Read Online A Warrior's Return by Guy Stanton III - Free Book Online Page B

arms held me and his voice was a
reassuring whisper against my ear, “See I told you that you would
make a great warrior, if I hadn’t stepped in and intervened I
shudder to think what you would’ve done to the rest of these
rats.”
    A slightly hysterical sounding laugh escaped
me at his ridiculous words and I cringed from the pain that the
laugh caused me.
    “Don’t make me laugh.” I wheezed into his
shoulder.
    “We need to get you out of here! Can you
stand?” I nodded, but it was him that lifted me up to my feet.
    I didn’t think I was going to be able to
walk very far. He must’ve sensed that, because he lifted me up by
the back of my thighs, “Can you put your legs around me?”
    I lifted them and crossed them behind his
back.
    “I need my hands free, until we get away
from the house, can you hold on with your arms and legs?”
    No I really couldn’t, but I was going to
anyway.
    I nodded my head yes, as I gripped him with
one arm over one shoulder and the other wrapped around him under
his other arm. I tucked my head down against his chest.
    As his hands left from supporting my bottom
and my weight sank onto my arms and legs my torso stretched out and
I bit into my lower lip, until I tasted blood. I couldn’t help that
my body was uncontrollably shaking or that I was whimpering from
the pain into his shoulder.
    He started walking toward the study doors
pulling two pistols out of side holsters as he did so.
    His voice sounding choked with emotion he
said, “I’m so sorry honey! I didn’t think they would connect you
with me!”
    The thing I heard was the word ‘honey’. What
did he mean by saying such a familiar term?
    I could only hope as to the depth of meaning
such a term could be referring to. He kicked the door open and then
there was no more room for thought. I watched Victor’s house of
glass shatter from my filtered view through my tangled hair. Gunmen
popped out of everywhere blasting away with automatic pistols and
rifles.
    Clark just smoothly kept walking, always
moving, as he twisted and turned about in the rooms he made his way
through, as he headed for the door. The big pistols in his hands
bucked slowly and repeatedly. Every measured shot a kill shot.
    I don’t know how we weren’t hit! Everything
around us was shattering and I could hear the whine of bullets that
came within inches of us. The walls of glass shattered and tinkled
to the floor in sparkling piles, as ceramic pots and vases exploded
all around us.
    Finally the big hand guns fell silent, but
not because Clark was out of ammunition, but because there was no
one else left to kill. He kicked the front door open. Nothing
happened.
    He holstered one gun and helped support me
with his free hand. We were suddenly outside in the tepid night
air. At some point I must’ve blacked out because the next thing I
knew was when I opened my eyes to see Raphael’s worried little face
in front of mine. I reached out and touched it loving the ability
to do that. I hadn’t thought I would see Raphael ever again. He
clutched my hand tightly with both of his and I squeezed back a
little.
    My eyes drifted upward aided by a jolt of
pain. Clark sat astride me and he was pushing on my rib cage.
Something moved under his fingers and I screamed and clutched
Raphael’s little hand to tightly. I abruptly let go, but he
didn’t.
    “That’s all Evangelina I promise!” Clark
said.
    I looked up at him through pain slitted
eyes. Sweat was rolling off of Clark in streams of perspiration and
he was shaking. That last part, maybe that was me.
    Yes, I was the one shaking and not him. Then
Clark did something almost unforgivable. He pulled me to an upright
sitting position on the bed. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t
fearing that would hurt me even worse. Then Clark was behind me
somehow and Rafael was standing on the bed between my legs trying
to hold up my arms.
    Clark wrapped a folded up white sheet around
my torso, which is when I realized I was