Coupled Betrayal

Chapter 11

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August 22, 1879

Breaks and Gunshots. Keep reading.

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I expected maybe a broken wheel or a ditch, but a gunshot never crossed my mind. The gunshot and Charles's screams silenced us both, but our breathing sounded too loud, too heavy. I wanted to open the door and see if Charles was alright, but I also wanted to stay in the mirage of safety the carriage provided.

We pressed our bodies to the back of the seats to try to distance ourselves from the door. Fear cursed through my veins and the thought of moving to curtain over the window to peek seemed too terrifying.

Two voices cut through the silence leftover by the gunshot, but a thick accent distorted their English.

Highwaymen. I cursed my luck and sucked a breath as they whipped the door open.

"Get ye arses out the coach, ye trollops," a man with a gun threatened.

When we did not move, the unarmed man said, "Ye'll end up like the man if ye don't get down."

No one moved. I struggled to breath. Emily whimpered.

"Now!" A shot accompanied the order.

We scurried out, Emily behind me, and they looked us up and down.

"The boss will like 'em," the unarmed man said.

"She sure will," the man with the gun smirked.

"Tie 'em!"

"Please, no!" I begged, "I will give you anything you want... I have money. Please."

The armed man simply laughed, "shut your trap."

The unarmed man tied us with a thick rope and stuffed us back in the carriage.

The man with the gun gave instructions, "Ye take the girls to the boss. I'll catch up with ye in a minute."

He gagged our mouths, and I realized the armed man was staying behind with Charles. Emily realized this too, and a single tear wet her cheek. The carriage began moving, and we were alone.

I made muffled noise through the gag and shook my head vigorously, trying to get Emily to help with the gag. She stood up and turned around, and I put my head near her tied up hands.

Emily tried to loosen the tightly knotted fabric. At first, nothing happened until a certain tug undid the whole thing and it fell on my neck.

I smiled in excitement, hopeful that we might get free. I undid her gag, and we could finally talk.

"Emily, the rope on our hands is going to be rougher to untie so-"

Her free hands interrupted my words, and I could not believe my eyes, "How?"

The rope laid at her feet, "They just slid off... I think it is the sweat."

"Help me with mine, please."

Eventually, she freed my hands, and we worked on our bound feet. The coach still moved when we heard the door rattle. The man jumped in, gun in hand.

"I dinnae ken what ye think yer doing but sit yer arses down." The gun trailed our every move as we sat down next to each other. The man sat in front of us, watching us.

"Ye bonnie lassies will make the boss very happy. Dinnae move 'cus I willnae hesitate to kill ye."

We obliged him and didn't move, fright and panic keeping us in place. I did not want to cry, the emotion would cloud my judgement, and I couldn't afford that.