A Broken Outlaw Page 15

  When the bearded man removed the woman's undergarments, Flynn had seen enough.

  Taking a deep breath, he raised his rifle.

  Twenty One

  Because it was almost too late for the woman to survive the day with her dignity intact, Flynn had to act quickly. He raised his rifle, aimed, and shot her would-be rapist straight through the head. The element of surprise was lost; the Hershalls and their potential buyers scattered to cover.

  Flynn raced down the hillside and hid behind the Hershalls' motocarriage. The odds were against him—it was four against one, but he couldn't let the odds effect his concentration. Flynn sidled around the edge of the motocarriage and peered around the corner. He caught one of the Hershalls' buyers fleeing the scene, and because Flynn had no tolerance for men who would buy and sell women, he shot to kill. His bullet penetrated the man's back and went straight through his heart.

  The Hershalls cowered behind a large boulder, while their third buyer was hiding somewhere out of sight. When Flynn tried to search for him, he saw the three ladies struggling to free each other. It seemed to be working, because the ropes around Lettie's wrists were already loose.

  “Who the hell are you?” When Ed screamed, his voice echoed through the sky. “We've got guns, you know! We will shoot you!”

  “We should try to negotiate, you ass!” Flynn could barely hear Logan hissing at his brother. “We should offer him some money... maybe the bastard'll go away?”

  Flynn knew what he needed: superior position. After a quick reload of his rifle, he pulled himself on top of the motocarriage, hopped to his feet, and aimed at the Hershalls' boulder. When his first bullet went through Logan Hershall's skull, a chill riveted down Flynn's spine. He never expected to kill an outlaw more notorious than he was.

  “You bastard!” bellowed Ed, who raised his pistol to avenge his brother. “Now I'm going to kill you, and I'm sure as shit gonna enjoy doing it!”

  But his words were bluster, because Flynn shot him in the neck before Ed could return fire. While Flynn was distracted by the Hershalls', the last man fired a shot. When the bullet whizzed by his ear, Flynn leapt down from the motocarriage, returning to cover.

  The fired shot gave away the man's position. As he crept along the edge of the motocarriage, Flynn tried to guess where he was hiding. While peering around the corner, he saw something that made him gasp. Letitia Jordan was not only free, she had a revolver in her hand, and she was aiming at the Hershalls' last buyer.

  “Please!” the last man pleaded with them. “I never wanted any trouble and... a-and I never wanted to buy no girls, not really! If I give you all the money I've got on me, do you think you folks can let me go?”

  “No!” Lettie shrieked. “You're the lowest of the low! You don't deserve to live!”

  “Well, bitch... in that case...” The man suddenly popped out of cover and aimed at Lettie. When he raised his gun, Lettie was ready to fire back, but Flynn's trigger finger was faster than either of theirs. He shot the man straight through the head.

  Flynn unholstered a revolver and searched the area. The three girls had already untied themselves, the three buyers were dead, Logan was dead—only Ed Hershall was still alive. He was gripping the hole in his neck as blood squirted through his fingers. When he saw Flynn approach, he weakly tried to reach for his gun, but the young outlaw kicked it away before Ed's bloodstained fingers could grasp it.

  “Flynn Cole.” As Ed Hershall hissed the name, he looked down at the sticky red liquid that soaked his hand. “I never thought you'd be the one who'd kill me. Your brother, maybe... but never you.”

  “I guess you underestimated me.” Flynn pointed his weapon at Ed's shaking body. “A lot of people make that mistake.”

  “Logan Hershall... killed by a boy...” Ed's lips trembled as he frowned at his brother's corpse. “Ed Hershall... killed by a boy. Who could've predicted that?” He stared down the barrel of Flynn's revolver, and when he heard its hammer clicking into place, he started to cry. “I don't want to die. I don't. I really don't. Shit. Don't kill me, boy! What can I do to get you to--”

  Flynn's bullet fired before Ed could finish his plea. This time, Flynn shot him through the head. In an instant, it was over.

  When he turned in the direction of the women, Flynn's body jolted with surprise. Lettie's gun was pointed at him. “Are you good or bad?” she screamed the question. After the day she had, she was reluctant to trust anyone, even her savior.

  Flynn holstered his weapon, leaving himself unarmed. Holding up his hands, he took a step in Lettie's direction. “I'm one of the good guys. I helped you, didn't I?”

  “You did.” Nevertheless, her eyes narrowed mistrustfully. She'd been through too much to let her guard down easily.

  “I only ever wanted to help you,” Flynn assured her. “I'm not here to hurt anybody. In fact, if you put your trust in me, I'd be happy to take you someplace safe, out of the desert.” Flynn gestured in the direction of his motocarriage, where Jun was waiting for him. “I'm with a friend. A female friend. She's the sweetest girl in the world, so... as soon as you see her, you'll know I'm telling the truth.”

  “I think we should trust him.” Delilah gave her opinion in the softest possible voice. “He seems nice to me.”

  “I am nice.” As he agreed with Delilah, Flynn shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Mary, whose dress was torn by the Hershalls. Her entire body was convulsing with sobs, so he didn't try to speak to her. Instead, he quietly helped her to her feet.

  “Take me to this friend of yours. If she looks trustworthy, I'll lower this gun,” Lettie said. “Until then, I'm keeping this pointed at your back. It's a little difficult to trust anyone right now.”

  “Fair enough.” Flynn collected his rifle and sprinted over the hill. Reaching the summit, he motioned for the ladies to follow. When they caught up to him, he told them, “I knew the Hershalls.”

  Lettie's nose wrinkled with disgust. “Did you?”

  “I did. I've known them for years. I think they saw my brother as a rival, but they never paid much attention to me.” Flynn was surprised by how easily he conversed with them. “My friend Nicky always got himself mixed up with them, but I kept my distance. Logan and Ed were nasty pieces of work. Both of them.”

  “You can say that again,” agreed a snorting Lettie.

  As he made his way to the motocarriage he shared with Jun, Flynn's heart suffered a temporary paralysis. Haunting questions infected his thoughts. What if Jun was gone? What if Prince Feng caught up to her while he was rescuing the women? What if there was another tracking device implanted somewhere? What if--

  Jun suddenly burst from the motocarriage's interior, putting his fears to rest. She ran to Flynn's side and tossed her arms around him, squeezing as hard as she could.

  “Flynn! I heard gunshots! I was so worried! Are you alright? Did you get hurt? You're not hurt, are you?”

  “I'm fine.” Flynn started to wrap an arm around her, but his shyness held him back. “Are you alright?”

  Relief smoothed the lines on Jun's porcelain face. “Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?” When she turned her attention to the women behind Flynn, she saw Lettie lowering her gun. “Who are they?”

  “Apparently, Ed and Logan Hershall were capturing and selling women. I... put a stop to it.” Flynn blushed. Even though he was undeniably the hero of the day, he felt sheepish about bragging to Jun.

  “That's horrible!” Jun gasped. “Not the fact that you put a stop to it, but the fact that they were doing that at all.” Jun focused her attention on Delilah, who was only sixteen, and looked even younger. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want chocolate? I have chocolate!”

  Delilah answered with a timid nod, so Jun climbed into the motocarriage to retrieve the chocolate bar she bought during a supply run with Flynn. “It's been a hot day, so it might be a little melty,” Jun warned the girl.

  Lettie could feel her guard dropping as she li
stened to Jun fuss over Delilah. They seemed like decent people. At long last, she turned to her rescuer and properly expressed her gratitude. “Your name's Flynn, right? Thanks for saving us.”

  “It was my pleasure.” He offered an arm to Mary and helped her into the motocarriage, then he did the same for Delilah.

  “What you pulled off was really impressive, actually. There were five of them and one of you,” Lettie commended him. “Did you get lucky, or are you some kind of prodigy?”

  “Maybe a bit of both,” Flynn chuckled. “Anyway, if it's alright with the three of you, I'd like to take you to the nearest town... which is Gravestone, I believe.”

  “Good.” Lettie declined Flynn's arm and climbed into the carriage's interior on her own. “I left my boyfriend in Gravestone. I'm pretty sure he's panicking right now.”

  “Jun.” When he had her attention, Flynn asked, “Do you want to ride with the women, or do you want to ride in the driver's seat with me?”

  “With you.” After he risked his life, Jun had an inexplicable desire to be near him. She wanted to see his face and keep him close.

  “I'm glad. I prefer that.”

  Grunting, Jun climbed into the passenger's seat and waited for Flynn to join her. When he was seated beside her, she whined, “Please don't do anything reckless from now on. Please! You can't keep taking risks!”

  Flynn kept one hand on the wheel, while his other hand dragged through his hair. “But it always ends well.”

  “But... Flynn... you're all I have.” Jun shyly glanced down at her fidgeting fingers. When she thought about losing him, sadness swelled in her eyes. “You're the only reason I ever have a smile on my face. You're the only reason I get up in the morning. So... please.” Jun drew a deep, empowering breath before she reached for his hand. “Don't leave me again.”

  Twenty Two

  “We went for the small fish, but we landed the big fish instead.” Hu Lian whistled sharply as she stalked around Josiah's cell, where he was chained to the floor like a feral animal. “After we lost the little brother, I never imagined the older brother would fall into our laps.”

  “It's funny how that works,” added Vee, who was standing in the corner of the cell, quietly smoking a cigar.

  Raising an eyebrow, Josiah asked. “What do you mean? You had my brother?”

  “That's exactly what I mean.” Lian stopped pacing and leaned closer to Josiah's face. When she was inches away, a grin took her lips. “We're bounty hunters. We captured your brother. We were going to collect our reward, and then Vee let him get away—”

  “I did not let him get away!”

  “And then we couldn't find him again,” Lian finished. “But now you're here, so it seems we'll have our Cole brother payday after all.”

  “This one's worth even more,” added Vee, jabbing her cigar in Josiah's direction. “Lucky us.”

  Josiah's body was already aching. He'd been chained to the floor for hours, unsure of his fate, worried about Carol, while quietly cursing Patrick's name. If they survived, he owed his friend a thrashing. Patrick Amberley was out of jail for two days before he got himself locked up again. How could anyone be so stupid?

  “Why are there bounty hunters on Princess Isabella's airship?” Josiah asked. “This is the princess' ship, right?”

  “It is,” Lian confirmed, bowing her head in Vee's direction. “I'll let my girl answer the rest of that question.”

  A prisoner didn't deserve details, so Vee kept her explanation brief. “Isabella's a friend of mine. It's... a long story.”

  “Personally, I'm hoping that friendship is strong, because we want the princess to hand you over to us,” Lian said. “After all, we're the ones who captured you... and we're the one who'd benefit most from that price on your head.”

  “It's a lot of money,” Vee chimed in again.

  The cell door suddenly opened, allowing a rare sliver of light into the dark, cold prison. As soon as he saw the partially concealed face of Isabella's masked man, Josiah groaned. Somehow, he knew the man's presence didn't bode well for him.

  “Josiah Cole.” Tom Harriot's footsteps echoed as he prowled around his prisoner. “Ever since our encounter in Traitor's Gorge, I've been thinking about you a lot. You made a fool out of me, you know.”

  “And that means you're in trouble,” Vee warned him. “Try not to rearrange his face too much, Tommy. When we hand him over for our reward money, he needs to look like himself.”

  Ignoring Vee's request, Tom plowed a fist into Josiah's face. When the knuckles connected with his jaw, Josiah grunted. “I was in charge of protecting the princess. My Isabella,” Tom hissed. “But you knocked everyone out, including me. You made me look incapable. You made me a failure. And then you robbed her. How do you think I should punish you for that?”

  Josiah didn't reply. His lip curled defiantly as he stared at the floor.

  “Perhaps karma's punished you enough already... because I don't remember this.” Harriot lightly patted Josiah's stump. His mechanical arm—and the rest of his weapons—were confiscated by Isabella's guards.

  Tom chuckled as he taunted him. “Did you lose something, Josiah Cole? Something important? Something irreplaceable? An entire arm, maybe?”

  “Not the entire arm,” a smirking Josiah amended him. “Everything above the elbow is still there.”

  “Would you like me to correct that?” Harriot ripped his sword from its sheath and brought the tip to Josiah's shoulder. “Should I remove the rest of it? Should I make this stump even smaller? Would you be any less of a cocky asshole if I did?”

  “Uh... Tom?” Vee spoke up. “I, uh... I wouldn't do that. Isabella wouldn't be very happy with you.”

  Again, he ignored her. “Or maybe I should cut off the other arm?” Harriot shifted his blade to Josiah's remaining appendage. “What would life be like with a couple of stumps, I wonder? When I finish, you'll have to tell me what it's like!”

  “Tom!” Before he could make a cut, Vee leapt forward and lowered her friend's blade. “I'm not going to stand here and watch you slice someone up! You're not in Eversio anymore. You need to relax.”

  “Relax?” Harriot grabbed a fistful of Josiah's hair and yanked back his head. “You think I should relax? I finally find the man who took me down... the man who robbed Isabella... and you want me to relax? What would you have me do instead, Vee? Shake his hand? Congratulate him on a job well done? Thank him?” Tom's fist reconnected with Josiah's face—three times. As he pummeled him, he screamed, “I'm not going to do that!”

  “Tom! Tom Tom Tom Tom Tom!” Vee tried to restrain him, but he broke free and punched Josiah again. “If you don't behave yourself, I'm going to get Isabella! You know she wouldn't approve of this!”

  “I don't care!” Harriot kicked Josiah's groin, making his prisoner sputter with pain. “I'm going to give him what he deserves! He deserves this! He does! You know he deserves it!”

  To Lian, Vee whispered, “Keep an eye on him.” Then she left to search for the one person who could disarm the triggered rage of Thomas Harriot.

  “When I woke up with a dart in my neck, can you imagine how foolish I felt?” Harriot's eyes burned into Josiah's. “When I realized I wasn't able to protect her, do you have any idea how much I hated myself?”

  Josiah licked the blood from his lip and smiled at Tom. In an inappropriately calm voice, he asked, “What's with the mask?”

  Tom answered his question with a second kick. This time, he buried his boot in Josiah's stomach. After he punched him yet again, Lian had to speak up.

  “Could you stop hitting him? Please?” She cracked her knuckles as she made her request. “Like Vee said, if you keep hitting him, he'll be unrecognizable as himself. We don't want that.”

  Harriot defiantly punched him again.

  “Honestly, Tom... I don't want to have to hurt you,” Lian threatened him. “You're Vee's friend, so I'm trying to get along with you. I'm really trying. But I will stop you if I have to.” />
  Tom's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “I'd like to see you try.”

  Before they came to blows, the cell door opened, and a gasping Isabella swept into the room. When she saw Josiah's battered face and bloodstained collar, she roared, “Tom! How dare you!”

  Suddenly, Josiah's torturer looked like a chastised schoolboy. “But Isabella... he attacked you... what do you think I should--”

  “Don't.” Isabella ran to Josiah's side and removed his chains. After Tom's last brutal punch, he was wavering in and out of consciousness. “Don't make excuses for yourself, Tom. There is no excuse for this kind of thing!” Isabella gently wrapped Josiah's arm around her shoulders and tried to lift him from the ground, but she was very small, so Lian had to assist her. As soon as Josiah was on his feet, the women carried him to the door.

  “Isabella...” Tom sheepishly followed them out. “You're not really that angry with me, are you? You're not--”

  “Of course I'm angry!” Isabella barked at her fiance. “I didn't know you were still capable of this sort of... insanity. Sometimes, I feel like I don't know you at all!”

  “A firm hand is necessary sometimes!” Tom argued his case. “You have to teach someone a lesson. If you coddle people too much, they'll never feel remorse.”

  “Oh, is that right? So... what lesson were you trying to teach my brother when you cut off his finger?”

  That made Josiah snap back into consciousness, and he regained the use of his legs. If the princess' fiance cut off her brother's finger, it was a story he wanted to hear.

  “Are you really going to hold that against me, Isabella? I explained why I did that. If he ever showed up again, I didn't want to mistake him for Gemellus!” Tom chased her down the hall, desperate to plead his case. Isabella was the only person in the world he hated to disappoint. “Isabella... listen! I don't want you to be upset with me!”

  “I'm already upset.” Isabella turned into another jail, where Carol and Patrick were held. Rows of cells lined the walls, but most of them were empty. “You scare me, Tom. And if you don't mind, I'd rather not see you right now.”