The Grandmaster’s Legacy: Masters of Love and War (A Taylor Lee HOT Historical Romantic Suspense Collection) (The Grandmaster's Legacy)

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The Grandmaster’s Legacy: Masters of Love and War (A Taylor Lee HOT Historical Romantic Suspense Collection) (The Grandmaster's Legacy) Page 92

by Taylor Lee


  Chapter 40

  Bai no longer felt the pain in his shoulder. Blessed numbness deadened most of the agony he endured over the last twenty four hours. The kicks and strikes had stopped, at least for now. He was tied to the post, his arms, legs, and back twisted in impossible positions. The numbness mercifully prevented blinding pain. But the slightest movement awakened the throbbing nerve ends. Only his carefully honed ability to appear unconscious had saved him from more severe beatings and unbearable pain. His two informants among the four men guarding him knew it was impossible to free him. Bai was grateful that they managed to convince their sadistic cohorts how much more rewarding it would be to beat him when he was conscious. They could enjoy his screams.

  Like the informants, Bai had to wait to see the final plan that his father, Wyatt, and Nianzu implemented. He agonized over Wan’s pain. He knew Wan left him with the Rongue Ri only because Bai had made him swear a sacred oath if he was captured or killed, Wan would retake control of the Sing Leon and fight the war for Bai. Thank God, Wyatt was there. For the first time he was grateful that Wyatt knew he was Wan’s son. Knowing that would help him understand Wan’s profound grief.

  Squeezing his eyes to narrow slits, he watched Feng plan for the attack. Bai was tied to the post in the middle of a clearing. Fifty feet away, forty Rongue Ri were hiding in the bushes. What Feng did not know was that at least a third of them were Sing Leon. As masterful as the Sing Leon plan was, the “hole” in their thinking was as apparent now as it had ever been. Even though Feng and his four personal guards were the only visible Rongue Ri, a minimum of fifty guns were trained on Bai from the bushes. At the slightest provocation, he would be dead. Even now Bai knew it was virtually impossible for his father and Wyatt to protect him when they attacked.

  His thoughts turned to Elena, where they had been since he was captured. He was determined that his last hours on this earth would be filled with thoughts of her. He forced away his usual obsessed fears for her safety and his anger at her disobedience. Instead, he focused on her body, one glorious part after another. One by one, he replayed in exquisite detail each time they had made love. On more than one occasion, he smiled to himself, glad for the tortured position of his bound body, knowing what Feng would do if he saw Bai’s bulging erection.

  He started with agony at the vividness of his imagination. He could almost see her, smell her, and hear her voice. Then, to his horror, he opened his eyes the tiniest slit to see her riding into the clearing. She trotted in on Zhenqui, her fiery hair flying behind her. A sultry smile toyed on her lips. She rode up to a surprised Feng Zhang and dismounted. Striding up to him, her hands saucily hugging her hips, she looked him in the eye.

  “You are Mr. Feng Zhang, leader of the Rongue Ri, correct?”

  Feng nodded, clearly stunned at her unexpected arrival and direct challenge.

  “Yes, I am Feng Zhang.”

  She smiled. “I am Elena McManus, granddaughter of Wan Chang, daughter of Wyatt McManus.

  “I used to be his woman.” She jerked her chin disdainfully at Bai bound to the post. “As agreed between Wichi Fan and him in their death match at the saloon, I belong to the survivor. As he is about to die, Mr. Feng, I presume you are the survivor. If you are, then I am your cunt.”

  Feng stood staring at her in disbelief, then recovered.

  His face twisted in an ugly grin.

  “Yes, I do know who you are. As I recall, you are the cunt who belongs to no one. But, Miss Elena, you went rather quickly with the Frenchman – for not belonging to anyone”

  She tossed her head with a dismissive gesture.

  “He killed Wichi. He survived. That was the agreement, correct? The survivor gets the cunt.

  “We know who I am,” she said, sauntering over to him, her hands on her hips and gave him a naughty grin. “The question is, Mr. Feng, who are you? Are you the ultimate survivor? Or just one of my stops along the way? You can see why I say I belong to no one. You keep killing each other off.”

  Feng’s lips twisted in an ugly grin. “You are a saucy little cunt, aren’t you? Quite a mouth on you.”

  Elena lifted her chin in scorn anf huffed, “You men! That’s what he always said.” She pointed to Bai. “He said I was too feisty, hard to control, difficult to keep in line. Always threatening, but never doing anything. What do you think, Mr. Feng? Can you control me better than the Frenchman could?”

  Feng threw his head back and roared. He turned to his men and said in a harsh voice, “How long do you think this little bitch will mouth off when I truss her up like a squalling pig and whip the sass off of her?”

  Elena tossed her head, a fiery torrent of red, gold-tipped curls shone in the sunlight. “Promises, promises. That’s all I heard from the Frenchman. Look at me! Tell me, Mr. Feng, when have you seen breasts like these?”

  She opened her blouse to reveal a lace camisole cut low to show off the lush mounds of soft white flesh. Feng and his men stared at her round eyed.

  She added with a smirk. “That isn’t the half of it.”

  Before they could answer, Elena pulled up her skirt and flashed her shapely legs. Further revealing her lacy drawers and sexy knee high lizard skin boots, she kicked her foot high in the air. Prancing in a circle around Feng, she grinned a salacious grin.

  “Now tell me, Mr. Feng, if you had the opportunity to fuck someone like me, would you? Do you think you are up to me? The Frenchman said he was. Ha! Do you know what this man was doing last night before he rode off to play fighting games with you?” She stomped her foot and puffed up her mouth in a petulant pout. “He was fucking his whore — his whore! Flaunting her! Can you imagine that?”

  Her face hardened in mock seriousness. She strolled up to Feng and poked her finger in his chest. “Now you, Mr. Feng, you are not going to have whores. Oh, no. I will be more than enough woman for you. Maybe even too much woman, hmm, Mr. Feng? Will I be too much for you, Mr. Feng?”

  Feng stared at her, angry lust gleaming in his eyes. He reached out for her, but she flounced away. With a mischievous grin, she tossed her hair in a flaming circle of gold around her shoulders.

  “No, no, no. Mr. Feng. Mustn’t touch. Remember I belong to the survivor. At least for the moment, that is still him.” She pointed at Bai, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “But one thing needs to be clear. Mr. Feng. You may beat me on occasion, I will permit that. But as for whipping the sass off of me. Not likely, Mr. Feng!”

  Feng’s face flushed a dark ugly crimson, seeing that his men grinning at the show she put on at his expense. A menacing growl broke from his lips. He moved ominously toward her, his fists clenched at his side.

  Her delicious laugh rang out. With a quick whirl she pranced next to Bai, raising one finger behind her back, praying he understood they were just a minute from help arriving.

  ~~~

  The physical pain Bai felt was nothing compared to his horror when he saw Elena ride alone into the clearing, dismount and boldly walk up to Feng. He immediately knew she had taken it upon herself to do the unthinkable. She came to save him. Wyatt and Wan would never permit this. They would never allow her to put herself in this danger. They must have told her no. Once again, she refused to listen, refused to do what she was told. As usual, she consciously, carelessly, flagrantly disobeyed orders.

  One clear consistent life-enforcing thought coursed through him as he watched her torment Feng. He vowed when he got his hands on her he was going to beat the hell out of her. Even if he had no other reason to live, the thought of dragging her bare ass across his lap and spanking her until his hand gave out was reason enough to live.

  His fear soared as she brazenly taunted Feng, flaunting her beautiful body. Merde, she did not understand the rage building in Feng. Or, he realized in shock, perhaps she did.

  Bai saw Feng’s confusion, his angry flustered face. He saw him rush toward her, forgetting everything except getting his hands on her. Then Bai knew. Her words were clues, code, she was talking to him.
Every outrageous taunt was a hidden message for him. When he saw the signal behind her back and heard the hoof beats, hope rushed over him. At that moment, he knew that the most beautiful, most brave, most outrageous woman in the world had indeed come to save him. Relief flooded him, then joy. He would be able to spank her beautiful ass after all.

  Feng started at the sound of horses approaching. He and his men shared questioning glances as they drew their guns. They all knew the Sing Leon would not ride head on into the clearing, plus they didn’t expect them for several hours.

  Frowning, Feng looked up astonished. He stepped back next to his men as a large band of Mexican banditos rode into the clearing.

  Their leader called out, “Hola, Chink men. Hola. Hold your weapons. We are friends – amigos – riding through. No trouble, Chink men!”

  Feng and his men kowered their guns and stepped back.

  Senor Panches and five of him men dismounted. They came forward to stand in front of Feng and his guards.

  Feng hesitated, trying to decide whether to call on his men hiding in the bushes. Knowing that would leave them unprepared for the Sing Leon, he decided to bluff it out with the Mexicans.

  Motioning to his men to holster their guns, Feng stepped up to the Mexican leader and said in an ominous voice, “This is a fight between Chinamen. It does not involve Mexicans. Go your way.”

  Senor Panches nodded in agreement, then looked around and said as if in surprise, “But, wait, you do have something we may want. It is the mujer de friego, the fire woman, the one who belongs to El Frances.”

  Elena marched forward, pushing aside Feng and his guards. She stepped up to Senor Panches and glowered.” You are mistaken, Senor. I belong to no one. Most certainly not to the Frenchman. Do you think I belong to that?” She walked over next to Bai and pointed at him in disgust.

  Senor Panches squinted at Bai with interest. Motioning to several of his men to join him, he moved next to Bai.

  “Well, well, it is El Frances. Not looking good, Senor Frances.”

  He turned back to Feng and grinned.

  “Hmm, Chink man, are you going to kill El Frances or ransom him off? Wan Chang, el hombre jefe, will pay good money for him. We might like some of that money, si?” he added with a menacing smile.

  Feng and his men stood warily watching the Mexicans. Feng knew he couldn’t hold off much longer before he called on his hidden men, but was worried about getting caught in the crossfire.

  Panches nodded to two of his men and said, “See if he is dead. If he is, he is worth nothing. Ah, but if he is alive, we can work with these Chink men to ransom him off – por mucho dinero, por supuesto.”

  The two men bent over Bai and one whispered, “Colgar en Frances. Nosotros le ayudaremous.” They pretended to kick him, probing to see if he was alive. Instead, they shielded him from view and cut the ties binding him. The excruciating pain from the slight movement caused beads of sweat to pop out on Bai’s face. It took every ounce of strength he had to maintain his bent twisted position against the post.

  While Feng’s attention was focused on Panches, the Mexicans still on horseback formed a circle around Feng and his four guards, separating them from their back up men in the bushes.

  At that moment Senor Panches shouted out, “Ahora! Now!”

  Like a well oiled machine, the two Sing Leon informants guarding Feng shot and killed their fellow guards standing next to Feng. Senor Panches shot Feng in the shoulder and with a second shot, hit him in the knee cap. The Rongue Ri men in the bushes took aim at the Mexicans and in doing so revealed their positions. The Sing Leon informants next to them picked them off easily, many of them with an assassin’s bullet to the back of the head. The ones they didn’t kill, the Mexicans did.

  When the shots rang out, the Sing Leon, one hundred strong, appeared over the ridge. Led by Wan Chang, with Wyatt and Nianzu at his side, the fierce men rode into the clearing to rescue their leader.

  Wyatt and Wan had waited behind the ridge for the signal to attack. Watching her flounce about, taunting, teasing Feng, they shook their heads in a mix of anger and admiration at Elena’s outrageous behavior. When she opened her blouse and lifted her skirt and kicked high in the air, Wyatt groaned audibly. “Goddamn her. I don’t know who gets her first, Wan. Bai, you, or me. But I’ll tell you this, that is one little ass that is going to be more than bright red.”

  When Senor Panches yelled his command, Elena and the two banditos dropped next to Bai, shielding his body. He stifled his groans and struggled to remain conscious as unbearable pain swamped him. Elena clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably, saying over and over, “You are all right, Bai. You are safe. We’re here. I’m here. Nothing can hurt you now.”

  After the shooting stopped, Wan and Wyatt rode up next to Bai and dismounted.

  Elena leapt up and whirled on Feng. Turning to Panches, her face contorted with rage. “Pick him up, Senor Panches,” she ordered, pointing to Feng, bleeding and cowering on the ground. “Pick up that disgusting pig of a man and hold him.”

  Panches did as she requested. Her father and grandfather hesitated, then stepped back.

  “Hold him up for me. Now! Keep him upright.”

  Elena twisted her skirt in a knot and tucked it in the waistband freeing her legs in their lacy drawers and knee high boots. With a practiced turn, she spun and kicked Feng full in the face, shattering his nose and jaw.

  Feng fell to the ground, screaming in pain, wailing, begging for mercy. Her face dark with fury, Elena ignored his pleas and drove a merciless flurry of kicks at his body. Most were at his groin — the rest at his face. Blood was everywhere. As she struck him again and again, she screamed at him. With each screamed question, she struck another furious blow.

  “You pig! You thought you could touch me? Beat me? Put your filthy hands on me? Touch the Frenchman’s woman? Wan Chang’s granddaughter? Wyatt McManus’s daughter? You? You filthy pig? Touch me? Never! Never!”

  Finally, Senor Panches spoke. His voice was soft, gentle. “Senora, you can stop. I think he is dead now.”

  She shook her head and wound up for another kick.

  Wyatt stepped forward, reaching for her. “Darlin’. Elena. That’s enough, baby.”

  She ignored him. Flipping over, she drove another crushing kick to Feng’s head, smashing his ear, splitting the side of his head.

  “Elena.” Bai’s voice was quiet but firm. “Bon travail, cherie. Well done, mon amour. You may stop now.”

  Elena stepped back, shaking, staring at what was left of the bloodied shattered man lying on the ground. She turned to Bai, her face was pale, her lips trembling. .

  “He… he thought he could touch me, Bai. That pig… that pig of a man! He thought he could touch me!”

  “Non, non, cherie, never. He never could and never will.”

  Nianzu and the others strapped Bai to a pallet, keeping him as still as possible. They placed him in a cart pulled by two pack horses cushioning the ride with a nest of hay. Elena sat next to him, cradling his head in her lap, giving him sips of water. Wan rode on one side of the cart, Wyatt on the other. Followed by their men, they headed back to Los Vistas.

  Bai drifted in and out of consciousness. She heard him whisper her name and leaned down next to his lips.

  “Elena?”

  “Yes, Bai?”

  “I am going to turn you over my knee and spank your bare ass so goddamned hard you will not sit down for a month. You know I am going to do that, oui, cherie?”

  She smiled through her tears. “You will have to get in line, Bai. Behind my father and your father.”

  Chapter 41

  They entered the courtyard to Los Vistas and four of the Sing Leon sprang forward to carry Bai’s pallet to his chambers. Dr. Wong and Madam Chan were waiting for them, along with two of their aides. They had set up a narrow treatment table so that they could reach him from all sides and laid out supplies on a table next to them.

  Nianzu directed the men carrying the
pallet to the treatment table. He and three other men slid their hands under Bai. When Nianzu gave the signal, they moved him to the table.

  Dr. Wong and Madam Chan nodded to the men.

  Madam Chan said, “You all may leave.”

  Elena’s voice rang out. “Absolutely not!”

  Elena came in the room, followed by Wyatt and Wan.

  “Nianzu, please stay, and you as well, Quitin.”

  She turned to face Dr. Wong and Madam Chan, who stepped back in surprise at the young woman issuing orders. They both looked to Wan Chang for directions.

  Wan nodded to them and said, “Elena is also a healer. Please do as she asks.”

  He turned to Elena. “My only request is if you do not know how to do something, you will defer to these two people. They have served me and my men well over the years.”

  Elena nodded and said to Wyatt, “Father, will you and Nianzu please get his clothes off and then help me remove the bullet.”

  Wyatt nodded. He and the men moved quickly. They cut away Bai’s shredded clothes trying to jostle him as little as possible. He groaned in response to their efforts, but then was quiet.

  Stepping up to his side, Elena felt carefully around the entrance to the bullet wound that was covered with dried blood and debris. She looked to her father, who smiled encouragingly and stepped up next to her.

  Bai opened his eyes and said with a wry smile, “Madam Healer, is the patient allowed to speak?”

  Elena startled and paled.

  “Oh, my God, Bai! What… I… I thought you were unconscious. What do you need?”

  “First, cherie, I need you to kiss me. Then, if possible, I would like as much bourbon as you can get down my throat before you start digging around for that bullet. And a couple of those pain pills I made you take would be useful, as well.”

  Elena sobbed, trying to control her emotions. “Oh, God, Bai. Oh my God, I was so afraid I would never hear you… touch you again…”

  “The kiss, Elena. And cherie, the way I would kiss you if I could…”

 

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