Runaway (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 4)

“We know who you are,” Ernest growled.

“Really? How?” Jasper lifted his brows at the young lad he now suspected was Ernest’s brother, a lad called Rupert.

“We are going to teach you a lesson about sticking your nose in,” one of the men warned. He slapped a short chain into his palm for emphasis.

Jasper looked at it, aware of how it would be used to strike excruciating blows upon him in a way that would disarm him almost instantly. He knew that he had to target that assailant first and use the chain himself if he had any hope of getting out of this alive.

“Got a problem, Bob?” Oliver suddenly drawled from the darkness at the opposite end of the empty yard.

Outwardly, Jasper’s demeanour didn’t alter. His handsome features remained cold and aloof. He barely acknowledged Oliver, not least because he daren’t remove his gaze from the threatening thugs who would kill him within seconds if they chose. Inwardly, though, he was cheering wildly with the relief that Oliver’s appearance brought him. While the odds were still stacked against them, with each member of the Star Elite who arrived to lend a hand, the chances of surviving the forthcoming skirmish increased.

“Yep. These cretins seem to think they can mug me,” Jasper drawled conversationally, with a mocking tone that made the thugs closest to him edge closer still.

“Need a hand?” Callum called from the opposite side of the large yard.

“I think we have to teach these gentlemen a lesson about accosting strangers in back alleys,” Jasper murmured. His lips curved into a menacing smile of anticipation as he stepped toward the thug closest.

Suddenly, just as Jasper was about to land the first punch, Niall walked around the side of the carriage toward him. He ambled aimlessly into the fray as though out for an afternoon stroll only to stop and lift his brows in a comical display of surprise that did little to change the ruthlessness in his eyes. Without uttering a word, he removed his gun from the deep pocket of his cloak, cocked it and pointed it directly at the head of the fop.

Ernest froze. “You are going to come with me. I have a few questions to ask you,” he murmured, even though he was now frowning and considerably less cocky.

“They seem to think we need a warning,” Jasper informed his colleagues.

“Oh, really?” Oliver nodded thoughtfully, as if to seriously contemplate that possibility. “I don’t believe we need a warning about anything from anybody. Do you?”

“Not from a gang of backstreet yobs like this, no,” Jasper replied.

“I think we have to give them a lesson instead,” Callum added.

“Gentlemen, shall we?” Oliver removed his jacket and folded it quite precisely before, to everyone’s astonishment, he laid it down equally carefully upon a small pile of bricks next to him. When he was done, he began to fold up the sleeves of his pristine shirt until they reached his elbows. Before he had finished, he doubled back a fist and slammed it hard into the side of the head of the thug closest to him, and the melee began to scrap.

Jasper gasped as he was slammed bodily into the wall behind him by two thugs. He squinted at a third thug who edged closer, his boot lifted in preparation to kick Jasper, who was already poised and waiting. Using the men holding him as leverage, Jasper thwarted the kicker by placing a well-aimed boot into the crotch of his attacker. The man emitted a howl of discontent and fell to his knees. With a low growl, Jasper yanked hard on his arms and spun around until he was facing the wall. As he turned, he swung a leg out and slammed it behind the knee of the man closest to him. He watched the man struggle for balance and landed a heavy punch against the man’s jaw. When his attacker fell to the floor, Jasper turned his attention to another thug who surged toward him in a wild charge of lethal menace. Jasper side-stepped seconds before the man landed heavily against him leaving the man with no choice but to slam head first into the wall.

With a feral grin, Jasper stepped toward the third thug only to pause suddenly when a loud, decidedly feminine scream shattered the air. All the men in the large yard froze and turned to look at the source of the noise. There, just inside the main entrance, was a young woman struggling violently against an attacker of her own. It was difficult to know if it her assailant was from the same group, or a different kind of thief entirely or, worse, a rapist. Whoever it was they were trying valiantly to drag the wildly protesting woman into the darkness of the yard. The man had yet to notice that the place was already occupied by several men who were in the middle of a vicious battle.

It was difficult to know who was the one who landed the first punch, but after a momentary hesitation the battle resumed. The men threw fists, landed kicks and continued to brawl in the darkness of the gloomy night, all the while trying not to stand and watch the ongoing tug-of-war between the screeching young woman and her assailant.

While Jasper did everything humanly possibly to support his friends, he was distracted by the outcome of the woman’s battle. He knew it was something he should ignore. He was struggling enough to control his own enemy. The last thing he needed was to take on someone else’s. His ribs hurt so badly he was sure at least one was broken. He was covered in bruises, some of which were going to take a while to stop aching. To add to his already bloodied state, he had now got his conscience to battle with. It was screaming at him not to allow the woman to lose her life or, worse, be molested. He was a member of the Star Elite. It was his responsibility, his moral duty, to ensure she was safe, even though it was going to be difficult to fight his attackers off quickly enough to be of any use to her. He suspected that if he did break off fighting to go and help he would only take her another set of troubles she would be better off without because his attackers would follow him.

“Go and see to her,” Oliver ordered coldly. He grunted in disgust when a large, burly man slammed his shoulder into his midriff, and he was slammed onto the ground before he could say anything else to his colleague. Jasper, unprepared to allow Oliver to sustain further injury from the wild flurry of heavy fists that were barraging him, landed a heavy kick against Oliver’s attacker and watched him slump sideways to the ground.

“Jesus,” Oliver swore as he clambered to his feet.

Jasper waited long enough to make sure that Oliver was able to sustain the attack of the next thug to set on him with a bitter curse of rage. By the time Jasper turned to face the entrance where the young woman had been, though, she had vanished.

Molly squirmed and wriggled against the tight hold the man had on her wrist. Her flesh burned beneath his grubby fingers, which were clamped strongly around her tender flesh so tightly Molly felt her bones being crushed.

“Get off me! What do you think you are doing? Let go of me!” When she realised her demands weren’t even registering on the thug, she began to slap wildly at his hand. She tried to prise his fingers off one by one, even digging her fingers in as hard as she could.

Suddenly, he cursed and whirled to face her. Rather than issue her a warning, he clamped his fingers around her chin in a fierce grip and leaned forward so his fetid breath swept over her. When he growled menacingly, it was far more threatening than the darkness in the evil glare he was giving her.

“Do that again and I am going to shut you up once and for all,” he snarled.

“I shall scream again,” Molly spat, and she squared her shoulders to prove that she was as determined to stand her ground as he was.

“Because that really worked for you before, didn’t it?” he grunted with a contemptuous snort.

“Who are you? What do you want with me? I warn you now that I don’t have anything to give you.” Molly glared at the back of his head when he continued to drag her down the street. “Get off me!”