Chapter 2

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"Lovely friends you have, sir, but maybe I could get a better first impression? They haven't even introduced themselves!"
"You heard the lady. Go on!"
"Phil," the man without the knife growled.
"Charles, but if you're friendly enough, I'll let you call me Charlie."
Charles's free hand slipped from my arm to my collar bone and then to the swell of my breasts.
"Oh, I don't intend on being nice. I hope you don't mind being called Charles."
With that, I stomped on his foot.
The bastard didn't even budge an inch!
I felt the knife press ever so slightly harder against my neck.
"Miss Hemmings, where is it."
Not a question. It was a command.
"It? I don't keep track of your top hats or canes. That one is all up to you sir. Plus I have no interest in hiding them or taking them from you."
"You little bitch!"
He pushed Phil and Charles away from me, slamming me against the nearest brick wall, but he made sure to take the knife from Charles. My head hit the stone and I felt some warm, sticky liquid ooze out of the back of my head. My head will definitely hurt tomorrow... Along with my entire body... Is it hard to wash blood out of my hair? I've only had to wash blood out of my undergarments before!
"Tell me!"
"I have no clue what you're talking about!"
Thomas pinned me against the wall by firmly holding my shoulder with an iron grip, thankfully not employing the knife to do so. He leaned in to whisper into my ear.
"It's best you do as I say. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for a man like me to over power a woman like you?"
"Is that why you need two other men with you? To over power me? Three men against one lady is hardly fair!"
His knife slowly slid from my neck to the chest of my dress, right between my breasts.
"You're even more beautiful in person. You're lucky, you know. If you weren't, I wouldn't be as hesitant when it comes to scarring you. I just don't want to scar that pretty face of yours... too much. I don't want you dead. Yet. I'll keep you alive for a little." He kept whispering, still standing too close to me. He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. I pushed Mr Conway away.
"That's not an appropriate way to treat a lady, sir!"
Phil and Charles returned to hold me still. Thomas laughed darkly as the knife cut down the front of my dress, exposing my corset.
"Do you have any idea how expensive this is!"
With his free hand, he grabbed my throat.

God, what on Earth does this man want? Is he going to kill me for not knowing? What is Uncle John going to do to me when he sees my destroyed dress?
Uncle John is definitely not the person I should be worrying about right now, since he is not currently holding a knife to my throat!

"Stop acting stupid, and stop playing this damned little game of yours! You're making me lose my patience, Miss Hemmings!"
"Is that what you were asking me to find? Your patience? Sorry sir, it seems it's as good as dead!"
Thomas plunged the knife into my stomach. Luckily (?) it had a short blade, and I doubted it hit anything important (they needed me alive, right?) but damnation! It hurt!
"What... The hell is... Your problem?" I managed to gasp out. I pressed my hand against the wound to stop the bleeding, but it barely did anything.
Thomas grabbed me by my hair and threw me to the ground. I kicked his shins, making him fall and cry out in pain. He dropped the knife, and before Phil or Charles could get to it, I grabbed it. I slashed out at his hands if he tried reaching for me. I hating hurting people, but I'll be damned if he didn't regret the day he crossed me wrong! I stood up, shaking (mostly pain, a bit from fear, and a bit from anger).
Phil pulled out a gun.
"Put the knife down, sweetie."
"Don't you dare call me that!"
I felt Thomas grip on to my dress, since he was still on the ground, but I kicked the side of his head.
Hard.
Phil shot, but missed.

I need to learn how to use one of those!

"You are a bloody son of a-"
I stopped myself before saying the most unladylike pharases I could think of. I took off my shoe and threw it at Phil. It hit him square in the face. It was a hard, solid hit too. He dropped his gun in shock and pain. I noticed, with satisfaction, that there was a gash on his forehead. Before Charles got to it, I picked up the gun. These men were slow! I was just stabbed and I moved faster than them! Maybe because I was lithe and small, and these other men were huge, like "you thought Giants only existed in fantasy novels, huh?" huge.
Slightly off kilter, Phil tried to throw a punch at me, but I side stepped it. His fist slammed into the building behind me.
"Tsk tsk tsk, punching a lady? Did your mother teach you any manners?" I scolded him like he was a child, not a grown man that wanted to literally murder me.
I held the gun under my chin as I grabbed his arm- one hand at his wrist, the other on his upper bicep. I twisted his arm so it was facing palm up, and I crashed my knee into his elbow. I heard a sickening snap and my stomach churned as he let out blood curdling screams.
"Oi mates! What are ye doin treatin a lass like that?"
This newcomer/Irishman eyed Thomas's body next to me and Phil screaming bloody murder. Charles was in shock, but he seemed unharmed. Physically.
Emotionally?
Well, he just watched a girl beat up two men with an inch of their lives. And that girl had a knife and a gun.
The man looked young, probably not even ten years my senior. He was lean, but it was obvious he was well built. He was noticably pale, even though it was dark, and he had light blond, but almost red hair. He seemed pretty clean shaven, but I could see some stubble reflecting in the scant light of the moon.
And he was tall.
I thought Officer Hansen was tall? My nose reached his chin.
My forehead would just barely make it to this Irishman's chin.
His eyes traveled up to my exposed corset and also noticed the fact I was indeed still holding a knife and gun.
"What did ye-"
"He's alive! They both are! I didn't kill either of them! It's obvious enough with Mr Phil, he wouldn't be screaming so much if he was dead, but Mr Conway is alive too!"
"Enough of this," started Charles, but the Irishman pulled out a pistol.
"Miss Hemmings? Git on the horse!"
"How do you know my name?"
"Now!"
I guessed I was too busy with some other activities to realize a man on a horse stopped by us.
I ran safely to it. Finally able to breathe, I started finding things to press against my stab wound. Surprisingly, the saddle was a two person one.
He didn't come here with a partner though?
I watched the scene unfold.
Thomas was still unconscious and on the ground, and Phil was still screaming while babying his strangely twisted arm.
Charles looked angry, but Phil looked scared.

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