brought his foot squarely into the man’s wrist.
Laila winced at the sound of cracking bone.
Her heart raced as she watched Flint demolish the men, piece by piece. She wondered briefly if she should help. But, decided she would just get in the way. Besides, without her dagger, she’d be more hindrance than help.
Within seconds, both men were laying on the ground moaning, writhing in pain.
Flint brushed his hair out of his eyes as he turned back to address the Prince.
“Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. You have a choice,” he said, giving the little man a menacing stare that would have killed larger men. “Give her back her locket, or die. There is no in between.”
The Prince’s face had lost all color. Laila noticed that his eyes didn’t look so beady now. They were as wide and open as they had probably ever been.
A sense of pure pleasure washed though her at the sight of the bully being brought low.
The Prince’s hands shook as he tried to give her the locket back. Laila snatched it out of his hand less he drop it in the dirt. This item was too precious to her. The thought that this piece of filth had touched it made her shudder.
She quickly opened it and confirmed that the coin was still inside. Smiling, she glanced at Flint and nodded her head, letting him know it was safe.
Then, slowly, she turned back to look at the Prince. He seemed to relax when he saw that she was happy with the locket. His eyes reflected a sense of relief. As if he might get out of this without any pain or embarrassment.
That was all she needed. Before he could react, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. The resounding clap echoed through the garden.
Her hand hurt so bad she had to shake it to try and get rid of the sting.
“That was for taking my locket,” she said. “And, this is for groping me, you bastard.” Again, before he could react, she brought her knee up into his groin.
The satisfying grunt the Prince gave out as he collapsed was one of those sounds that she would remember with fondness on her death bed.
She heard Flint wince behind her, as the Prince fell to the ground like a forgotten promise.
“What?” she said to Flint, “he deserved it.”
Flint backed away, putting both hands up. “You don’t have to convince me. I’d have skinned him alive if you wanted me to. But, the look of pure joy as you delivered that hit. Makes a man think he should sleep light.”
“You ever make me this mad,” Laila said, “you better sleep light.”
Flint laughed and turned to lead her back to the house.
He slammed to a halt and put a hand out to stop her from going any further.
Eight Guardsmen were rounding the corner. And a big man with gray hair was yelling at them to hurry.
Laila’s first thought was even Flint couldn’t disarm eight Guardsman. They had lost after all.
Chapter Twelve
Flint’s heart dropped at the sight of the new Guardsmen. He had hoped to get her out of this without any more fuss. Then he saw Mr. Gray egging them on. Swinging his arm for them to hurry.
Damn, the bastard. He would make him pay. Somewhere, some time.
Flint’s mind raced with different scenarios. Different ways their situation could play out. None of them looked good.
Taking Laila’s arm, he began running deeper into the garden. Laila’s face had turned whiter than moonlight as she tried to keep up with him.
As they turned the last corner, both of them slid along the gravel as they tried to stop. A ten-foot, solid brick wall greeted them.
Flint glanced both ways. No gate in sight. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed Laila around the waist. She squealed as he tossed her into the air, and onto the top of the wall like a bale of hay. Now was not the time to worry about what she thought or knew. Now was the time to act.
Seeing that she would stay there and not fall off, Flint jumped and grabbed the top of the wall then pulled himself up.
Laila looked at him, her eyes big and frightened. Flint wondered what
Laila winced at the sound of cracking bone.
Her heart raced as she watched Flint demolish the men, piece by piece. She wondered briefly if she should help. But, decided she would just get in the way. Besides, without her dagger, she’d be more hindrance than help.
Within seconds, both men were laying on the ground moaning, writhing in pain.
Flint brushed his hair out of his eyes as he turned back to address the Prince.
“Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. You have a choice,” he said, giving the little man a menacing stare that would have killed larger men. “Give her back her locket, or die. There is no in between.”
The Prince’s face had lost all color. Laila noticed that his eyes didn’t look so beady now. They were as wide and open as they had probably ever been.
A sense of pure pleasure washed though her at the sight of the bully being brought low.
The Prince’s hands shook as he tried to give her the locket back. Laila snatched it out of his hand less he drop it in the dirt. This item was too precious to her. The thought that this piece of filth had touched it made her shudder.
She quickly opened it and confirmed that the coin was still inside. Smiling, she glanced at Flint and nodded her head, letting him know it was safe.
Then, slowly, she turned back to look at the Prince. He seemed to relax when he saw that she was happy with the locket. His eyes reflected a sense of relief. As if he might get out of this without any pain or embarrassment.
That was all she needed. Before he could react, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. The resounding clap echoed through the garden.
Her hand hurt so bad she had to shake it to try and get rid of the sting.
“That was for taking my locket,” she said. “And, this is for groping me, you bastard.” Again, before he could react, she brought her knee up into his groin.
The satisfying grunt the Prince gave out as he collapsed was one of those sounds that she would remember with fondness on her death bed.
She heard Flint wince behind her, as the Prince fell to the ground like a forgotten promise.
“What?” she said to Flint, “he deserved it.”
Flint backed away, putting both hands up. “You don’t have to convince me. I’d have skinned him alive if you wanted me to. But, the look of pure joy as you delivered that hit. Makes a man think he should sleep light.”
“You ever make me this mad,” Laila said, “you better sleep light.”
Flint laughed and turned to lead her back to the house.
He slammed to a halt and put a hand out to stop her from going any further.
Eight Guardsmen were rounding the corner. And a big man with gray hair was yelling at them to hurry.
Laila’s first thought was even Flint couldn’t disarm eight Guardsman. They had lost after all.
Chapter Twelve
Flint’s heart dropped at the sight of the new Guardsmen. He had hoped to get her out of this without any more fuss. Then he saw Mr. Gray egging them on. Swinging his arm for them to hurry.
Damn, the bastard. He would make him pay. Somewhere, some time.
Flint’s mind raced with different scenarios. Different ways their situation could play out. None of them looked good.
Taking Laila’s arm, he began running deeper into the garden. Laila’s face had turned whiter than moonlight as she tried to keep up with him.
As they turned the last corner, both of them slid along the gravel as they tried to stop. A ten-foot, solid brick wall greeted them.
Flint glanced both ways. No gate in sight. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed Laila around the waist. She squealed as he tossed her into the air, and onto the top of the wall like a bale of hay. Now was not the time to worry about what she thought or knew. Now was the time to act.
Seeing that she would stay there and not fall off, Flint jumped and grabbed the top of the wall then pulled himself up.
Laila looked at him, her eyes big and frightened. Flint wondered what
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