Runaway (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite Book 4) Read online

  “Yep. These cretins seem to think they can mug me,” Jasper drawled conversationally, with a mocking tone that made the thugs closest to him edge closer still.

  “Need a hand?” Callum called from the opposite side of the large yard.

  “I think we have to teach these gentlemen a lesson about accosting strangers in back alleys,” Jasper murmured. His lips curved into a menacing smile of anticipation as he stepped toward the thug closest.

  Suddenly, just as Jasper was about to land the first punch, Niall walked around the side of the carriage toward him. He ambled aimlessly into the fray as though out for an afternoon stroll only to stop and lift his brows in a comical display of surprise that did little to change the ruthlessness in his eyes. Without uttering a word, he removed his gun from the deep pocket of his cloak, cocked it and pointed it directly at the head of the fop.

  Ernest froze. “You are going to come with me. I have a few questions to ask you,” he murmured, even though he was now frowning and considerably less cocky.

  “They seem to think we need a warning,” Jasper informed his colleagues.

  “Oh, really?” Oliver nodded thoughtfully, as if to seriously contemplate that possibility. “I don’t believe we need a warning about anything from anybody. Do you?”

  “Not from a gang of backstreet yobs like this, no,” Jasper replied.

  “I think we have to give them a lesson instead,” Callum added.

  “Gentlemen, shall we?” Oliver removed his jacket and folded it quite precisely before, to everyone’s astonishment, he laid it down equally carefully upon a small pile of bricks next to him. When he was done, he began to fold up the sleeves of his pristine shirt until they reached his elbows. Before he had finished, he doubled back a fist and slammed it hard into the side of the head of the thug closest to him, and the melee began to scrap.

  Jasper gasped as he was slammed bodily into the wall behind him by two thugs. He squinted at a third thug who edged closer, his boot lifted in preparation to kick Jasper, who was already poised and waiting. Using the men holding him as leverage, Jasper thwarted the kicker by placing a well-aimed boot into the crotch of his attacker. The man emitted a howl of discontent and fell to his knees. With a low growl, Jasper yanked hard on his arms and spun around until he was facing the wall. As he turned, he swung a leg out and slammed it behind the knee of the man closest to him. He watched the man struggle for balance and landed a heavy punch against the man’s jaw. When his attacker fell to the floor, Jasper turned his attention to another thug who surged toward him in a wild charge of lethal menace. Jasper side-stepped seconds before the man landed heavily against him leaving the man with no choice but to slam head first into the wall.

  With a feral grin, Jasper stepped toward the third thug only to pause suddenly when a loud, decidedly feminine scream shattered the air. All the men in the large yard froze and turned to look at the source of the noise. There, just inside the main entrance, was a young woman struggling violently against an attacker of her own. It was difficult to know if it her assailant was from the same group, or a different kind of thief entirely or, worse, a rapist. Whoever it was they were trying valiantly to drag the wildly protesting woman into the darkness of the yard. The man had yet to notice that the place was already occupied by several men who were in the middle of a vicious battle.

  It was difficult to know who was the one who landed the first punch, but after a momentary hesitation the battle resumed. The men threw fists, landed kicks and continued to brawl in the darkness of the gloomy night, all the while trying not to stand and watch the ongoing tug-of-war between the screeching young woman and her assailant.

  While Jasper did everything humanly possibly to support his friends, he was distracted by the outcome of the woman’s battle. He knew it was something he should ignore. He was struggling enough to control his own enemy. The last thing he needed was to take on someone else’s. His ribs hurt so badly he was sure at least one was broken. He was covered in bruises, some of which were going to take a while to stop aching. To add to his already bloodied state, he had now got his conscience to battle with. It was screaming at him not to allow the woman to lose her life or, worse, be molested. He was a member of the Star Elite. It was his responsibility, his moral duty, to ensure she was safe, even though it was going to be difficult to fight his attackers off quickly enough to be of any use to her. He suspected that if he did break off fighting to go and help he would only take her another set of troubles she would be better off without because his attackers would follow him.

  “Go and see to her,” Oliver ordered coldly. He grunted in disgust when a large, burly man slammed his shoulder into his midriff, and he was slammed onto the ground before he could say anything else to his colleague. Jasper, unprepared to allow Oliver to sustain further injury from the wild flurry of heavy fists that were barraging him, landed a heavy kick against Oliver’s attacker and watched him slump sideways to the ground.

  “Jesus,” Oliver swore as he clambered to his feet.

  Jasper waited long enough to make sure that Oliver was able to sustain the attack of the next thug to set on him with a bitter curse of rage. By the time Jasper turned to face the entrance where the young woman had been, though, she had vanished.

  Molly squirmed and wriggled against the tight hold the man had on her wrist. Her flesh burned beneath his grubby fingers, which were clamped strongly around her tender flesh so tightly Molly felt her bones being crushed.

  “Get off me! What do you think you are doing? Let go of me!” When she realised her demands weren’t even registering on the thug, she began to slap wildly at his hand. She tried to prise his fingers off one by one, even digging her fingers in as hard as she could.

  Suddenly, he cursed and whirled to face her. Rather than issue her a warning, he clamped his fingers around her chin in a fierce grip and leaned forward so his fetid breath swept over her. When he growled menacingly, it was far more threatening than the darkness in the evil glare he was giving her.

  “Do that again and I am going to shut you up once and for all,” he snarled.

  “I shall scream again,” Molly spat, and she squared her shoulders to prove that she was as determined to stand her ground as he was.

  “Because that really worked for you before, didn’t it?” he grunted with a contemptuous snort.

  “Who are you? What do you want with me? I warn you now that I don’t have anything to give you.” Molly glared at the back of his head when he continued to drag her down the street. “Get off me!”

  It was horrifying that nobody was rushing to her aid. She was being dragged protesting down the middle of a busy street in a bustling city and nobody was giving her even a second look. It was a surreal moment. She felt as though she didn’t exist. When it began to dawn on her that nobody was going to come to help her, Molly knew she had to find a way to get herself out of the mess she was in. But it was horrifying, and built her panic, when she couldn’t think of a single thing she could say or do to stop him from dragging her to – well, whatever it was he was dragging her to.

  By the time she reached the end of the street, and it was clear he wanted them to cross to the large bank of warehouses on the opposite side of the road, Molly knew she had to do something. Desperation drove her to slam her heels down and lean back with all her meagre strength. But she was no match for the burly thug who was twice her size. He didn’t even break his stride. It was only when he moved forward to step off the pavement that she realised there could be no sentiment in her fight for freedom. This was war.

  As the man stepped off the kerb, Molly studied the carriage that was trundling toward them. She physically shook with the horror of what she was about to do but couldn’t allow her conscience to rule her because it would bring about her death.

  When the carriage was close enough, rather than tug him backward as he expected, she charged forward, darting out directly in front of the horses. Planting her boots firmly in the road, Molly then began to scre
am loudly and flail her arms about. The horses reared in terror at the startling movements she made in their faces. The thug cursed bitterly and tried to haul her away, but Molly stubbornly grabbed the horse’s bridle closest to her and refused to release it. The horse pulled its head up and it stepped back and began to prance about. Its strength was no match for the man, who struggled to get a firmer grip on Molly. Inadvertently, he released her. Molly took advantage of her momentary freedom and slithered agilely between the animals. Ignoring the coachman’s angry cries, Molly began to pray and then tried to decide how she was going to get herself out of this new mess.

  Jasper raced toward the entrance of the yard, his gaze scanning the darkest shadows all around him. He couldn’t see or hear her anymore, but knew the woman had to be around somewhere.

  “Do you see her?” Callum gasped when he stopped beside him.

  “No,” Jasper growled. “She can’t just disappear.”

  Both men began to scour the street. Callum turned one way and Jasper the other. Together they began to look for the screaming lady.

  Jasper didn’t need to look far before he saw a disturbance at the end of the road. When the woman began to scream again, he signalled to Callum and set off after her. It was clear she was in dire trouble when he drew close and saw her standing, quite dainty and delicate, between two huge carriage horses who were dancing about in protest at her presence. She disappeared briefly when the horses bumped and shifted against her.

  “Get out of there,” Jasper growled when he finally reached her.

  He glared angrily at her, but she didn’t appear to have heard him above the snarls of the coachman and the man who had dragged her into this situation.

  Molly, well aware that she was drawing a crowd, knew that if she was going to escape she had to do it now. When she turned to look at the stays and the confusing cobweb of reins securing the horses to the carriage, she realised that she was stuck.

  “Just stand still. Everybody shut up and calm down,” Jasper ordered loudly.

  He lifted his hands and threw a dark glare at the thug on the pavement. He knew the man was a criminal and had little, if anything, to do with the well-dressed young woman who was so determined to get away from him. Quietly, he placed a calming hand on the noses of the horses while his gaze met the terrified young woman stuck between them.

  “Step slowly toward me,” he urged quietly.

  Molly shook her head. She had no idea who this man was, but he was more terrifying than the thug waiting for her to reappear. The man before her was handsome but looked as if he had been in some sort of war. He was bloodied, cut and bruised practically everywhere, and so dirty and dishevelled she knew she couldn’t trust him. When their gazes met, her heart flipped but she forced herself to ignore it. Weakness could result in her death, she knew it.

  “You have to get out of there. Slowly,” Jasper warned. He dug deep for his patience because he wanted to haul her out, but daren’t make any sudden moves in case the horses bolted and crushed her beneath the wheels of the carriage.

  Molly forced herself to ignore how handsome the man was but couldn’t resist taking another lingering look at him. As her gaze raked him from head to toe, it landed on the torn material of his breeches, and highly polished and very expensive boots. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Molly wondered if she had completely misjudged who he was, but the state of him assured her she couldn’t be wrong. She couldn’t trust him.

  “Not you.”

  “What?” Jasper frowned when she mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

  Molly shook her head.

  “Just follow me,” he whispered. “Listen to me.”

  Briefly, there was just the two of them, alone, together. Molly was drawn to the steady reassurance in his dark brown eyes. For a moment, she was tempted to do exactly as he told her. There was something entrancing about the slightly husky tone of his deep baritone voice that assured her that she could trust him. She wanted to, more than anything, but just couldn’t face the possibility that she might be placing her trust in the wrong person. If she got it wrong he would hand her over to the thug and she would probably die.

  Slowly, Molly shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “I know you are stuck, but if you step back over this here, I will hold the horses steady and you can get back out,” Jasper pointed to the low bar at his knees that held the horses together.

  Molly shook her head again. “I am not coming out,” she whispered.

  Again, her gaze fell to his knees. She knew then exactly what she had to do. The thought was horrifying, not least because if she didn’t succeed then she was going to die, here, tonight, alone in a busy street in the middle of London.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Jasper assured her. He had no idea if he meant the horses who could kill her at any second, or the man standing waiting for her on the kerb.

  “I don’t know you,” she replied.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Jasper promised.

  “I don’t know him,” she confirmed.

  Jasper nodded. “Just do as I tell you. I will keep you safe.”

  Molly wanted to believe him, more than anything she needed to be able to believe him. She knew she couldn’t. This was London. He was part of the city, one of the people in the street who had just ignored her being dragged to her death. He was as much a stranger to her as the rest of them. There was no reason he would want to help her any more than those other people who had carefully looked away as though nothing untoward was happening.

  “I won’t do it,” she protested.

  “Don’t do anything rash,” Jasper warned.

  Given the way her face had changed over the last few minutes, Jasper knew that this young woman wasn’t going to be easy to persuade to trust him. It was impossible to cajole her to come out by herself. There was no choice but to go in there after her. But when Jasper stepped toward her, she immediately stepped back. The horses shifted again in protest.

  Molly ducked to try to avoid the crushing force of the heavy animals that had nearly suffocated her the last time they had slammed together in fear. It was when she was bent over at the waist that she saw a way out of her predicament. Before she could consider the wisdom of it, she immediately stood up and slapped the rumps of both horses before instantly throwing herself back onto the floor. Crouching low, she curled into a tight ball and began to pray.

  Jasper cursed violently when the horses jostled and surged forward. He jumped to one side, only to be slammed forcefully out of the way by the heavy bulk of the horse closest to him as it stomped angrily down the street. Jasper staggered to his feet and glanced around for the woman. His heart raced wildly at the thought of her being caught beneath the wheels. The crowd suddenly shifted and gasped as the carriage rumbled into motion and revealed the young woman crouched on the floor.

  Molly sensed the horses had gone and lifted her head. Her gaze fell immediately on the empty street ahead. Without even bothering to glance back at the onlookers, she shoved to her feet, lifted her skirt and ran. She ignored the startled cries and howls of protest from the people she left behind. Fear propelled her to keep running even when her lungs burned, and the streets began to fade into a shadowed darkness that began to whirl alarmingly. She sucked in as much air as she could, but it still didn’t seem to be enough because her body craved more. Her feet hurt from the uneven surface of the pot-holed streets she raced down, her sides hurt from the exertion of her flight, but nowhere near as much as her legs ached from running for so long.

  “Go!” Callum snapped.

  While Jasper sprang into action, Callum spun around and raced back down the street, but not toward the yard and his colleagues. He knew that if the woman turned right at the end of the road he could cut her off by using one of the many alleys on his side of the street and be waiting for her to pass him. Hopefully, Jasper would do the rest.

  Jasper still charged after her. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the thug as he shoved him out of the way b
ut glanced back in time to watch the large man slam into the ground with a loud thump and a startled ‘oomph’ of surprise. With a grin, Jasper made good use of

  his long legs, and turned his determined gaze on the young woman before him whose perilous fight with the man, the carriage horses, and now her own fear, were going to get her killed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Molly had no idea how long she ran for or where she was going but refused to stop. Each pounding step she took fanned the flames of panic. She ran and ran even with nowhere in particular to go, but she still refused to stop or even allow herself to look back to see if anybody was bothering to chase her. Tears coursed down her cheeks making it impossible to see much of anything except for the large bank of water lying directly before her which snaked around the dead-end road.

  Eventually, despite her reluctance to do so, Molly had to stop. When she did, she turned around. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw not one but three men racing toward her. Not only was the incredibly handsome man chasing her, but his friend – the man she had seen him talking to – was running down a side street to her right. Molly backstepped until her bottom hit the rail that ran along the length of the river.

  “Don’t,” Jasper yelled when he saw her panicked glance over her shoulder. The currents of the Thames could be lethal and carry even a strong swimmer away within seconds. Someone as delicate as this young woman, encumbered by her skirts as she would be, would drown within minutes.

  “Just stay still. I will not hurt you,” Jasper assured her.

  He slowed to a walk even though he could hear the heavy thuds of the thug’s booted feet somewhere behind him. The man was bulky, though, and was heaving and gasping with the exertion of having to run so hard. Jasper had half expected him to give up and go away and select another victim. It was telling that he had persisted. It warned Jasper, a well-trained, very experienced member of the Star Elite, that the woman before him had a value to the thug. A very high value that the man was willing to pay.