Page 199 of New Storm Rising
“Yeah.” His fellow thugs nodded, smirking. “Let’s have some fun.”
“Indeed.” An even wider smile spread over my own face as I reached deeper into the folds of my dress. “Let’s.”
“Ha! You see, boys? She’s into it! Let’s get her!”
I narrowed my eyes, grasping my revolver. These bastards were about to find out why it was a really bad idea to go after an armed and prepared woma—
Crash!
The door behind me slammed open. A moment later, an Ambrose-shaped blur shot past me, a bent rifle clutched in his hands like a prehistoric club.
Thud!
“Aaaargh! No, don’t! We surren—nng!”
Thud! Wham! Thud!
Ah, well. Never mind, then.
Watching Mr Rikkard Ambrose…”vent” was quite an interesting experience. One that most definitely was not suitable for underage children. Which, suddenly, was a matter that seemed a whole lot more important to me than it might have been two days or so ago.
“Argargararrrrrr…”
Thud! Wham!
“Please, no! Have merc—”
Thud!
I cocked my head, curiously. Have what? Merchants? Mercenaries? Mr Ambrose probably had plenty of both. But by the looks of things, they wouldn’t be of much use to those poor thugs right at the moment.
A doctor would be much more suitable for their current needs.
Thud! Wham!
“Aaagh!”
Or a gravedigger.
Leaning against the wall, I pulled out some snacks previously purchased from a street vendor and settled in for the show. After roughly half an hour of Mr Rikkard Ambrose exercising vigorously, the groans and pleas slowly started to subside. Finally, I heard the thump of three unconscious bodies hitting the ground. I watched intently as Mr Rikkard Ambrose turned around. Or at least the man I was ninety percent sure was Rikkard Ambrose. I couldn’t be completely certain, because this man looked nothing like the stony statue I had married.
This man’s clothes were dishevelled, his breathing hard, and his eyes wild as a ravenous animal. In two long strides, he was in front of me and had enveloped me in his arms, crushing me to his chest with unrelenting force.
“Are you all right?!”
“Hey!” I squeezed out, prodding his side. “You can stop suffocating me now!”
In answer, all I got was silence. Well, that and an even tighter grip on me, as if I might vanish into thin air any moment now.
“Mnnfff…Mr Ambrose…please…”
I prodded his side again, this time eliciting a groan. Blinking in surprise, I glanced at my hand—only to find it coated in blood.
“Hey! You’re bleeding!”
“It’s only a scratch.”
“In what? Your carotid artery?”
