Page 92 of New Storm Rising
My mouth curled up into a wicked grin. “I’d love to.”
***
“Good riddance to bad rubbish!” Sneering, Gallagher spat on the ground, the hooves of his horse stomping the last crumbled remnants of the shed that used to cover the entrance to the mine into the dust.
De Ravera came cantering over, sitting atop a sleek, black Arabian. His gaze swept over the remnants of what had once been buildings. In the distance, the herd of cows, its job accomplished, was being driven over to the river.
“Is it done?”
“Now, Señor De Ravera, you know I cannot give out information about law enforcement activities to a private individual.” Gallagher smiled. “But if you were someone official, such as the mayor for instance, I would tell you that everything went perfectly.”
“Excellent!”
“Shall I bring the cattle back to their owners?”
“To what end?” De Ravera turned his horse around. “Hungry and desperate people are far more malleable and easier to manipulate san well-fed ones. Drive sem out of town and shoot sem. It will be a lesson to sose fools. Sey dare to come and work for my enemies? Show sem what it means to oppose Francisco Enrico Ronaldo Damian De Ravera!”
“Yes, Sir!”
***
Jack bent down to inspect his trap. This was the twelfth one he had checked so far. Maybe he’d get lucky this time…
Apparently not.
Dang!
Well, maybe the thirteenth time he’d get lucky.
Yeah, right.
Reaching out, he tried to feel his way in the dark. Hell! He shouldn’t have gone into the forest this late. But if it were still daylight, those damn Spaniards’ thugs would still be out and about. Nobody would be allowed to enter “their” forest.
Grumbling, he took a step forward, searching for the next trap he’d set, and—
Swish!
Oh hell.
“Aaaaaaagh!”
Suddenly, Jack found himself dangling several feet above the ground. He had always been proud of the amazing rabbit traps he’d laid. Now he made a mental note to maybe not make them quite so amazing. As in, for example, only fit for darn rabbits!
Cursing under his breath, he reached up to undo the knots keeping his leg trapped and—
—and flopped down again.
“Goddamn blasted knots! Why the hell did I tie you so tight? Why—”
Thud!
“Oww!”
Groaning, Jack rolled over on the ground, rubbing his back. This wasnotgoing as planned. He should really be getting back to his wife. She was probably feeling very alone right now. And, most likely, his own bed would be a lot more comfortable than the ground.
And yet…
Going back to her without anything to offer? Watching as she smiled at him gently, telling him it’s all right, trying oh-so-hard not to let the hunger show in her eyes?
