A Truelove of Turtle Doves

Chpt 35 - Treacherous

Francis reached for his pistol.

"Ah ah ah," tutted Michael, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. These policemen here have full authority to shoot should they feel threatened."

A sickly sweet grin found it's way onto his face. "And don't worry, pirate - they wouldn't be firing at you."

Francis' eyes widened ever so slightly and a feeling of dread settled into my stomach. I wanted to throw up.

His face hardened quickly, and with a clenched jaw, he withdrew his hand from his belt. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the chauffeur.

"Now, let's get the both of you out of that alleyway, hm?"

It wasn't a suggestion - it was most definitely an order.

Michael and the policemen moved aside, allowing us to walked out of the alley and onto the main street.

I started moving, but Francis seized my arm roughly.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

The panic in his voice made me flinch slightly.

"We don't have a choice, amoureux. It's that or get shot."

I met his eyes, only to see the beginnings of fear settling into them. I took his hand and tugged him along with me out of the alley.

He squeezed mine tightly. I returned the gesture.

As soon as we stood in the middle of the main street, three of the policemen snatched me and the other three snatched Francis, forcibly dragging us several feet apart from each other while we thrashed about.

"Hey!" snapped Francis, "Let him go!"

I was shoved down onto my knees, the force of it sending aching shock waves through my body, my arms painfully twisted behind my back, and I felt the end of a gun pressed the the back of my head. My eyes widened. I went as still as physically possible.

I glanced to the side to see Francis in the same position as myself, but without the gun to his head. His eyes went from wide to narrowed, fury running rampant in them.

"You wouldn't dare," he growled at Michael.

Another one of those twisted grins formed on the chauffeur's face.

"Like I said, they have authority to shoot, as do I, I might add. And so, what story will Mr and Mrs (L/N) believe? It would be a seven-to-one account of a bloodthirsty pirate shooting their only son, or a police officer shooting him under my orders. I think I know which one they will pick, don't you?"

The look on Francis' face was nothing shy of pure rage and resentment.

Michael turned to me, a satisfied look on his face as he stalked closer.

"In all honesty, I thought I'd catch you sooner, but better late than never I suppose. I bet you thought you could get away with it, didn't you?"

He yanked my head back by hair, and I bit my tongue to stop myself from crying out.

I could see Francis struggling to get free as he watched, an almost helpless look taking over the anger.

I glared at the chauffeur, but I didn't say anything.

"What? No clever quip for me this time, (Y/N)? I'm slightly disappointed. But what I feel will be nothing compared to how mummy and daddy are going to react when they find out you've been seeing a pirate."

He briefly looked at one of the three policemen behind me, jerking his head as if to say, 'go'. The policeman did just that, running off to presumably fetch my parents.