Searching for Anna, Jenifer Carll-Tong [cheapest way to read ebooks TXT] 📗
- Author: Jenifer Carll-Tong
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Parker laughed and pulled Phoebe's back tight against his chest.
"Come now, Sarge, surely you can see that you don't have the upper hand in this situation." While Parker's left arm held her shoulders immobilized against his chest, his right hand began moving up her side. "No, no you don't have the upper hand. Seems I have all the hands," he said, bringing his up to cup her right bosom.
Phoebe whimpered at his touch, which only seemed to please him. She squeezed her eyes shut as his hand moved, roughly fondling her breast. His hand slid from her breast toward the buttons of her blouse. He fumbled for a moment, then angrily ripped two buttons off and slid his hand inside to her other breast.
"Get your filthy hands off her."
Phoebe's eyes flew open at the rage in Will's voice. His eyes never leaving her assailant, Will stood rigid, every muscle seemingly ready to pounce, but Phoebe couldn't tell in what direction. His cat-like stance, poised and steady, gave her the impression that he was keenly aware of even the smallest movement around him. He boiled with anger, yet he controlled every muscle in his body.
"I have spent all these months being teased by this woman, just waiting for the time when all my work would pay off. And it will pay off, you mark my words. This little broad owes me, and before this night's up, I'll get what I'm owed."
"I said take your hands off her!" Will said, raising his voice.
"Drop your gun, and I'll at least let go of her chest."
Will was silent for a moment, then conceded and lowered his arm.
"I meant drop it to the ground."
"I'm not releasing my weapon until you release her."
"You don't get it! You aren't in control here – your uniform means nothing to us! You are just another man – one man – with one gun. You are no match for three armed men."
"I can take out at least one of you," Will quipped with a smirk.
Parker laughed, then leaned in to rub his cheek against Phoebe's.
"Probably, but I'm willing to bet that it won't be me," he said, kissing Phoebe on the cheek.
Will was silent. Phoebe watched him as Parker's statement settled in. Parker had the upper hand, and they all knew it.
'What now, Lord?' Will prayed.
He sized up the situation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man on the left – the largest of the three – slide his hand beneath his jacket. The man in the middle, who kept his hat pulled low over his face, started to do the same. Parker, although undoubtedly carrying a weapon, held Phoebe in front of him, blocking easy access to the gun. It wasn't impossible, though. He had to think quickly, because one of these men was going to be the first to shoot, and his best chance at survival – and Phoebe's – was if he were that man.
Parker was partially correct. The other two men were more likely to taste the lead from his weapon – first. But Will had no intention of letting any man walk away from this confrontation – least of all Parker. But he held Phoebe so close and kept his head close to hers. Will was a good shot, but Parker, or Phoebe for that matter, would only have to move slightly and… no, he couldn't chance it. If only she could somehow break away…
'Dear Jesus, I need a miracle.'
"I can see that reality is starting to sink in," Parker smiled smugly. "Here's how this is going to play out. You are going to drop your gun – to the ground. Then me and my friends here – including the beautiful Miss Albright – are going to walk gracefully into the moonlight to my waiting car. Do you understand?"
An unexplainable calm came over Will as he realized what he was going to do. A smile spread across his face.
Thank you, Lord.
"Your plan for a graceful exit will never work," Will stated matter-of-factly.
Parker laughed. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, because you've picked the wrong girl as hostage," Will answered, smirking. "Walking gracefully isn't one of her talents. She's much better suited at tripping and falling."
The look of outrage on Phoebe's face was obvious, even in the moonlight. But she was more than angry, Will could see. She was hurt. She was hurt because she thought Will was making fun of her in a time when her life was in danger. But he wasn't teasing. For the first time tonight, Will looked at her. His eyes were steady, locked with hers, willing her to understand what he meant. And somehow, she did. Slowly, her furrowed brows softened, and she nodded her head slightly.
Immediately, Will lifted his gun.
The instant she saw Will lift his gun, Phoebe let her legs collapse beneath her like a disobedient toddler. She felt the sleeve of her dress rip as her own weight pulled her out of Parker's grip. She heard gunfire as she dropped to the ground – four shots. Then silence.
Phoebe lay in a heap on the ground, hands over her head, crying. She heard nothing more, only her sobs in the stillness. She feared looking up, feared she would see Will, lying on the ground. She feared she would see the rum runners standing over his body.
She heard rustling. She had to get away before her captors grabbed her again. But before she could move, a hand grabbed hers.
"Phoebe, are you hurt? Please tell me you're ok," came Will's quiet, searching voice.
She looked up in shock. Quickly looking around, she saw three bodies lying in awkward positions on the ground around her. Their guns were no longer in their hands, but in Will's.
"It's ok," Will whispered as he looked into her eyes, concern for her still evident on his face.
"Oh Will!" she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck. He seemed to wince for a second, but instantly drew her close to him. They held each other, Phoebe still crying softly, Will burying his face in her hair. She could have stayed there forever, wrapped in his arms. She had never felt so safe in her entire life.
But then she felt it. A warmth on her arm. A wet warmth.
In the darkness, Phoebe instinctively felt for the blood. Will's shoulder was drenched with it.
"You've been shot!" she exclaimed.
"Just a flesh wound, I'm sure," he said. "When you dropped, I got two shots out on the first two men – Parker and the one in the middle. But the one on his right was able to get one in on me before I got him."
Will helped Phoebe to her feet with his good arm. She looked at the men on the ground.
"You shot them all?"
"Yes."
"Parker too?"
Will grunted. "He 'got what he was owed.'"
"And Rogers?"
Will stopped. "Rogers?"
Phoebe nodded slowly. "Will, one of them was Thomas Rogers."
Will let go of her hand. He slipped his boot under the body closest to the cabin and rolled him over.
"Rogers?" he said, shaking his head. "All of this time, it was him?"
Phoebe leaned around Will uncertainly. "Should we get the doctor?"
"No," Will said, leading her away from the bodies. "They are all dead. I made sure of it."
Phoebe gasped. Will grabbed her hand gently.
"I was aiming to kill, Phoebe. I wasn't going to give them any opportunity to hurt you further."
Phoebe shuddered at the thought of what might have happened had he, had Will not… she couldn't bear the thought.
"We need to get back to town, so the doc can tend to this wound. We can alert the other officers as to the location of the bodies."
Will led Phoebe to his horse. He emptied the shells of the men's guns onto the ground then placed them in his saddle bag.
"Should we take one of the cars? Wouldn't they be faster?"
"Yes, if I hadn't punctured the tires. I wanted to make sure they couldn't get away with you."
With a wince, he helped her onto his horse,
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