Intimate 02 - Intimate Surrender (15 page)

He looked anything
but
a vicar.

She didn’t know whether to feel relief or collapse from fear. Rafe wasn’t a match for Skinner and his men.

“You heard me,” Rafe repeated.

There was a threatening tone to the voice, and Skinner turned to face the stranger who’d issued the warning. “If it isn’t Genevieve’s knight in shining armor.”

Skinner dropped his hand from her bodice and took a step away from her. “Have you come to save your lady again?”

“Tell your men to let her go.”

“And if I don’t?”

Rafe lifted his hand and pointed a pistol at Skinner. “You’ll probably regret it.”

Hannah took a moment’s pleasure in seeing Skinner’s eyes widen. Her pleasure didn’t last long.

“This is the third time you’ve crossed me,” Skinner said. “Most men don’t live long after they cross me the first time. I think you’re long overdue for a lesson.”

“Let her go,” Rafe repeated.

“Or you’ll—?”

Rafe fired his pistol, and his bullet struck the cobblestones at Skinner’s feet. Skinner jumped back.

“You’ll pay for this,” Skinner growled, “and I’ll enjoy seeing you suffer.” He slowly signaled his men to release her.

Hannah felt the confining grasp loosen around her arms and experienced an immense sense of relief. The moment she was free, she rushed to Rafe’s side.

“Go to your carriage,” he ordered.

She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want him to face Skinner and his men alone.

She looked down at Humphrey, still lying on the cobblestones, and considered her options. She didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t leave him. He’d never escape alive.

She shook her head and waited to see what he intended to do next. She knew she’d receive the full extent of his fury as soon as they were alone, and she’d already decided she’d let him get his anger out of his system. Besides, she deserved it. Coming here had been a mistake. Dalia had warned her that this might be a trap, but she was too stubborn to listen.

“Then go check on Humphrey,” he said when he realized she wouldn’t leave him.

That she would do. She nodded and stepped to where Humphrey lay.

“Take your men and get out of here, Skinner,” Rafe ordered.

Hannah knelt beside Humphrey and breathed her first sigh of relief. It was almost over. As soon as Skinner and his men were gone, they could take Humphrey home and this would be over.

She lifted her gaze, expecting to see Skinner and his men slink away. But that wasn’t what was happening. Instead of leaving, Skinner stood where he was. The malicious
grin on his face broadened, and his arrogant demeanor became more apparent.

A wave of fear washed over her. Something was wrong.

“Stand up, Genevieve,” Skinner said. “I don’t want you to miss this.”

Confusion seeped into every pore. She glanced at Rafe. A frown covered his face as if he realized something was terribly wrong. His gaze darted from Skinner to each of the men with him, then back to Skinner.

“Stand up,” Skinner repeated.

She slowly rose to her feet.

Suddenly, as if giving a silent order, Skinner shifted his gaze to a figure in the shadows behind them and gave a curt nod.

Hannah turned to where he indicated and saw the woman Maude raise her arm. She pointed a pistol at the center of Rafe’s back and fired.

Before Hannah could shout a warning, Rafe jerked forward. His expression was one of pained surprise. The gun in his hand clattered to the ground, and the men with Skinner charged toward him.

“No!”

Hannah tried to reach Rafe first, but Skinner grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

“Now you’ll see what happens when you interfere in my business.”

Two of the men held Rafe while a third man stepped in front of him. With a leering grin on his face, the man pulled back his arm and slammed his doubled fist into Rafe’s gut.

Rafe groaned in pain.

“No! He’s not the one you want, Skinner. I am. Do what you want with me, but leave him alone!”

Rafe struggled as much as his wound would allow him to, but the man in front of Rafe pulled his arm back again and pummeled his fist into Rafe’s jaw. With a loud groan, Rafe’s head snapped to the side and blood poured from his nose and mouth.

Hannah attempted to free herself, but Skinner’s grasp was too firm. “Stop! He’s had enough!”

Skinner laughed. “You should have thought of that before you interfered again. I told you you’d regret sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He nodded and the man in front of Rafe hit him again. Then again.

“Enough!” Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded for Skinner to tell his man to stop. But her entreaties were met with Skinner’s ribald laughter.

With each blow, more color faded from Rafe’s face. Blood streamed from his mouth and nose and the cuts on his face. His legs were limp beneath him. All that kept him from falling to the ground were the two men holding him. And still the beating continued.

“Stop!” Hannah pleaded, begging Skinner to call off his man. But he didn’t. The beating continued until Hannah thought she would become ill.

“You want him dead?” the man beating Rafe asked after several minutes. “He’s close to it.”

“You decide, Genevieve,” Skinner said. “He probably won’t live anyway. You want George here to put him out of his misery?”

“No! Stop!”

“George will when you promise we’ll never see you or your girls down here again.”

“I’ll stop!” Hannah cried out through the tears that streamed down her face. “I’ll stop!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

A commotion caused Skinner to pause. One of his men rushed toward him.

“There’s a group of men coming. One of them looks like Frisk.”

“What the hell,” Skinner said. He turned back to where Rafe hung limp between the two men still holding him. “Let him go,” Skinner ordered.

The two men holding Rafe released him, and he crumpled to the ground. Only then did Hannah see the large bloodstain that darkened his jacket.

She twisted out of Skinner’s arms, and this time he released her.

Hannah rushed to Rafe’s side and sank to her knees beside him. Bruises were already darkening on his face, and some of the blood was already dry. He was hurt badly—
very
badly.

“If I ever see you down here again,” Skinner barked, “I’ll go after your girls next. It won’t be safe for them to leave the house. You understand?”

Hannah nodded, but only a small part of her mind heard what Skinner said. How could she care about anything except getting Rafe home—if he survived that long.

Hannah heard the pounding of footsteps behind her but didn’t look to see who was coming. All that concerned her was Rafe and how badly he was hurt.

“Miss Genevieve?” a voice said from over her. “Miss Genevieve?” it repeated when she didn’t answer.

Hannah slowly lifted her gaze to where Converse stood beside her.

“We have to leave here,” he said when he hunkered down near her.

“I don’t think we should move him,” she said, wiping some of the blood from Rafe’s face. “He’s—He’s been shot. And they beat him.”

“That’s why we need to get him to a doctor, Miss Genevieve. He needs to be looked after.”

Hannah looked at Rafe’s battered face resting in her lap. She cupped her hand to his cheek and let the tears fall.

This was her fault. She should have realized this was a trap. She should have brought more men with her. She should have known that Rafe wouldn’t leave her. She should have known that he would stay close to protect her.

She thought of the inscription on the watch he carried.
I
N ALL THINGS, BE
NOBLE.

It was suddenly important that she make sure his watch was still in his pocket. That he hadn’t lost it while Skinner’s men were beating him.

She searched the pocket in his jacket until she felt the lump that was his watch. With trembling fingers she reached inside and lifted it out. It was safe. It hadn’t been harmed in the scuffle.

“There’s a wagon waiting, Miss Genevieve.”

Hannah nodded. She knew Rafe needed to be moved. She knew he needed to get to a doctor fast. But he was alive now, and she was terrified that he wouldn’t survive the trip to Madam Genevieve’s.

“Is Humphrey all right?” she asked.

“I’m right here, Miss Genevieve. Let me help you.”

Hannah carefully lifted Rafe’s head from her lap and gently placed it on the cold, hard street. When she looked up, Humphrey stood with his arm outstretched. She grasped his fingers and rose to her feet.

“Be careful with him,” she said when a group of men picked Rafe up and placed him on a long board.

“We will, miss,” one of the men said as they rushed Rafe to the wagon.

Humphrey helped her into the back of the wagon, then sat down beside her. When they slid Rafe into the wagon bed, she nestled his head on her lap again and held him tightly.

“How did these men get here?” she asked after the horses moved forward.

“Your friend sent Converse for help when he saw what was happening. Converse went to Frisk, and he came with his men.”

Hannah touched Rafe’s swollen face, then placed her hand atop his chest. She needed to make sure he was still breathing. She needed to know that he was still alive.

How had her life gotten to this point? What was she going to do with Rafe when he healed?

How was she going to survive if he didn’t?

She couldn’t allow herself to think about that now. She didn’t want to imagine a world that didn’t have Rafe in it. She didn’t want to imagine her life without Rafe in it.

Someone had placed a blanket over Rafe, and Hannah tucked it around him as the wagon rumbled through the streets.

“We’re almost home, Miss Genevieve,” Humphrey said when the wagon turned a familiar corner.

“Send someone for a doctor right away, Humphrey.”

“I will. Your friend will get the help he needs in no time.”

Hannah felt her hand lift slightly with Rafe’s shallow breathing and felt a sense of relief that weakened her entire body.

The wagon stopped at the back entrance to Madam Genevieve’s, and several of the girls, along with Dalia, rushed out to meet them.

“Are you all right?” Dalia said, taking Hannah in her arms the minute her feet hit the ground.

“I’m fine. But Rafe’s not.”

Hannah watched the men take him from the back of the wagon and carry him into the bordello.

Dalia wrapped her arm around Hannah’s waist, and they followed the men carrying Rafe. “The doctor’s on his way,” Dalia said.

Hannah nodded, then slowly climbed the stairs as they carried Rafe up to a room. They were met by all the girls who worked at Madam Genevieve’s.

“What can we do?” Delores asked.

“Water. We’ll need water and blankets and lots of cloths. And someone wait for the doctor. Bring him right up when he comes.”

Without a word, the girls rushed to get the items Hannah had asked for.

Hannah hurried into the room. Rafe was on the bed, and Humphrey and Converse were removing his clothes. To move him as little as possible, they were cutting the material from his body. When they finished, they pulled a cover up over him.

Hannah rinsed a cloth in some water and dabbed at his bruised and swollen face. He’d been hurt because of her. He’d risked his life to save her.

How could she ever repay him?

She reached for his hand and nestled it in her own. And she did something she hadn’t done in half a lifetime.

She prayed.

T
he door to Rafe’s room opened, and Dalia stepped inside. “How is he today?” she whispered.

Hannah looked at the bed and blinked to keep the tears at bay. She’d shed more tears in the last three days than in her entire lifetime. “He’s still unconscious.”

Dalia walked to Hannah’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think that’s a blessing,” she said. “The longer he sleeps, the less pain he’ll remember and the more he’ll have healed by the time he wakes.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself. But…what if he never wakes? I’ve heard of that happening. There was a man who made his living in the ring. He was hit so hard he—”