Free Katy Run Away by Maren Smith Page A

about him hinted toward amusement. “This whole time I’ve been calling you ‘madame’, I had no idea I was so close to the truth. Is that why you can’t go home? Afraid to let mommy and daddy see what their little girl has become?”
    A rush of heat flared through Katy’s face. Her palm itched but she didn’t slap him. She drew herself stiffly upright. “Do you want my money or not?”
    If anything, his eyes hardened, though he never lost that twist of a smile. “Do you care at all about that man in the coach?”
    The question knocked Katy a little off balance. Losing some of her haughtiness, she glanced back at the coach over her shoulder. Where they were standing, she couldn’t see Cal and he wouldn’t be able to see her either. That made her a little nervous, but there was nothing she could do to change any of this. She looked to the leader of the bandits again. “He…he’s an old friend.”
    It was something of a surprise to her to realize, in spite of everything—his heavy-handed tendencies, the spankings—she did think of him that way.
    The bandit took a step toward her. “Old is the best kind of friend there is. They’ve been around long enough to see us at our worst, our most irrational, our ugliest, basest selves. When they’ve seen all that and still hang around, they become something more than just a friend. They become worth our protection and respect. So, do your old friend a favor, hm? Don’t scream.”
    The fine hairs prickling along the back of her neck, Katy shifted a half-step backwards. “D-don’t—”
    The bandit grabbed her arm, yanking her around even as he swept her feet out from under her and knocked her flat on her belly to the hard ground. The impact knocked the wind right out of her. Her involuntary gasp for air sucked dirt into her mouth and became an instant coughing, hacking wheeze. She barely felt it when the bandit dropped on top of her, at least not until she felt the jerk as he wrenched the back of her skirts up to her waist and his knees wedged in between her legs, forcing them apart.
    She threw herself into a frenzy of wild arching and bucking, but he clamped his hand against the side of her head, pinning her ruthlessly to the ground. She slapped back with one hand, but he caught it and held it trapped behind her back. She wore herself out kicking, struggling, fighting to roll over, but in the end, she was left pinioned in the dust, panting and scared and unable to move to any effective degree.
    “Katy!” The stage rocked as Cal shifted on the seat, ignoring the guns aimed at him in preference of finding her via the only options available to him. “Katy, are you all right?”
    A hot breath brushed her dusty cheek. Leaning down, all but lying down on top of her, the leader of the bandits murmured just behind her ear, “Soothe his fears, Madame Pope. Be a friend. Tell him you’re fine. Now. Before he attempts racing to your rescue and I have to kill the poor bastard.”
    Shaking, Katy willed her voice to reflect a steadiness and calm she was far from feeling. “I’m f-fine,” she called, then had to swallow hard just to keep back the slew of acidic insults that flooded her mouth when the bandit on her back gently patted her head.
    “I have a baby sister just like you,” he said, making himself comfortable on top of her. His fingers idly stroked her hair. “Pretty. Pampered. With two God-fearing parents and seven older brothers to watch over her, all so overprotective that her only chance for marriage will be the one that comes with the veil and vows of a nun. Like you, she speaks her mind every chance she gets because she has no idea how the world really works.” He grunted, speculative. Stroking her hair one last time, he then fisted his hands in her tangle of curls and forced her head up off the ground so that he could see her face. “What exactly did you think was going to happen when you so recklessly offered to accompany us, hm? Did you really think we