Page 95 of Robin and Marian
“No!” She screamed and snatched at his bare leg. He pushed her away with his foot, annoyed, and took careful aim at the tiny receding figure. Marian wrenched her horrified gaze away and did the only thing she could think of doing—she bit his leg. Her teeth slid past the grease paint, but it was worth it when she heard Guy’s breath suck in, followed by the sound of the arrow flying off into the tall grass past the beach.
Guy kicked her away, catching her in the ear. Marian rolled through the pebbles and scrambled to her feet to run at him when he tried to shoot at Midge again. She jumped on his back this time, beating at him and clawing at his painted face until he roared out and slammed her down hard against the float on her back. It knocked the breath out of her.
“Shhh,” he said. “Shhh.” He was suddenly at her side and closing a strong hand over her nose and mouth. She couldn’t breathe. Panic overcame her and she struggled against his hold, her bulging eyes searching his for mercy. “No, no, no,” he said. Her hands turned weak against his and her chest lurched involuntarily. His gaze traveled over her like controlling her breathing was fascinating, before he released her. Immediately she choked for breath, strangling over her own lungs. Her ribs ached.
“It’s a good thing I’m not Robin,” he said. “I could’ve killed you.”
She’d barely gotten in enough air before she noticed him heave the float out onto the lake’s placid surface with a broad green shoulder—and with her on it! He jumped in beside her, making the float bob in the water at his weight. “We’ll wait here,” he said, “just until it’s safe to return.”
He’d tried to kill Richard’s son and had kidnapped her. Whether he was a lunatic or a mastermind dripping with sarcasm, it would never be “safe” for him to return. He pulled a phone from the pocket of his quiver of arrows, smiling down at her as he made his call. “Alan.” He sounded surprisingly clear. “Midge is coming your way. He saw everything. Make it look like Robin did it.”
Did he hate Robin so much?Did he hate her?She couldn’t understand; the aching in her head distorted her thoughts. Why make this so complicated, like she was just the piece in a game—but thisdidn’tfeel like a game. All the plans she had for her future were slipping away—a life with Robin, the laughter of little children—never to be realized. Her head drooped down onto the deck and a tear slid down the side of her throbbing temple, mingling with paint and mud and pain.
Her brain was too fuzzy to grasp even half of what was happening, but one thing felt crystal clear—Guy was going to kill her.
Chapter 25
Robin ran through the carnival tents before it dawned on him how unrealistic finding Guy in this crowd would be. He had no idea the amount of festivalgoers they’d be dealing with. Soon they decided to cover more area by splitting up. Tuck went one way and Robin the other. How had Alan caught sight of both Guy and the sheriff on the way to the Blooming Tree? He was either the luckiest man alive or…
He slowed down and tried to call Alan and got no answer. Next he tried Scarlett and there was nothing. That could’ve been since they were together and possibly caught up in the joy of being together—a revolting thought—but when he tried Marian and got a no-signal message, his heart lurched. Switching directions, he beat a trail to the dock. He let Tuck know where he was going… with absolutely no response. No surprise—he paid more attention to other people’s phones than his own.
The closer he came to the dock, the more he realized how impossible it would’ve been for Alan to see the sheriff on the rocky beach, and his throat tightened. It was deserted. Anything could’ve happened to Marian and Midge down there. He hurried, calling out, “Marian? Midge?”
“Robin!” Midge ran up the embankment, swinging his arms. “He took her. He took her!”
“Who did?” Though he had a pretty good idea. His heart felt like it was in his throat.
“Guy! He hit her and threw her on the float. He was going to shoot me!”
Robin could barely see the ground in front of him; his breathing had turned stilted. Guy had hit Marian? Without another word, he rushed headlong down to the dock.
“Wait!” Midge shouted after him. “You’ll need a weapon. He’s got a weapon! Take this!”
Midge held up a compound bow. Really? Were they in the middle of a battle in the sixteenth century? His uncle had already been gathering arrows from the beach—Robin wasn’t sure where those had come from either. “I couldn’t find you so I took it from the weaponry booth!”
Was his uncle going to challenge Guy to another archery competition? “You realize I’m wearing a cast, right?”
“That didn’t stop you before!”
How long have they been gone?” Robin asked.
“I don’t know. Ten minutes?”
Ten minutes? They’d only been out here for fifteen or twenty—Guy had taken her as soon as she’d gotten here. Alan had done this on purpose! “Midge,” he said. “I need you to find the sheriff. Tell him to get to Scarlett. I think Alan might…”
“Kill her,” Midge whispered.
“I don’t know. Just tell him what happened!”
Midge nodded and sprinted away.
Robin tried calling 911 and got nothing, like someone had cut the lines down at the station. His only hope was that the sheriff might find him with his tracker. And that wouldn’t save anyone. His body felt heavy with dread.
He saw no sign of the float on the water, but he knew that the current from the lake would join with the water from the creeks in Sherwood Forest and eventually end at the sawmill. He’d never catch them if he took another float. Guy was half-crazed to take Marian on one, like he fancied they were going on a Huckleberry Finn adventure. He searched the dock for a speed boat, and failing that, a Jet Ski. He couldn’t find anything. Did Guy not like water sports?
Going to the boathouse next, Robin broke open the lock and spied the Jet Skis that they had used on Raspberry Lake years before. Hoping they still worked, he filled the nearest with gasoline and dragged it out into the water, struggling with it one-handed. He straddled the seat and slid the bow over his shoulder, having no idea what he was up against as he sped the way that he hoped Guy would’ve taken Marian.
Marian dragged herself to her elbows to sit upright on the float before pulling up her knees. She wrapped her arms around her muddy skirts, huddling as far as she could from Guy, who stood towering over her. He guided the float with a long oar that he’d found inside the raft. He was calm now that he had her where he wanted her, but he kept a wary eye out for any followers.
