “Oh, noooo . . .” Kristin moaned, watching him. This would be the ultimate agony.

  His pants were unbuckled now, but before he could push them down, something happened that abruptly shattered the mood, the air, the dawn. A rifle shot rang out. It was a sharp crack!” which reverberated through the Gap.

  “What was that?” Ray asked, stunned.

  “You idiot,” scolded his brother, leaving Kristin to go get his rifle. “You know damn well what it was. So pull up your trousers and get yourself a weapon.” Johnny was all business now that his services were called upon. He was a professional hit man who instantly snapped into his alert, sharp, single-minded attitude. His older brother was not quite so hardened a veteran, and Kristin saw a look of great disappointment pass over his face as he stared at her nakedness. Then he, too, snapped into his professional character and rebuckled his pants. He turned away from her to go do his duty.

  Ambrewster and Johnny were at the edge of the clearing, hunkered down for protection, staring all around. They were trying to discover where the shot had come from.

  Another shot rang out, splintering into the side of a tree a good five yards away. “Wherever he is,” remarked Ambrewster, “he’s a lousy shot. Or he’s out of range.”