Page 69 of Royal Hunt
“Yes,” I said cautiously, because I was.
“Let’s go then.…” he slurred, grabbing at my upper arm and squeezing it too tightly. I winced, but allowed him to drag me out into the hall and down the stairs. He’d be easier to handle if he was happy-drunk, instead of angry-drunk.
It was touch and go as Gregory hauled me down the stairs, and, in the back of my mind, I half-wondered if this was Trenton’s plan—to have his son accidentally murder me. As my feet touched the bottom step, I breathed a sigh of relief. Trenton was conniving, but he wasn’t that smart.
Gregory pulled me by my hand to a table right in the middle of the room. My eyes zeroed in on the heavy beef stew and the large hunk of bread. I didn’t even jerk away as his hand wrapped possessively around my waist. I’d allow it if I meant I ate.
Instead of letting me sit down, Gregory held me back while he sat, then he pulled me to sit on his knee like a child, his arm across my waist holding me in place. I blushed in embarrassment, but snatched the bread and started to inhale it, ignoring Trenton’s disgusted looks.
As I moved onto the stew, I was acutely aware that the men weren’t eating. Trenton was staring at his food but not touching it; Gregory kept all his attention on me.
“I thought I’d lost you during the games.…” he uttered huskily, his head bowing down to whisper in my ear.
I kept eating.
“The half-fae … he has magick. We all saw it. I knew he was taking you from me. I knew it. That’s why I had to get you away. You understand now. Everything’s going to be fine.”
His arm tightened around my hips, and his free hand skimmed my thigh and traced the outline of my leg under my dress.
I stilled, the spoon frozen halfway to my mouth.
“Gregory—” I stared.
“Ssh. It’s ok. No one will know.”
His hand flipped the hem of my dress under the table, skirting up my warm breeches, which I’d never been so thankful for in my life.
“Gregory, stop—”
I dropped my spoon and shot a panicked look to Trenton, who was mechanically eating his own stew and refusing to look at me. What happened to him not wanting his son to sully himself with me? What had happened to our deal? I glanced up at the bar and unexpectedly met Gertrude’s eyes. They were sad and haunted.
I imagined her trapped under old Ghee and silently crying as he rutted on top of her like an animal. That was my future unless I got away now.
Gregory’s fingers crept toward my waistband, his intent clear.
If I cried, no one would care.
If I screamed, Gregory would keep going. He would stop if he was sober. But he wasn’t sober.
And he was going to take what I’d lately denied him.
I closed my eyes, tears running down my cheeks.
No.No.
I whipped around and elbowed Gregory in the face. He swore and dropped me, and I scrambled to get to my feet. He stood and grabbed me, hauling me level with his face, then backhanded me so hard I saw stars. Warmth exploded across my nose. I realized vaguely he might have broken it.
Trenton was yelling. Gertrude had vaulted over the bar and was yelling. Other men were standing, but it was hard to tell. I was on the floor.
Feet kicked at my ribs, and I couldn’t breathe.
Well, dying this way was better than being raped, I guess.
Then the door to the inn exploded inward, and the real chaos began.
Twenty Two
The pain in my ribs made it hard to breathe, and my lungs couldn’t expand deep enough. I was forced to take light, panting sips of air as everyone waited with bated breath for the dust to clear enough to see who’d knocked the door clear off its hinges.
