Page 63 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
“Rauri is nae the only victim here.”
Amelie added, “Just like Damien is one too, aye? Ye took a poor, hurtin’ boy and pretended to love him just because ye needed someone to mold into doin’ yer will.”
Amelie could see her father and Damien following through the trees, keeping distance.
Ben laughed cruelly. “Smart lass, arenae ye? Does it matter, anyhow? I’ve had a hard life, worked for pittance every day until I was told I wanae useful anymore. I had to find another way to get what was owed to me and nay one fitted the need until Damien came along. He was so willin’ and eager to please that I couldnae but help give him things to do while I reaped all the benefits. It worked when he was a boy and it kept workin’ as he grew.”
Amelie’s father reached into the folds of his kilt and pulled out a sack that chinked. “Here, have it, leave me daughter alone.” He tossed the sack forward, and it landed on the ground between them.
Ben’s eyes dipped to the sack as they all came to a stop and Amelie could see his predicament. His hands were occupied but he wanted the gold.
“How did ye find me?” Ben asked.
“Just how they found me,” Damien replied. “His Lairdship has the best trackers. Give up, Ben, ye cannae win here. Daenae force us to take extreme measures.”
25
Trying her best not to move and let the knife nick her, Amelie felt Ben shifting behind her. He tried to move to the sack of silver but in doing so he would have to leave Amelie—and she was his only security solution.
“Move to the sack,” Ben ordered her.
Slowly, she began to step toward the sack, and she knelt to get it, that’s when she decided to stop this madness. She knew she was going to get hurt but she had to try and give Damien a chance to step in, just as he was clearly itching to do.
As she knelt with the knife against her neck, Amelie reached for the sack of silver, then snapped her head back to slam her head into Ben’s face.
The blade did nick her, but she managed to get out of his hold, and she fell on the snow-covered grass, Damien flew over her body to tackle Ben to the ground.
Scrambling away from the two, Amelie felt her father’s hands grab her and pull her into his side. Hugging him tightly, Amelie looked to the two who were wrestling on the ground.
Amelie expected that Ben would have been overpowered in moments—but he was not.
The old man fought back and managed to plant a fist into Damien’s face. Trembling in fright, Amelie watched the knife in Ben’s hand flash dangerously close to taking out an eye or plunging into Damien’ throat.
“Faither…” she winced. “Call for help.”
“Nae yet,” Colin replied. “Damien has some frustration to work out with Ben, and I am inclined to let him. Besides, this place is surrounded by me men—Ben cannae escape.”
* * *
Untamed fury darkened Damien’s vision to mottled red. He grabbed Ben’s head to slam into the ground, but he had to jerk away when the knife flashed inches from his face.
Grabbing his wrist, Damien tried to wrench the weapon away, only to have Ben knee him in the stomach.
The pain from the hit was shocking to Damien who had not thought frail Bren had that much strength. He doubled over for a moment, only for Ben to dart up and try to run away.
Lurching forward, Damien caught his foot and dragged him back, only for Ben to land a kick on his jaw, sending Damien spinning.
His anger overrode the pain in his body, and he trapped Ben again, landing a knee in his stomach and pummeling him with fists. His rage stopped him from seeing Ben’s fingers reaching for the dropped knife, and when he did—it was too late.
Ben slammed into Damien’s shoulder and the searing pain ripped a scream from his throat, but he still fought. Ben had used him for years and betrayed him, and for that he needed to pay.
Blindly, Damien carried on with his strikes and heard a satisfying and sickeningcrack—then, Ben was down.
Crouched over the unconscious man, Damien took in the battered face and broken jaw of the man he once considered his friend and a father. Now, he was nothing but a traitor and soon, a prisoner, possibly dead not much after.
Sweat dripped from Damien’s face and blood sprinkled on the snow beside Ben’s head. He wanted to get more answers from Ben, but their earlier conversation had told him enough.
Weakly, he pushed away from the still body and sat on his heels before trying to get to his feet. The throbbing pain in his shoulder began to pound and the agony that came from it started to make him wobbly.
