It was the sound of merry laughter and drunken rants that woke her. Jewel sat up, rubbing her sleep filled eyes. She looked down. Emile lying comfortably on his side, soft snores emanating from his parted lips. A frown crossed her lips for a moment as she stared at his sleeping frame.
The laughter she heard grew and she couldn't help the curiosity that bubbled within her. She turned, reaching for the curtain that covered the window hovering above the bed. She peaked outside and her eyes widened.
There were two men walking through the street. Two familiar looking men. She stared at the men as they staggered slightly. As she continued to stare it suddenly dawned on her. It was the men from the dock. The men who ruined her escape!
She sat up in bed watching as the men stopped as if waiting for someone or something. She furrowed her brows in confusion. What could they possibly be waiting for?
She shifted on the bed once more but froze as she felt moisture run down her leg. Jewel gasped as she turned in the bed and was greeted with the sight of blood running down her inner thigh. Before she could stop herself she laughed with relief and triumph. Her monthly time had come and never had she been more thrilled to see it.
Emile suddenly stirred and looked up at her, his hair messy and falling forward onto his forehead. He ran a hand through his hair and sat up, the covers spilling across his nakedness.
At the sound of her continued laughter he frowned. "What's so funny, woman?" He asked, his voice deeper.
She glanced in his direction before laughing harder. "It's come! My one defense against you and your lust!"
He raised a brow. "And this defense is?"
She pointed to her inner thigh and sent a smug look his way.
He frowned. "How long will this last?"
"Do you honestly think I would tell you?"
He climbed out of bed, shrugging his shoulders absentmindedly. "I am a patient man, mon ange. I will give you a week."
She groaned tossing a pillow at his back. "You frustrating man!"
He chuckled before moving toward the connecting bathroom. Little did she know that he would be content to merely hold her in his arms at night.
She frowned as he returned carrying a thick washcloth. She didn't think twice as he handed her cloth, placing it between her legs and reaching for her discarded clothing. She quickly dressed and resumed her spot by the window, the men still standing idly in the street.
"Jewel?" Emile said her name curiously, finding the seriousness in her gaze amusing as she stared out the window. She didn't answer him though, much to occupied with the happenings outside the inn. He pulled his clothing on before approaching her and looking down into the street below.
"What are you looking...at...," his words trailed off as he spotted the men.
Rage suddenly exploded across his face and he snatched her away from the window. She went to struggle against him but froze at the expression on his face. "Put your boots on."
"Why?" She whispered.
The look he gave her had her instantly moving to slip into her boots. Once she had them on he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, moving toward the door with long angry strides. She stayed silent as he continued toward the exit, walking past the front desk.
He stopped at the door and reached into one of his boots, pulling out a gun. Jewel's eyes widened as she watched him settle the gun comfortably in his hand, a murderous glint in his eye. "Stay behind me."
Before she could object they walked out into the street meeting the two men head on. Emile pointed the gun at the older man, cocking it.
"Hello Jacques." His voice was laced with ice.
Her eyes widened as it dawned on her that the old man before them was the man that Emile had been searching for. The old man that had basically given her to his young henchman was the same Jacques that had left Emile blinded in his left eye.
Jacques raised his hands, a scarred look on his wrinkled face. The man beside did the same but his expression was one of anger. He let his eyes pursue them before sneering, "You!"
Emile ignored him his eye on Jacques. But Jewel recognized him instantly. He was the man who had dragged her along side his horse. He was the man who had laughed at her when she had declared that she wasn't a whore. He was the man that had nearly ripped her hair from her scalp. Fear raced through her veins and she took a step back, wide eyed at the scene before her.
"If you shoot us, you'd better make sure we're dead boy." Jacques's henchman snapped, the glint in his eyes mirroring pure evil. Still Emile ignored him.
Jacques, the coward that he was said nothing, his old age had him shivering.
"Do you remember me?" Emile asked Jacques.
"Should I remember you?"
Emile shot a bullet into the man's foot. He screamed before falling onto the ground cupping his injury. Jewel gasped, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest wildly.
The other man growled underneath his breath and took a brave step forward but froze when the gun was suddenly pointed in his direction.
"I'm not here for you. It's him," he pointed the gun at his prey, "that I'm after. If you value your life, you'll stand still."
The man gritted his teeth but stood frozen.
He pulled his eye patch off and let it hit the ground beneath his feet. "You did this to me. You took away my home. You killed my mother. You should have killed me when you'd had the chance."
Emile pointed the gun at Jacques once more and just as he aimed the gun at his head Jewel screamed, the other man jumped forward knocking the gun out of Emile's hand.
And then they were wrestling in the street. Grunts and groans echoing around them as punches were being thrown. Jewel watched with wide eyes as the fight seemed to grow more violent by the second.
Jacques stood then, limping slowly down the street. Before she thought about it she lunged forward, grabbing Emile's gun into her shaking hands and pointing it at Jacques's retreating figure.
"Stop right there!" She shouted after him before firing the gun. Jacques froze, the bullet flying past his head, missing him by an inch.
All eyes were suddenly on her. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Emile and the other man jumped apart, there eyes locked on her.
"Don't you dare...," the other man hissed at her threateningly.
Her breath caught and her hands began to truly tremble.
"Let go, ma cherie." Emile whispered into her ear as he reached for the gun.
He pulled it from her shaking fingers and pushed her behind him. With no hesitation he shot Jacques square in the back. He went down with a groan, hitting the street with an eery quiet.
Jewel stopped breathing for a moment, watching as the man fell to his death. Emile then pointed the gun toward the other man, cocking it once more. The man's eyes were lite with a raging fire.
Before Emile could take a shot a group of men appeared with women on there arms and rum in there hands. The simple distraction was enough for the man to pull a knife from a hidden pocket in his trousers. And with a quick hand he tossed it, it spiraled as if in slow motion.
Emile pushed Jewel back and fired his gun, shooting the man in his arm. Jewel hit the ground, falling onto her bottom, the knife heading toward her. She was frozen in shock for a split second before attempting to avoid the knifes path. But it was too late, the knife landing in the space between her neck and her shoulder.
*Comment, Like and Share! This chapter was sooooo difficult to write lol. I've been extremely sick most of this week...ugh.
But on a lighter note I was looking up information on how woman dealt with menstruation in the 1800s and I instantly regretted it...most women just...bleed into their dresses(underwear didn't come around until the late 1800s and even then mostly prostitutes or "loose" women wore them). Ew.
Or they would make homemade pads using wool clothe, or cotton and sometimes even stay in there rooms the whole time they were on there periods. Omg...can you imagine staying in your room for that long? I seriously can't...even. No.*