His Lovely Ward

Chapter 23

Angelica froze, her eyes widened in surprise. She knew that voice very well and she didn’t have to turn around to know.

“Move,” the voice ordered and she felt a gun prod her forward. “You’ve been naughty, Angelica, dear,” the voice rasped too near her ear. Angelica flinched and the hairs around her nape stood up. Her eyes searched Henry’s and he looked as shock as she was.

“Pamela,” she stuttered, “what are you doing?” Yes, that was a stupid question. The woman was freaking trying to kill them with a gun in her hand and she asked what she was doing? Call that a spur of mindless blabber.

“Move,” the woman pushed harder. Angelica flew to Henry who was standing near Garrett. She looked at the man, and God, he looked really crazy crying over a dog drenched in blood.

“You killed my baby…” he moaned, looking at Pamela’s shadowed face, his eyes full of tears. “You killed my baby…”

“Shut up, Garrett! How many times do I have to tell you not to be weak?” Pamela shot him a furious, crazy look. God, the two of them were crazy! And then Pamela smiled in a very wicked way that it made Angelica’s hairs stand up all over again, causing a shiver over her spine. “We have guests, Garrett, you better hold yourself together.”

Angelica stifled a whimper as she clutched Henry’s arm with dear life. His free hand went to cover hers, trying to soothe, to calm. But there was no freaking way she could calm down! She could handle Mr. Scarred Face and his stupid men, but she couldn’t handle a crazy lady with a gun!

“Now, why are you two here in my house?” she asked, bending her head to one side with a feigned curious look.

“You killed my father,” Angelica said matter-of-factly, her voice shaking. Henry’s hand squeezed hers, probably trying to tell her to shut up. But she couldn’t. She was so damned frightened to just zip it.

Pamela sighed with exaggeration, “I couldn’t help it, my dear. He was planning to sell us all out and I can’t have that.” Her eyes went to Henry and then she added, “Drop that gun, Mr. Bell, or I will kill this pretty lady here,” she pointed her gun at Angelica.

“Don’t,” Angelica whispered at Henry.

But he did. He slowly bent down to the floor and placed the gun without a sound.

“Garrett, stop whining, you fool!” Pamela shouted at her husband. “You’re always making things difficult, you moron. Stand up and tie them up!”

Garrett whimpered, stood up, his face full of tears, his hands full of blood. He looked at Angelica and Henry. His face was completely different from what she was used to. He looked frail and weak, not the brooding, mean bastard she thought he was.

“Garrett,” Pamela called out stonily. “Get a rope and tie them up!”

Her husband flinched at her voice and slowly turned toward the door.

“I’m sorry for that. He’s kind of slow,” Pamela rolled her eyes, the gun still pointed toward Angelica. “Now, why don’t you sit down?” she motioned to the bed.

Henry took Angelica’s hand and pulled her down the bed with him.

“I want to see your hands in front of you. No tricks, Bell, I know who you are now,” the woman said proudly. “What? You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” she chuckled and sighed. “Oh, well, you should have stayed in the shadows like you did when Patrick was still alive. I didn’t know you were the spy, really. Good thing I stopped Patrick before you got too deep.” She walked toward the dog and crunched her face. “Poor thing’s dead. Garrett shouldn’t have provoked me.”