Amendment

{Nine} Pissing Off a McCoy

When I opened my eyes, I was back. Back in my own room. At first I could not be allowed to feel any joy. Confusion hit me hard in the gut. When had this happened? When Russ and I had traveled back to 1882, I’d had the feeling of blacking out. But it’d been different. There’d been no pain involved. Now, I felt a throbbing at the side of my head that was making me horribly nauseous.

  And then I blinked.

  No, not my room after all. In fact, I wasn’t sure why I’d mistaken it as mine in the first place. My brain must be more damaged than I thought! Two beds were shoved against the walls on either side of the room, making barely enough room for a dry sink—or whatever they called it. The lighting was dingy at best, doing nothing for my already bleary vision.

  And I was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. Upon further inspection, I realized not only was I in a chair, but I was also tied to it by my wrists and ankles. I didn’t have to think too hard to remember what had happened. Someone had jumped me. He rode in and hit….

  Oh my God—Russ!

  I struggled against my bounds, growling in frustration. No one was in the room with me, not that I could see anyway. But damnit if these hillbillies didn’t know how to tie a knot! The ropes were merely loose enough to not cut into my skin; yet as soon as I’d begun to try and wiggle out of them, they sunk in stubbornly.
  “Damnit!” I cursed under my breath. Tears of frustration burned at the corners of my eyes. I was never one of those girls to cry over everything—far from it! But for all I knew my brother was dead and I was in an awfully suspicious predicament. I’d say now was as good a time as any to get just a tad weepy.

  When the door began to creak, I ceased my tears and struggles. A man, and not the one who’d tackled me to the ground, entered the room. With his average height, ratty brown beard, and almost hunched shoulders, I would not have pegged him as an imposing figure. But it was his eyes, beady and full of desperation, that caught me off guard. This was not a man to be trifled with; though what had made him so desperate, I didn’t know. I could only hope he’d fill me in on the details—like soon.

  He had his arms crossed over his chest, meaning to look more intimidating. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. Here I was, a girl whose head had taken a big smooch with the ground and whose brother’s well-being was, yet again, unknown. To say I was a pissed off southern bell would be the understatement of this century.

  I glared up at him, sure my own intimidation method was in there somewhere. Maybe if I wasn’t tied to a chair I would have been more terrifying. But a girl’s gotta work with what she’s got! “Where the hell is my brother?!” I hissed hatefully. “You tell me where he is right now!”

  I’m pretty sure the Black Knight in Monte Python screaming, “I’ll bite your legs off!” while his limbs lay scattered around him, was scarier than me at this moment. After all, I couldn’t reasonably threaten this man. I was tied to a freaking chair and wearing a skirt, for God’s sake!

  This man, however, was completely unaware of Monte Python, and for a moment his eyes actually widened with surprise—though because of my seething words or the fact that a lady had cursed, I wasn’t entirely sure. “You are not in the position to be making demands,” he finally spoke, his voice quaky and unnerving. He spoke as if he were superior to all people; but maybe that was just because he’d kidnapped me. Maybe kidnappers spoke like that; I didn’t know, I’d never been kidnapped before.