Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 22

It happened in a flash that Joseph "Mighty Joe" Goddard could barely see anything until the young man who shouted at him suddenly crumpled in a heap at his feet, and the other man reeled back with a surprised look. The next second, Goddard caught the sight of a blood-coated knife in his hand.

Then a shocking realization struck him.

The blood dripping from the knife would have been his had the young man not thrown himself in front of him. Leaping down, Goddard swiftly flipped the young man to see the severity of his injury, and found that red stain had been expanding rapidly over his shirtfront.

Goddard cursed himself for not being aware of the oncoming danger. He'd dismissed a threat he'd received not so long ago as a mere bluff. He'd never feared for anything under the sun in his fifty eight years and he'd always refused to be defeated by age despite the fact that he was nudging sixty. However, it appeared that he began to lose his customary alertness.

"Fucking bastard!"
He sprang to his feet with a remarkable ease for a man his age, but before he could launch himself forward, two passersby had lunged at the attacker from behind, sending the man falling onto the pavement. Gasps and shrieks erupted as heads spun toward them. Soon the scene pulled in a crowd. People gathered around them, watching rounded-eyed as the brave passersby grappled with the man on the ground. After a clash of blows, one of the passersby managed to tear the knife away from the attacker. The villain struggled to break loose until a hard punch in the jaw knocked him out. He hung limply when the other man grabbed him, twisted his arm up behind his back and forced him to get back to his feet.

"Don't worry, Sir. We'll bring him to the magistrate." One of the men said to him. Goddard watched a group of men whisk the attacker off, then swiftly turned his attention to the fainted man on the pavement. He would deal with the blighter later, but now there was a more urgent matter.

Turning toward the street, Goddard whistled loudly and a hired hack pulled over, coming to a jerky stop near them. With the help of some handy men, Goddard hoisted his rescuer into the vehicle. The driver twisted on his perch to see his passenger and flinched at the sight of blood.
"Whoa! That looks like a nasty gash!"

"The hospital. Quick."
Goddard flung himself into the hack.

"Ain't likely. There have been traffic tie-ups going on there since an hour ago."

"What the hell?!!"

The driver shrugged. "I heard there's a wedding going on at a nearby church."

"Goddard's, then."

The driver frowned at the mention of the infamous place.
"The casino? Why would you want to bring an injured man to a casino? Besides, it must be closed at this hour."
Then he suddenly caught a scar on Goddard's upper nose. A startled gasp escaped him,
"No way!!! Are you-"

His sentence was cut off by a harsh rebuke.
"If you don't stop talking and start driving, you'll have a dead man in your back seat."

With a flinch, the driver hurriedly turned around and snapped the reins, and the vehicle rolled down the road.

*****

The sun was beginning to descend below the horizon when Marguerite Goddard eventually finished adding shade to the last petal of the flower sketch she'd been working for hours. With a satisfied smile, she put down her pencil and looked down at her handiwork for several seconds before gazing out the window to the blushing sky.

Another day was coming to an end. Another day she'd managed to get through, thanks to her favorite pastime.

After her mother's death a few years ago, drawing had been the saving of her. Without her pencils and papers she wouldn't know how to pass the interminably long hours in her solitary confines. Not that she could complain about that. There wasn't much of a choice for a girl living above a casino with her foster father.