Page 183 of New Storm Rising
In answer, all Creed did was point at the wall.
The sheriff snorted. “I’m not going to stand against the wall on the order of some lowly—”
His words abruptly cut off and his eyes widened. Apparently, he had just noticed the poster hanging on the aforementioned wall showing a handsome face with large, bold letters above it:
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE
Ellard Simeon Creed
Reward: $215,000
All colour draining from his face, the sheriff stumbled a step backwards—then quickly moved over to the wall and plastered himself against it.
“Smart guy! Now the rest of you!”
Hurriedly, everyone followed the sheriff’s example, until all of them were lined up against the wall: Mr Ambrose, his men, a fuming Marshal Angleton and various deputies. Only I and the other desperados remained in the centre of the yard.
Crap, crap, crap! Mr Rikkard Ambrose, what did you get me into? Next time you get a brilliant idea like this, I’m gonna take it and ram it up the place where you shit gold!
And you know what the worst thing was? The way the bloody son of a bachelor’s face didn’t even twitch once! Instead, it stayed cold and unmoving, and utterly emotionless! He didn’t even glance my way! He was my husband, dammit! He was supposed to rescue me from these kinds of situations! Even if I would smack him afterwards for treating me like a damsel in distress, he was at least supposed totry!
Meeting his gaze, I tried to gesture with my one free hand, plead with my eyes, do anything and everything to try and convey the message.
His response was to cock his head about half a millimetre.
If I somehow survive this, I’m going to murder him.
But before that, I was going to have to kill the slimeball who was currently jabbing his gun into my back. Slowly, imperceptibly slowly, I moved my one free hand towards the place where, apparently unnoticed by anyone, my loaded revolver still hung, just waiting to be drawn and—
“Nuh-ah.” A hand closed around my wrist, stopping me dead. With a mocking smirk, Creed shook his head at me. “Don’t even think about it.”
Dammit!
Inwardly cursing in at least half a dozen languages, I let go of my revolver and, with a clatter, it dropped to the cobblestones.
“Very good. Now come along.” With a jerk, he sent me stumbling backwards and started dragging me towards the gate that led out of the courtyard. “Everyone, gather round!”
Without hesitation, the desperados did as ordered. Sarge, Diego, Brass, Wolf and the others surrounded their boss.
“What now, boss?” Sarge growled.
“Now?” Creed smiled. “Now we’re going to take care of these gentlemen and find the bank in this town. I very much look forward to seeing my new home. Sarge, Diego, Wolf, go dispose of—”
He was interrupted by a metallic click directly behind him.
“Sorry, boss,” I heard a gruff voice from the same direction. “That ain’t gonna happen.”
For a moment, everyone was frozen at this turn of events. Everyone. Me. Creed. The marshal. The sheriff. Everyone, except…
Mr Rikkard Ambrose leisurely dusted an invisible dust mote of his precious, mint-condition, ten-year-old tailcoat.
Oh boy.
Oh boy, he didn’t. If this was part ofhisplan, ifhehad known this was going to happen this entire time…
I was going to kill him! Or kiss him! Or both, in no particular order! Hm…I probably would have to get him into a bedroom either way. And then I could break out some of the utensils Amy gifted me for my last birthday, and—
My important contemplations were abruptly cut off when the world unfroze and finally reacted to the new turn of events.
