Free Wolf Bride by T. S. Joyce Page B

“I have to take a piss. Grab some jerky out of your saddle bag so we can eat on the go.”
    Matthew’s long blond hair was plastered to his back under a cowboy hat and he turned with a vicious grin. “You thought you was home free and now look at you.” His eyes traveled the length of my exposed body as he fished around for their breakfast.
    My tied hands lay conveniently in front of my thighs, but my breasts puckered against the wet material with nothing to hide them. I lifted my chin defiantly. Nothing else in my life had broken me, and I’d be damned if Matthew Streider would be the one to do it in my last few breaths.
    Ricky stood in front of me and undid his belt buckle. The corner of his mouth turned up in the most evil smile I’d ever seen, and he pulled out his filthy cock and began relieving his bladder on my knees. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of running. Instead I spat in his face.
    The look of hellish fury made my insides turn to ice, but I kept my face carefully still. He wiped his face slowly and then lifted his fist. It would be my last blow and I started to close my eyes with the acceptance.
    Luke came down like a ferocious hellion, moving so fast it defied what a man should be able to do. The flash of green in his eyes held only focus and unbridled savagery. He jumped on Ricky’s back as I scrambled out of the way, then slit his throat neatly. I stared in wide-eyed bewilderment as my tormentor’s neck split open and blood gurgled forth. Luke shoved his face in the dirt and swung his gaze to Matthew.
    No time to mount a horse, he was already running through the trees. Luke flipped his long hunting knife dexterously and threw it with such strength, it had a sound to it. Over and over the knife flipped until it was lodged in Matthew’s hand, which was thus pinned to a large tree. Ricky gulped at air like a drowning trout and Luke slowly stalked the other flailing tracker. Matthew grunted in pain and tried desperately to dislodge the bloodied knife. His movement became frantic as Luke approached.
    “Please,” he begged.
    “Shut up,” Luke growled. “You’re so brave you steal a woman in the night and drag her behind a horse? The least you can do is die well.” He put his foot against the tree and yanked the knife out.
    Matthew hadn’t a chance to run because Luke’s hand was around his throat and dragging him, gasping, back to me. He unbuckled the man’s gun belt and tossed it over the saddle of the horse I was tied to and threw him in the mud beneath me.
    Something in the tone of Luke’s voice raised the hair on the nape of my neck. “It’s time for your first shooting lesson. This man is yours to kill. You can give retribution for your abuses or you can charge me with carrying it out. Either way, you’ll hold a gun to his head and make the decision who pulls the trigger.”
    He dragged his knife across the leg of his pants, leaving two smears of crimson, then cut the ropes that bound my wrists in one confident motion without nicking my chafed skin. My arms sagged to my sides and I swallowed a sob at the relief.
    Luke looked like an avenging angel in his damp duster and hat and as he moved his jacket aside, he pulled a dry pistol and handed it to me, grip first. He pointed to the hammer but I shook my head.
    “This ain’t my first shooting lesson.”
    His gaze collided with mine and surprise pooled in the emerald depths. He nodded and gave me some room. Pulling the hammer back was an effort because of my injured wrists but I kept my face straight and pointed the barrel down at Matthew’s forehead.
    “You thought you was home free, and now look at you,” I said in a trembling voice, repeating his calloused words.
    The sniveling man began to cry, and his words were no longer understandable. He reeked of urine and fear.
    “She’ll send more people,” I said to Luke. “The woman who’s after me will keep sending them until I’m dead or back at the brothel.”
    Silence