Page 42 of The Fury She Holds
“A dead man,” Tal said flatly.
“Does he have any accomplices?”
“Forget about it, Daire.”
“I cannot stand by and pretend someone hasn’t assaulted you. It’s just as much an attack on me.”
Tal guffawed at his audacity. “And how, Captain, do you gather that?”
“If you are to be my wife, I will not hesitate—”
“This again?” Tal’s lips pulled up in disgust.
Daire paused, confused. He sputtered a moment, his mouth hanging open, then said, “I will not stand by while my future wife…” He let his voice trail off.
Tal eyed the water at her feet. If she had her strength, she would have thrown the imbecile into the river. “Is that why you wanted me at the ball? To show off your future bride? Unless you want me sharing how freely you throw your lot in withthe riffraff, you’ll forget about this laughable idea.” She stepped closer. “Let me be perfectly clear: you do not, nor will you ever, have any claim over me no matter how many times you stuck your cock inside me.” Daire winced, but she continued, “I will not marry you, nor will I marry anyone. I am not a piece of property to own or purchase, and I certainly will not be told what to do for the sake of your reputation. Go find some dimwitted little bird who is happy to sit quietly by your side and starve as you parade her around like a pony you won at a contest. Bring this up again, and I will do more than just ruin your dress uniform. Do you understand? Maybe, instead of worrying about me, you should be eliminating the mages.”
The shock on his face quickly faded to hurt. His lips set in a grim line. “Who told you about the mages?”
Tal shook her head. Of course he would question her about what she knew. She didn’t bother arguing. She probably should have felt badly for what she said, but she was tired, in pain, and the man needed to take a damn hint. Either he was too stubborn for his own good, or so thick-headed that he actually thought she would give in at some point. “Stop trying to be sohonorableand find someone who deserves you.” She didn’t let him respond as she limped away.
Tal dreaded comforting the broken-hearted woman in front of her. She was not in the right mind to console anyone. She explained where the young woman’s husband went every night, who he spent the night with, and gave her the bottle of elixir Septimus had promised would cause the man to become violently ill any time he became aroused. She expected the wife to break down crying, but aside from wiping away a single tear,the woman set her mouth into a thin line and nodded, taking the vial with a firm, “Thank you.”
Tal hesitated. “You knew,” she stated.
She nodded. “Ain’t no woman who doesn’t know when she’s lied to. Thank you for tellin’ me what I needed to hear.” She cocked her head. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Tal studied the young woman’s features, finding recognition but unable to place it.
“My father—” She hesitated, inhaling and raising her head. “You saved my mother when he was in a rage.”
Tal’s eyes widened, recognition blooming. Eight years ago, a ten-year-old beseeched Tal to stop her father who had been beating his wife. The village’s sheriff wouldn’t do anything, claiming what a husband and wife did behind closed doors was no business of his. The girl offered to pay the bounty with money she had earned selling flowers. After a quick investigation, Tal learned the man also had a gambling problem and had been hiding from Pochette because of the large debt he owed.
Tal would have waited to ambush him on the streets, but the daughter burst into the tavern one night, panicked. The bounty hunter finished her ale in a single gulp and stormed off toward the girl’s home. She could hear the wife’s screams all the way down the street. Tal sneered at the quiet homes nearby. Not a single person tried to help. Kicking in the door, she clocked the man in the jaw and broke his arm but not before he broke her cheekbone. Despite his size, Tal was the better fighter, and he was severely intoxicated. She dragged him to Pochette’s gambling den and deposited the man in front of Greggs, the gangster’s debt collector. She left without a word, the man’s pathetic pleading following her until it cut short.
She found the little girl and half-dead mother at their home, still no help in sight, and dropped a healing elixir from Septimus that she picked up on the way back to the broken family. Sheassured the pair they would never hear from the bastard again and collected payment from the girl. Tal paused at the door when the mother cried that they were ruined and asked how they would survive without a husband. The daughter tried to console her mother, but the woman could only reply, “What have you done?!”
Tal waited long enough to ensure the woman wouldn’t turn on her daughter, then returned to the tavern.
“You stayed,” Tal said to the woman in front of her. “I would have thought you and your mother would go to the mountains.”
She swallowed. “My mother didn’t… get better after that night. She refused to leave and chose to wallow in her own self-pity. I did all I could, but ain’t nobody who can force someone to live. When she died, the house became mine and has been since. The memories my children created there are enough.” She tried to hand Tal the bag of coin she pulled from her pocket.
Tal shook her head. “You have a family to feed.”
“And we had a deal. I promise, we’ll be just fine. Ain’t nothin’ I won’t do for those kids.”
Tal reluctantly took the payment and whispered, “Make him regret it,” to which the woman winked and turned, walking down the street. She walked with her back straight and head held high. Beyond her, the weeping willow swayed in a breeze Tal couldn’t feel. If it could speak, it would surely have wise words to share, words Tal had no desire to hear.
So many left the docks over the years, running from their problems. The mountains offered a new life for anyone who fled. And here, a ten-year-old girl picked up the pieces left by the parents that abandoned her and focused on the love she had for her children. She held no bitterness, no rage, just moved forward. Tal’s fury lay quiet in her chest, an odd feeling.
Tal limped home, distracted. She and the young woman were two sides of the same coin. While Tal fought tooth and nail to keep male influence out of her life, this woman accepted it and moved on when it no longer served her. She had never thought to consider that perspective.
That night that she helped the little girl, she bumped into Daire on the street. After seeing the swollen, broken skin and Tal’s black eye, Daire fumed, asking who had hurt her, and Tal relayed the story. She had actually forgotten the bastard had hit her. Besides, it could easily be fixed by a healing elixir.
“Maybe this life is too dangerous for you,” Daire had said. His lips thinned, and his grip on her arm grew a bit too tight.
Tal’s mood immediately sobered. “Too dangerous?” Daire had never spoken to her like this before.
