Page 253 of Naughty Nelle

Winnie and Elz rush to my aid. Elz calls out to Hook for help. He ignores her. He’s too busy drowning himself in another bottle of rum.

Elz fights back tears. The poor girl! I despise the swine more than ever.

“Come on, Elz. Let’s get The Prince into your coach and take him home,” I say, surprised I can still think straight. Or think at all.

Winnie and Elz each take a leg while I take his arms. On Winnie’s count of three, we lift him up.

“He must weigh a ton!” grunts Winnie.

“He doesn’t look like he weighs that much,” says Elz. “What do you think, Jane?

I want to smack her. Who cares! All I care about is getting him home.

Somehow, we manage to carry him out the door. There’s only one “little” problem: Elz’s coach is no longer parked outside the tavern. It’s gone!

“Read that!” says Winnie, pointing straight ahead at a road sign.

TOW AWAY ZONE

PARK AT YOUR OWN RISK!

We silently read it together. Winnie and I shoot Elz a scathing look that reads something like: We’re going to kill you even if you’re our best friend.

Elz shrivels with guilt. “That sign must be brand new,” she squeaks meekly. “I’ve parked here dozens of times.”

We are so screwed. Now what are we going to do? Maybe we should toss The Prince’s body into the gutter and make a run for it.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a handsome white horse parked just outside the tow-away zone. I recognize the animal instantly. It’s Gallant’s steed. What good luck! We’ll get him on the horse and send them both home.

Using all the strength we have left, we hoist up The Prince and slide him over the saddle. His arms and legs dangle lifelessly over the beast’s flanks. The horse doesn’t mind.

“Beat it, horsey!” I give the animal a slap on his rear. “Go home!” I don’t think the horse understands me. He doesn’t budge. Damn it! I wish I knew the horse’s name. Maybe that would help.

There’s only one solution. I’m going to have to ride the horse and take The Prince home. While I’ve ridden a few times, I’m not what you would call an experienced equestrian. Coupled with the fact that I’ve had a couple of beers or three or four or more, this is not going to be fun. Oh, and did I mention, I have no idea where we are? Let’s hope the horse will know the way back to the castle since Gallant mentioned he’s been here before.

“What about you guys?” I ask Winnie and Elz.

“Don’t worry about us,” says Winnie with her usual optimism. “We’ll figure out a way home.”

“Maybe I can get someone to take us to the local impound,” chimes in Elz. “It’ll be easy to spot my coach.”

Winnie and I roll our eyes. Remind me never to come back here.

Except for the fact that my inner thighs are killing me, the ride back to the castle goes smoothly. Lucky for me, the steed indeed knows his way and gallops confidently across the dark countryside. I’m just nervous that The Prince, who’s draped over the saddle in front of me, will fall off. Or that I will in my tipsy state.

I let out a big sigh of relief (and so do my thighs) when we at last reach the gated castle. Gallant is still out cold. The guardsmen let us in without saying a word. It’s as though they’ve seen The Prince like this before.

I lead the horse to the front entrance. So far, so good. Suddenly, something spooks the animal. A snake! Hissing, it slithers across the cobblestone path. The steed rears up, catapulting us to the ground.

It takes me a minute to come to my senses. I’m straddled on top of The Prince, his torso rising and falling beneath me. With every breath he takes, his taut chest presses deeper into my ribs. Even in this lifeless state, he’s so strong. So powerful. I gaze at his moonlit face. The blow he received from Hook is beginning to swell, but other than that, he looks so peaceful. And so handsome. I resist the urge to run my fingers over his fine features.

In the distant meadow, the horse is grazing. “Get your ass back here, horsey!” I shout, staggering to my feet.

The animal trots off. It doesn’t really matter because there’s no way I could have gotten The Prince back up on it by myself.

Okay. So, now what am I going to do? I can’t leave him here. I mean, a wild beast could come along and eat him alive. Or a storm could erupt, and he could drown or get struck by lightning. Or that snake could come back and bite him. Poor Calla would never get over it if he died just like her mother.

Think! Think!The problem is I’m exhausted and have had way too much to drink. I can’t think. Luckily, the obvious comes to me. I take hold of The Prince’s muscular arms and drag him face up to the castle entrance. Cripes! He is heavy!

---