“But I--”
“Go.”
When she tried to sidestep him, the second guard shoved her away from the door and barked, “Sit.” He pushed her so hard, she actually stumbled backward.
Jun gasped at his behavior. “What am I, a dog? And how dare you lay a hand on me!”
“So?” The guard shoved her again, simply to show how much he didn't regret his treatment of her. “When your contract's up, then we'll talk about letting you leave. For now, you need to sit your ass down!”
“How long is the contact for?” asked a flustered Jun.
“Two years.”
“Two years?” As her pulse raced, Jun staggered to the table and collapsed into one of its creaky chairs.
She had somehow managed to land herself in another awful predicament.
Eight
An hour ago, Carol and the Coles left the hovertrain and made the journey to Busybee on foot. When they reached their makeshift camp in the middle of the desert, Carol was inappropriately excited.
“Alright!” she cheered. “What's first on our agenda, partner? Are we going to go take down some baddies or not?”
“We're not,” Josiah apathetically replied. “If you haven't noticed, Miss Cassady, the stars are coming out. It isn't the appropriate time for rooting and tooting, as you like to put it. And by the way, what makes you think we're not the baddies? We tried to rob you, remember?”
“Oh yeah. I forgot.” Carol shrugged. “Flynn has such a sweet face, I keep thinking he's an angel.”
When Flynn met her gaze, he smiled and winked. Meanwhile, the older brother laid on the ground and slid his hat over his face.
“So... what are we going to do, then?” Despite Josiah's lethargy, Carol still sounded hopeful for some action. “Are we going to shoot and skin some animals? I've always wanted to go hunting, but my dad and brother wouldn't take me!”
“Nope,” Josiah replied. “I would, but Flynn hates it when I do that. So we end up eating a vegetarian supper more often than not. The boy loves animals.”
“Yeah,” agreed Flynn, who was slowly warming up to the idea of talking to Carol. “I do.”
“Awww! Well, that's sweet of you, Flynn! To be honest, the idea of skinning a rabbit kinda makes me queasy too,” Carol confessed. “So... if we're not shooting anything, what does a cowboy do out here in the desert? How do you get your kicks?”
“I'm afraid the cowboy life is a little less glamorous than you expected, Miss Cassady,” Josiah's voice was slightly muffled beneath his hat. “Flynn's going to build us a fire, and then we're going to lay.”
“A fire keeps the nastier critters away,” Flynn timidly added as he wandered the area, searching for decent tinder material.
“Wait!” Carol sat down and hauled her backpack onto her lap. “I know a better way to start a fire! Check this out!” Flynn paused, waiting to see what Carol had in mind. As she rifled through her bag, she kept getting distracted by various objects. She pulled out a slide whistle, made it toot, then tossed it. Then she got out a harmonica and treated the Coles to a few sour notes. “This harmonica is so cowboy!” Carol declared before setting it aside.
“I fail to see how any of this starts a fire, Miss Cassady,” said Josiah, who could barely see her in the corner of his eye. His hat was blocking her, and he liked it that way.
“I'm getting to it! Be patient! Hold your horses! Oh my god! Cowboys totally say that, don't they?” In a booming voice, she repeated, “HOLD YER HORSES!”
Flynn didn't see any progress from Carol, so he quietly continued his collection of tinder.
“Hey, look at this!” Carol pulled out a pink gun and waved it at Josiah. “I forgot that I packed this! Isn't this fancy schmancy? I bet you've never seen a pink revolver before, huh?”
“Nuh uh. Hell no.” Josiah suddenly slid his hat back to his head and sat up. Holding out his hand, he demanded, “Gimme that.”
“My gun?”
“Yeah. Your gun.” As soon as Carol handed the pink gun to Josiah, he opened its chamber, removed its bullets, and pitched it across the desert as hard as he could. “Yeah, I'm not gonna let you use that.”
“Gosh! You're so mean!” Carol's brow furrowed as she continued to search her bag for the appropriate item. When she finally found it, she pulled it out and yelled, “Ta da!”
Carol's unique item fit in the palm of her hand. It looked like a small metal box, about five inches tall, with a smiley face on the front of it. “What the hell is that?” Josiah asked, sneering.
“This is my Gogobot.” Carol leaned closer to the small object and shouted, “Gogobot, on!”
Metal arms and legs suddenly popped out from the sides of the box, and they heard a soft whirring sound as the robot came to life. Carol gently placed him on the ground and commanded, “Gogobot, make a fire!”
Slack-jawed and silent, both Cole brothers watched as Carol's tiny robot toddled forward. As it waddled across the desert, it said, “Yip... go... go... go! Yip! Go!” When he finally found a stick, Gogobot excitedly waved it in his claw-like hand. “Yip... go!”
“Good job, Gogobot!” Carol cheered for her creation. “Now you're really cooking with grease! I know you can do this, little buddy! I've got faith in you!”
“Yip!” Gogobot spotted a dry bush and tried to charge toward it. Along the way, he tripped on a rock and toppled onto his smiling face. As his legs flailed helplessly, he yelled, “gogogogogogogo!”
Carol ran toward him and set him on his feet. “It's okay, Gogo! Give it another shot!”
While dragging his hands down his face, Josiah sprang to his feet and roared, “This is stupid! I'm not going to wait on that thing to get the job done! I can make a fire faster with my own two hands.”
“Awww... don't be mean to Gogo!” Carol whined. “He tries his best!”
“He's useless.” With a grunt, Josiah leaned down to collect a fistful of sticks.
“No, he's not! He's totally useful! And he's multipurpose! There's lots of things he can do!” Carol's eyes swelled when she saw Gogo torching the bush. A massive spray of flame spiraled from Gogo's block-like fist. “Oh shit, Gogo! Uhh, wow. That's, uh, that's not quite what you were supposed to do, buddy, but uhhh...”
“Turn that damn thing off!” Josiah demanded as he and Flynn worked together to stamp out the flaming bush. “If you don't mind, I'd rather start a fire the old-fashioned way.”
“That thing seems dangerous,” Flynn quietly gave his opinion of Carol's tiny bot. And because he rarely spoke, she had to take him seriously.
With a sigh, Carol commanded her robot, “Gogo... sleep.” As soon as he powered down, she returned him to her bag and sighed again. “Try to cut him some slack, okay? He's just a prototype. I'm still trying to work out the kinks.”
When Flynn finished building his fire, Josiah sat back down and reloaded his tranq gun. Now that her guard was down, it would have been easy to put Carol to sleep and rid himself of her unwanted company, but he felt guilty about leaving her in the middle of nowhere. She didn't strike him as someone who could survive in the desert on her own.
Carol's nose wrinkled when she saw the younger brother opening a can of beans. “Ewwwww!” Her moan was loud and long. “Beans? Seriously? I hate beans!”
“Aw. I'm sorry, Miss Cassady. I forgot to prepare a proper cuisine for you!” Josiah sarcastically said. “I'll just reach into my bag and pull out my turkey and stuffing instead.”
“Mmm. Could you? That sounds so good!”
Josiah's eyes narrowed as he studied her. He wasn't sure if she was joking or serious, and he didn't care to ask. By the time Flynn handed him a plate of beans, he was starving, so he dug in. Carol was a little more hesitant. She sniffed her food several times before a single bean passed through her lips.
“This is so nasty!” Carol complained as she shoved a bite into her mouth. “Ew! Seriously... ew ew ew!”
“This is the cowboy life for you,” Josiah snorted. “It sounds like you'
re loving it so far.”
“Bleeeech! Blechity blech yucky yuck!” Though she continued to eat, she unabashedly bashed Flynn's food.
Carol's bean-induced groans were interrupted by a snort and a whinny. Josiah's speckled mare and Flynn's auburn bay somehow made their way back to them. “Heeey, girl!” Josiah rose to his knees to greet his returning steed. When the horse lowered her head, Josiah nuzzled his nose against her muzzle. “You're such a good girl, aren't you?
“I didn't expect to see them again!” exclaimed Flynn, who welcomed his stallion with outstretched arms and an affectionate embrace.
“That's loyalty for you!” Josiah's mare kept trying to lick his hair, so he kept trying to duck. “I know a few women like that too. No matter how many times you try to leave them behind, they just keep coming back to you.”
Flynn chuckled at his brother's remark, but Carol didn't look amused in the slightest.
“I'm trying to figure out why any ladies would like you,” Carol told him as she struggled to slide another spoonful of beans through her resistant lips. “You're mean, you're a criminal, and you're kind of short.”
“I ain't short!” Josiah protested with a snort. His mare snorted with him, presumably in agreement. “You're short!”
“Okay, maybe you're not that short, but you're not that tall, either,” Carol said with a shrug. “And... what turns someone to a life of crime, anyway? Like... at what point do you wake up and think to yourself, hey, you know what, I think I'm gonna start stealing some stuff?”
Josiah finished his food and tossed his plate aside. After a few seconds of silence, he grumbled an answer. “I don't know.”
“What does your mom think?” Carol asked. “I bet she's kind of disappointed in you, isn't she?”
“I don't know,” he repeated. “But I don't think it matters, 'cause she's dead.”
“Awww. Sorry.” Carol showed her sympathy with a pout. “But... what if she's watching over you from the great beyond? Don't you think she'd be disappointed in you two?”
“Don't know, don't care,” Josiah muttered. “My mom hated me.”
“She liked me, though,” Flynn softly spoke up.
“Yeah, she liked the golden boy.” If Flynn was sitting anywhere near him, Josiah would have been tempted to shove him.
“Okay, then... what about your dad?”
“Also dead,” Josiah replied.
Staring into the fire, Flynn added with a frown, “I was an orphan at age twelve.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, Flynn. That's sad, honey,” Carol reached over to pat his arm, which made him blush. “Alright, then... maybe you don't have parents that would be disappointed in you, but do you have any grandparents?”
“Nope.” Josiah shook his head. “All dead.”
“Um... what about a kindly uncle?”
He shook his head again.
“An aunt?”
“Nope.”
“Ummm... okay. Was there ever a sweet old neighbor lady who lived across the street, and now she'd be shaking her head if she knew what you boys were up to?”
“Nah. Not really.”
“How about a girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
Josiah grunted at the thought. “Hell no.”
“Well... dang!” At the end of her interrogation, Carol's eyes were wide. “I guess that is why you turned to a life of crime, bud. No one cares about you enough. There was never anyone there to talk you out of it, so you became a bad boy.” Her gaze shifted to the younger brother. “Flynn seems nice, though.”
“That's because the asshole doesn't talk,” Josiah theorized. “I'm sure I'd seem nicer if I wasn't saying anything.”
“Sooo...” Carol momentarily stopped speaking to slap a mosquito from her neck. “You're admitting you'd be more likable if you were mute? Isn't that kind of a red flag? Maybe it's time to start reassessing your character, big brother.”
“You know what? Maybe you're right. And I'm about to pretend to be mute so I don't have to answer your damn questions anymore!” An exhausted Josiah dragged a hand down his face. “Just so you know... Flynn's no angel. He'd shoot our enemies just as easily as I would. Hell, he's probably a better shot than me.”
Flynn proudly nodded at his brother's statement.
“Anyway, I gotta go take a piss.” Josiah said as he dragged himself to his feet and marched away. “And I'll be takin' my time, believe me.”
As Josiah strutted away, Carol leaned closer to Flynn and whispered, “So... what's the deal with your brother? He's kind of a crabby crab, isn't he?”
Flynn didn't respond.
“I'm starting to get the impression that he hasn't had much joy in his life. I'm not wrong, am I?”
Again, he said nothing.
Carol laid on her side with a sigh. While reclining, she spotted a large spotted lizard scurrying in their direction. “Hey, that's kind of neat!” she exclaimed, pointing at the lizard.
“That's a gila monster,” Flynn quietly informed her. “And they're venomous, so it's best to keep your distance.”
“Well, it's still neat-o,” Carol insisted. “And you know what? I think that's the most words you've ever said to me! I'm glad you're warming up to me, Flynn. That makes me happy.”
Despite her optimistic tone, Carol's heart was secretly heavy.
Being a cowboy really wasn't as glamorous as she had hoped.
Nine
If the Cole brothers were Nicky Gunn's favorite siblings, the Hershall brothers were his least favorite. He had played poker with them before, and every time he did, they looked like they wanted to murder him—because he won more than he lost. As menacing as they were, Nicky should have been frightened of them, but he wasn't. His bravado kept him calm.
The Hershall brothers were in their early forties, they looked like twins, and they smelled identical too. Very few of Busybee's residents had an odor that was especially pleasant, but the Hershall brothers were so sour, they could make eyes water with their stench. Ed Hershall had the meanest face Nicky had ever seen. His teeth were crooked and his breath was foul, and he had some of the fuzziest mutton chops in existence. Nicky rarely washed his hair, but Logan Hershall's shaggy mop was so greasy, it was as if water never touched it. He was the definition of unkempt. Their coats were riddled with holes—some in the shape of bullets—and their mouths were full of tobacco, which Ed spat on the floor next to Nicky's boots. When some of the chaw splattered on him, Nicky winced.
A grumble rattled Ed's throat as he studied his cards. The younger Hershall brother was somewhat transparent, so Nicky could tell he wasn't holding a decent hand.
“We need more whiskey!” demanded Logan, who had long since folded. “Where can we get some damn whiskey around here?”
He said it so loudly that one of The Hole's saloon girls came rushing over to fulfill his request. As soon as his glass was full, he swatted her on the rear, making her yip. Nicky felt sorry for her. No one deserved to be touched by a hand as mucky and calloused as Logan Hershall's. Nevertheless, the girl didn't seem especially distressed.
Nicky nervously stroked his sideburns as he waited to see if Ed would believe his bluff. When the grizzly man finally folded, Nicky had to suppress a whoop of victory. He somehow managed to win the round with the world's worst hand.
“You can celebrate now, boy.” Ed Hershall tapped his bulbous cigar against the table and snorted loudly. “As soon as you get comfortable, that's when your luck will turn.”
“Is that really your best taunt? It's kind of pitiful, if you ask me.” As he waited for Logan to deal the cards, Nicky arranged his coins into tidy stacks.
“Alright, then...” Ed leaned forward in his chair and tried again. “When you lose all of that money you're fiddling with, you'll go cryin' back to your mama. We're going to turn you into such a goddamn baby, you'll want to start suckling her tits again.”
“That's better, if not a little bit... creepy.” Nicky shuddered
at the thought. In an attempt to look suave, he leaned back, kicked up his feet, and crossed them on the tabletop. Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned. When his chair toppled backward, crashing against the floor, a few of the saloon girls giggled at him. As his cheeks turned several shades of red, Nicky hopped back to his feet and turned the chair upright.
“Damn, boy, you're making us all look bad!” complained Logan, who took such a long drag from his cigar, Nicky swore he saw smoke coming out of his eyes. “Can't you go sit somewhere else?”
“No. The boy ain't going anywhere,” Ed growled as he dragged the younger man back to his chair. “I needta win back some of this money.”
When Nicky realized his chair was wobbly, his lips flipped into a frown. He hoped he wouldn't be charged for ruining the saloon's furniture. While rocking back and forth in his moderately broken chair, Nicky raised his drink to his lips. An unexpected distraction made him dribble down the front of his shirt. The most beautiful woman in the world walked by, and she briefly met his gaze. His eyes followed her so long, he practically snapped his neck trying to get a glimpse of her.
Ed must have noticed her too, because he whistled through his dirty, cracked lips. “Foreign women! Aren't they somethin'?” The girl was such a beauty that Ed felt a strain in his breeches. “I'd like to dip into that myself!”
“I wonder if she can be bought,” Logan mused.
Nicky rapidly and emphatically shook his head at the thought. The Hole's foreign beauty was quite possibly the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he would have hated to see her touched by Hershall brother hands.
The girl must have distracted him more than he thought, because Nicky lost the next round. “Don't worry, Pat...” he whispered a promise to his brother. “I'll win the next one.” With renewed conviction, he leaned forward to collect his cards.
The Emperor's Bride (Belles & Bullets Book 6) Page 6