“Get him,” Smidgley ordered his thugs who all began to converge on Oliver at once.
Oliver eyed each man in turn but stood his ground. The gun he held had one more shot. It was practically useless against the onslaught of three men, but he knew how to fight. He wasn’t down and out yet. Bracing himself, Oliver knew the next several moments were going to be tricky but took aim and shot the closest man straight in his stomach. Leaving him to fall to the floor, Oliver then stepped toward the next approaching thug and swung the butt of his gun at the man’s head before jabbing it sharply into the man’s stomach, ribs, and jaw, and then into the side of his knee. While he was working on the second man, the third circled around them and attacked Oliver from the side. Oliver stepped swiftly out of the way, but the thug followed. He grabbed Oliver’s arm in a painful grip. Oliver, temporarily distracted from his attack of the second thug, was punched soundly in the side of the head. Pain exploded across his jaw. Ruthlessly, Oliver used the weight of the man holding him to lift both feet off the ground. Within seconds, the second thug fell to the floor unconscious. Oliver then doubled over and took the weight of the third thug with him. The speed he bent over at the waist took his attacker guard and gave Oliver the ability to slam him head first into the ground. When he was down, Oliver then slammed a booted foot into the side of the man’s head that stopped him getting up again.
“Stand still,” the fourth thug ordered. The loud cocking of his gun was enough to make Oliver freeze. “Put your hands up.”
Oliver did as he was told and slowly eased his hands into the air. It didn’t matter that he was unarmed because he was just as adept at fighting without a weapon as he was with one, but Smidgley and his thugs needn’t know that.
“I suggest you come out now!” Smidgley called. “He has told you to hide, hasn’t he? Well, he is going to die if you don’t hand yourself over to me.”
Oliver snorted. “Do you really think she is going to believe that?”
The thug Oliver had hoped he had knocked out suddenly surged to his feet with a loud growl. He wavered a minute and shook his head to try to clear the cloudiness in his vision. When his gaze landed on Oliver, he smirked and balled his fist.
“Not yet,” Smidgley commanded. “Well, go on then, but just once.”
Oliver ducked when the thug swung a fist at his head. He slammed a kick into the man’s groin and watched him fall again but didn’t get to finish him off. The bullet the fourth thug fired at him whizzed past Oliver’s head far too closely and was enough of a warning to Oliver that Smidgley would kill him if he wanted. Smidgley would then set about searching the whole farm and wouldn’t stop until he had found Emmeline. God only knew what would happen to her then.
Over my dead body.
A fierce possessiveness swept over Oliver then that was unlike any other Oliver had ever felt in his life. He was stunned by the rampant determination to keep her not just alive, but safe and with him. He wanted her in his life, damn it, and didn’t care what he had to do to keep her with him. In the few moments that Oliver was praying Emmeline would have the good sense to stay where she was, the third thug surged to his feet again. This time, he came up behind Oliver and grabbed his arms in a cruel hold that held him perfectly still. Smidgley slowly dismounted.
“So, we meet again” He raked Oliver with a condescending look that left Oliver in no doubt he didn’t like what he saw.
Oliver didn’t even blink when Smidgley’s fist struck him across the jaw. A small trickle of blood began to ease slowly out of the side of his mouth. Oliver smirked but didn’t blink or show even a faint hint of emotion.
“The Star Elite.” Rupert shook his head, as if saddened by what he was seeing.
“Never heard of it,” Oliver drawled. There was little he could do about the ‘oomph’ of pain that escaped him when Smidgley’s fist slammed into his stomach. Oliver felt sick but sucked in a breath and stared steadily at his opponent. He tried the strength of the man behind him, but the hold was too strong to break. Patiently, Oliver waited.
“Are you listening, Emmeline? That is your name, isn’t it? You are Caroline’s sister. I know you are here. You had better come out or you are going to sit and listen to us kill him slowly and very painfully,” Smidgley called.
“You can try,” Oliver snorted.
“Do you are challenge me?” Smidgley sneered.
“I know where your brother is,” Oliver smirked. “And his friends, and your thugs, their associates.” Oliver’s head jerked toward the men around him. “You don’t though. Kill me and you will never see your brother alive again. Oh, by the way, you may want to speak to your contacts in the War Office. I am sure you will find they are a little – er – uncommunicative.”
Oliver lifted his brows and watched Smidgley’s face harden.
“This Star Elite know who you are, what you are doing, and who your connections are in the hierarchy of the War Office. Or, rather, were. They are being stopped from within. There is nothing you can do, Smidgley. Your brother has already gone and won’t be back. Do you think that all your – contacts – will protect you when you are in the Tower of London and charged with treason? Do you really think anybody you are blackmailing will step forward to vouch for you when your arse is in the fire?”
Oliver fell silent when Smidgley slammed another face into his jaw and followed it with a kick to his stomach. He spat his mouthful of blood onto the dirt at their feet and smirked when splashes of it went over Smidgley’s highly polished boot. Smidgley looked down at the mess slowly. Without saying a word, Smidgley then doubled back another fist and was about to slam it into Oliver’s head when he spotted the shotgun Oliver had been forced to drop earlier. He picked it up with a cruel smile and hefted its weight. Oliver knew it had no shot in it, but it was a far harsher weapon than a fist. He braced himself, prepared for the worst.
I never once considered just how much having a future with Emmeline meant to me, he mused thoughtfully as he waited for the beating that would most probably end his life.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Leave him alone,” Emmeline commanded from the doorway of the barn.
She felt sick when she saw the cuts and welts on Oliver’s face. The three thugs with Smidgley all turned to look at her, but Emmeline kept her hard gaze locked on the man with the gun.
“Get out of here, Emmeline,” Oliver growled.
“Stay. Watch. Then you are coming with us,” Smidgley smirked. “I knew you would see sense eventually, but there is little you can do about his Fate.”
Smidgley lifted a hand back and prepared to slam the gun into Oliver’s stomach when Emmeline stepped forward again. The short plank she held in one hand was all she had been able to find within the loft area which might be of some use. Now that she had seen the thugs, though, she realised just how wholly unprepared she was to challenge them. They were vile, brutal, reprehensible, and without mercy. From the looks on their faces, they enjoyed being able to put on a physical display of brutality.
Emmeline’s thoughts turned briefly to her sister. She dreaded to think what they were like with women at their mercy given what she was witnessing them do to Oliver, a lawman. Still, she refused to back down or show them any sign of weakness.