He was mad. Only an insane man could think that he could buy girls. Hurt them on his whim. That he could get away with such behavior.
He dragged his hand down her neck and squeezed her windpipe. He allowed her just enough air to stay conscious, but not enough to keep her lungs from burning.
Netta closed her eyes, gasping. He wouldn’t get away with it. Whatever he did to her, he would pay. Sudworth’s vengeance might have lain rotting and twisted for six years, butJohn’s would be swift.
He loved her; this she knew. The feeling had come on so gradually it was hard to pinpoint when she knew. But she understood the look in his eyes when he gazed upon her. It mirrored her own. And when John cared for someone, he wouldn’t let anything stop him from meting out justice on their behalf.
She only wished she would be alive to see it.
He pressed his cheek to hers and whispered in her ear. “After I fuck you in every hole you have, I’m going to find your sister and do the same to her.”
She lashed out, swinging her arms as hard as she could.
He chuckled at the impact.
She kicked and clawed, knowing how pointless it was to struggle but doing it regardless.
He squeezed harder, blocking her air entirely.
She tried to scream, but no sound emerged. Dark spots danced in her eyes. Her ears rang. Her lungs burned. The faint popping sounds must have been the bones in her neck finally giving way.
“What the hell?” Sudworth dropped her to the ground.
She landed hard on her shoulder, but barely noticed the pain as sweet air scraped past her raw throat into her lungs. The pungent odor of the cows didn’t even smell bad to her grateful nose. She drew in another deep breath.
A new scent followed that of dung.
“Fire!” one of the men yelled. He ran past her, his legs indistinct in the smoke.
Netta pulled herself to the corner and sat up. She blinked, but the smoke only grew thicker. Only…it didn’t smell of burning wood. And it didn’t hurt to breathe, though it did make her eyes water like the dickens.
A figure loomed from the darkness, reaching for her. Sudworth’s fingers clawed along her shoulder, and she rolled away.
He grabbed her leg, feeling his way up her body, until suddenly, he was gone.
His curses ended with a pained shriek.
Netta waved the air in front of her, trying to clear it, but she could see nothing.
But she knew instantly it was John when he slid his arms around her back and under her knees, lifting her against his chest. “I have you.” She felt the words rumble from his chest. “Don’t let go.”
She looped her bound wrists around his neck. The tears rolling down her cheek weren’t just from the smoke. Silly man. Don’t let go? Didn’t he know he was well and truly stuck with her? He’d found her. She was never letting go again.
An eerie silence descended as he carried her from the stables. As the smoke thinned, she saw why. Bob and Roger knelt on the dirt outside, four pistols drawn on them. Each of John’s friends stood sentinel, cloth-wrapped goggles covering their eyes.
Netta blinked. The goggles were an odd accessory for the aristocrats.
Netta turned to John to ask, and a startled ‘eep’ slipped past her lips at his own owlish gaze.
He set her on her feet and swept off the goggles. “Something I made for my work with chemicals. To protect the eyes.”
She looked from them, to the smoke drifting through the open doors. “It isn’t a fire, is it?”
“No. A mixture I developed that clouds the vision.” He made quick work of the rope at her wrists, gently chaffing them after tossing the bindings to the ground. “Useful when you’re the only one who can see.”
Steel glinted in the dawn. “Useful, but not foolproof.” Sudworth stepped from the shadows and pointed his pistol at Netta’s head. “You should have made sure I stayed down.”
John didn’t take his eyes off her face. He gave her a small, secret smile. “A circumstance that will soon be remedied.”
