“That’s what I said, ain’t it?” His steel blue eyes met Ro’s. “Now get on out of here before I call the sheriff.”
Ro hadn’t expected such a defeated attitude from the banker, and that’s the only reason she let her guard down. She was so focused on the old man and his story, that she didn’t even notice the doors opening until it was too late.
“Otis, you got any of that tobacco you gave me a few days ago?”
Ro turned at the sound of the new voice, raising her gun before she could think better of it as panic took hold. She cursed when the sheriff raised his brow at her, still holding the empty bottle in his hand that he’d fallen asleep with.
“Don’t move,” Ro ordered, figuring if she was doing this, she might as well make a stand.
“Whatcha tryin’ to do, girl?” the sheriff asked, eyeing her revolver. To his credit, he didn’t flinch in the face of danger, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe Ro didn’t seem dangerous to them.
“Give me any money you got.”
He laughed. The sheriff laughed at her as she stood dressed in one of her better skirts, with her revolver trained on his chest. He didn’t pull his own gun, didn’t even admonish her.
“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, girl. Ain’t nobody in this goddamn town got any money. You should have tried the next one over.”
Ro’s heart sunk. She’d been so certain she could rob such a small town and it had backfired. She’d picked a town well on its way to extinction, and now she was caught between a nonchalant sheriff and an old bank owner.
“I guess I’ll just take my leave then.” Ro took a step toward the sheriff where he blocked the door.
“Hold on there, girl. If you’re wanted, that’ll bring in some reward money.”
Ro pulled back the hammer on her revolver and the sheriff held up his hands. “I don’t plan on being caught, sheriff.”
“Calm down, girl. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Just wanna collect some money. You of all people should understand that.”
“Move.” Ro didn’t plan on shooting the sheriff, and perhaps it showed in her eyes. He didn’t move from his spot, blocking the only exit. Her hand began to shake.
Ro’s first mistake had been picking Copper Hollow, but her second mistake was not keeping her eyes on both the sheriff and the bank owner. The old man had moved when she hadn’t been looking. The only reason Ro knew that was because a blunt pain exploded from the back of her head the same moment the sheriff laughed again. Everything went black before she hit the floor.
When Ro opened her eyes, it was to find herself sitting behind steel bars in a room that was sweltering hot. Her skirts were stuck to her legs from sweat, her hair was falling from her bun, and her revolver was gone.
“Rise and shine, girl,” a voice called, bringing her attention to the door in front of her. “We need your name for the reward.”
“What happened?” she groaned. The back of her head was tender to the touch, and the light filtering in through the two windows made her squint her eyes in pain.
“Ol’ Otis smacked ya real good on the back of the head with his cane. He’s old but he ain’t stupid. Little bastard is quicker than you think, especially when he’s trying to beat ya to the last whiskey bottle. Pretty thing like you didn’t even stand a chance.”
Ro wrapped her arms around her knees and scooted away from the door, pressing her hair away from her forehead. “Won’t you let me go, sheriff? I was just trying to get a little bit of coin. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“See, I don’t believe you. But I do think you’re a good girl. They won’t send you to the noose. You didn’t even rob nobody. I just want to check if there’s a reward, and if there’s not, then you can be on your way.”
But Ro knew there’d be a reward, knew that Mr. Steele would have put one out for her arrest. She might not be hung, but she wouldn’t be free. She’d be forced to marry maybe, or locked away with the drunks.
“I won’t give you my name.”
“We ain’t gotta make it difficult, girl. I don’t wanna have to beat it out of ya.”
“I said I won’t give it to you.”
The sheriff’s eyes hardened and that was Ro’s third mistake. She should have recognized that the sheriff sported a temper, should have known that he was already deep into another whiskey bottle from the smell. See, whiskey lowered your inhibitions, until you acted first and thought about it later. The sheriff stormed toward her cell, unlocked the door, and yanked it open before she could do more than scramble to her feet.
“You’re gonna tell me your name,” he snarled.
He rushed forward, reaching for Ro, and she shoved him away as best as she could in the small space, but he had more weight to him than she did. All her hands managed to do was add a few more seconds to his attack, enough that she tried to dart around him to freedom, but he’d already anticipated her move. Even drunk on liquor and anger, the sheriff had fast reflexes. His weathered fingers wrapped into her hair and gripped it hard, jerking her backwards and into the steel bars. Her vision blurred with the impact, even as she kicked and screamed and fought to get his hand from her hair.
“Tell me your goddamned name!” he shouted, his breath hitting her in the face and making her gag. He jerked her away from the bars and slammed her against them again, her head colliding with a sickening sound. “This ain’t good enough for you? You want me to make you talk in other ways?” Ro fought the blackness at the edges of her vision, her fingers loosening against his wrist as she lost a little of her strength.
“Fuck off,” she forced out, but it only pissed him off more. This man didn’t deserve any respect or mercy, she thought. He should die with the town.
And that’s when she heard his belt rattling, and knew she was in real trouble. The jingle put renewed vigor in her fight, but it didn’t last long. Before she could really wail on the guy with her fists and attempt to kick him in the balls, gunshots rang from outside.
“What in the devil?” the sheriff snarled, dropping his hold on her hair. His hand came away with blood and Ro wondered for a moment if she’d hurt him in her attempt to flee.
When the sheriff stepped out of the cell and followed the sound of gunshots and shouts, Ro tried to take the few steps to her freedom, intending to get away while everyone was distracted, but her legs gave out. That’s when she realized the blood was coming from her, dripping from the side of her skull where she’d been slammed against the steel bars.
“Who the hell are you?” the sheriff shouted, drawing his pistol, but whoever he’d intended to shoot was a faster draw. A gunshot rang out, making Ro’s ears ring, and the sheriff tumbled backwards with a hole in his chest. He slammed into the wooden floor so hard it made the building shake, and Ro clawed forward, prepared to drag herself over his body and to freedom if she must.
The sunlight streaming in through the open doorway disappeared, and she managed to look up at the man blocking her escape.
“Well, what do we have here?” he drawled, studying her crumpled form and the drops of blood she left behind. His eyes hardened when he saw the blood, his gaze landing on the dying sheriff. “Fucking pig,” he growled, and the sound was equal parts human and animal. If Ro hadn’t been fighting the darkness trying to claim her vision, she might have been afraid.
“Les, we gotta go. This town’s a bust.”
The man, Les, swore, and half turned for the doorway, but his eyes went back to Ro’s broken form again. Ro was only able to make out his chiseled jaw, the glow of his bright golden eyes, and the red hat on his head. She clawed forward again, managing to drag herself a centimeter closer to her freedom.
“Les!” someone shouted. “We gotta go!”
“Hold your britches!” Les shouted back. He moved forward and squatted in front of Ro, studying her eyes. “There a reason you’re in this prison, Skirts?”
Ro kept her mouth shut, not because she thought this man would send her to another jail, but because she couldn’t sp
eak. She tried to make words come out, but nothing happened, her mouth was like cotton.
“That sheriff do this to you?” Ro nodded her head once and it shot pain through her body, forcing her to squint her eyes closed briefly. Les didn’t wait another second, he reached forward and gently scooped Ro from the floor, her blood leaving bright little spots behind as he threw her over his shoulder. She hung upside down as his arm clamped around the back of her thighs, unsure if she’d just been taken from one fire to be tossed into another. “I’ll get you taken care of, Skirts.”
“Revolver,” Ro mumbled, reaching for the gun her father had given her where it sat on the sheriff’s desk. She didn’t think he heard her, but his hearing must have been excellent. He turned and grabbed the gun. When he went to step over the sheriff, who was still barely gasping for breath, he made sure to put another bullet in the man from her gun. Even as Ro started to pass out, the act sent a bolt of pleasure into her.
This man had not only decided to save her, he’d also given her some revenge. The sheriff stopped breathing as they walked into the sunshine.
“What the fuck are you gonna do with her? Cook her for dinner?”
That was the last thing Ro heard before the darkness claimed her completely, and before her life changed forever.
Eleven
Ro stared at the bartender hard enough to make him spontaneously combust, hoping he got her message about refilling her glass, but he was studiously ignoring her.
“Hey buddy! How ‘bout you just leave us the bottle?” Clem demanded, irritated from waiting for the man to finish drying the same glass he’d been working on for the past five minutes. The bartender raised his brows, and Clem growled before slamming down a silver dollar on the counter. He immediately moved to set the large whiskey bottle down in front of them. “About time,” Clem grumbled.
Ro poured herself another fifth and then repeated the action for Clem. They clinked their glasses together before tipping them back and emptying them.
“Maybe you should slow down,” Clem advised, watching as Ro started to fill the glasses again. “You still have a job to do.”
“The whiskey is going to help me with my job,” Ro replied. “I can’t start overthinking things now. I need to work on instinct. Whiskey will help with that.”
“Okay, then three glasses are definitely enough to help with that.” Clem snatched the bottle from Ro’s hand. “I know you’re worried,” she whispered, “but the best way to help the situation is to remain levelheaded.”
“You’re right.” Ro sighed and pushed the glass over to Clem, which she promptly tossed back. “Hell! If I can’t drink, neither can you.”
“I can drink for my job. I just have to be charming. I don’t have to be levelheaded to get the working girls talkin’.”
Ro rolled her eyes. Clem was so certain of her charm, but one day she’d find a woman who wouldn’t put up with her shit. Ro couldn’t wait for that day.
The doors to the saloon opened and they both turned toward the sound to find Virgil King standing in the doorway. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Ro and held. If Ro didn’t already know what he was, she would have pegged him for a predator anyways.
Clem tensed beside her. “And on that note, I’m off to find Dolly.”
Ro nodded her head once before she turned on her stool and leaned back against the bar. She kept her eyes on the Rex sizing her up in the doorway, making sure she appeared relaxed even though she wasn’t.
The corner of King’s lips quirked up at her stance and he moved farther into the room, his eyes flashing as he drew closer. “Fancy finding you here.”
“There’s only one saloon. There aren’t many places I could be hiding.”
He took in her state of undress. She’d chosen to come down in nothing more than her shirt, trousers, and boots, leaving her red hat and chaps up in her room. It seemed each time one of the Rexes caught her, she was wearing less.
“Nevertheless, I’m happy I found you. I was looking forward to continuing our discussion.”
“About property?” Ro arched her brow.
“Sure.” The twinkle in King’s eyes would have done her in if she wasn’t made of stronger stuff. “About property.”
“I’m afraid it’s getting a little late to discuss business,” Ro said, keeping the conversation going as he took the seat Clem vacated.
“You’re correct. We can discuss other things if you’d prefer, Red.”
“Like what?” Ro turned her head toward King, realizing a little too late it brought her face close to his. He looked down into her eyes, the green of his eyes bright. A smile stretched across his lips as he studied her, the tension between them so thick it nearly choked her.
“Like what brought you to Embertown.”
Ro went with the change in topic easily, hoping it would break the tension. It didn’t. “I’m sure you know that Embertown has a reputation. We wanted to see if the rumors were true, if dinosaurs were treated equally here.”
“And what did you find?”
Ro smiled. “That’s it’s more than we hoped for actually.”
“Embertown is most definitely a jewel in the desert.” King leaned a little closer, the movement so slight Ro wouldn’t have noticed it if it wasn’t for her years on the run. She’d learned to pick up on most things, and she could feel the lessening distance between them. “You and your friend should stay.”
“Maybe be will. Maybe we won’t.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Where’s your hat, Red?”
“Left it in my room. Why do you ask?”
“I kind of hoped you’d wear it for me,” he replied, and then he leaned closer until there was only a breath between them. “And nothing else.”
“A little presumptuous of you,” she breathed, “thinking I’ll ever get to that point.”
“You’re already to that point,” he whispered back. “I can see it in your eyes. Let go of your reservations, Red. Come with me.”
“And if I say no?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Then we can sit here and drink whiskey until your eyes are floating, and I’ll make sure you make it safely back to your room.”
His answer surprised her so much that she frowned and leaned away. “Really?”
“Just because I’m a Rex doesn’t mean I’m a barbarian.”
Ro studied his eyes and saw the sincerity there. He truly meant what he said, and it put her at ease far more than anything else could have. That was the moment she made her decision, and even though she knew it would probably be a mistake, she grinned at the man beside her and turned fully toward him. Her knees brushed against his thigh, her chest against his arm as she leaned forward and kept her face close to his. His nostrils flared at the contact, but true to his word, he didn’t reach forward and touch, waiting to see what she said.
“Clem will no doubt have a lady friend in our room.”
His pupils expanded. “We can go to my home.”
“I have a better idea.” Ro grinned.
“Oh?” His lips curled, and he reached forward to feather his fingers across the back of her hand. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve always had this fantasy, you see.”
King purred, his fingers trailing circles on the skin of her hand before moving up to her elbow. “What happens in this fantasy?”
“Money, gold coins, spread beneath me…” Ro trailed her fingers up his suit coat, pressing her nails against the veins on his throat. “As we scream our pleasure.”
King’s throat rumbled at her words. “So you picked the richest man in the town?”
Ro leaned back suddenly and shrugged. “If you’re not into the idea, I could just go find the sheriff. I have another fantasy about a jail—”
The growl that interrupted her this time was loud enough to draw a few eyes. “You test me, Red?”
“I’m not testing anything,” she countered, crooking her brow at him. “You offered and I told you
a fantasy I’ve never told anyone before. Not like the opportunity comes around often. Maybe I misread the situation.” She stood from the stool. “See you around, King.” Ro took a step toward the door, but a hand tipped with claws wrapped around her wrist. She looked down at his fingers with a scowl. “You wanna lose those fingers, Rex?”
“Say yes,” he said, his voice more of a rumbling growl than actual words. His pupils were large in his eyes, and the green glowed bright. “Say you want me.”
“I thought I made that clear,” she replied, squinting her eyes.
King didn’t wait for any more words. He stood in one fluid motion and lifted Ro into the air faster than she was prepared for. He tossed her over his shoulder, his hands clamped around her thighs, and she squeaked at the sudden change in position.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, you overgrown lizard?” Ro beat at his back, pissed that he’d throw her around like a sack of potatoes.
Every eye in the saloon glanced around and then quickly looked away when they saw the look in his eyes. King pushed through the swinging doors and leaped from the stairs, walking briskly down the street. Ro stopped struggling when he took the first stair up to the bank. She gasped when his arm around her loosened before sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh.
“How does your fantasy go?” he growled, pulling a key from his pocket before unlocking the door.
“This is a good start,” she whispered.
And then he stepped inside the bank and closed the door. Just before the door locked completely, Ro lifted and caught the eyes of the sheriff across the street, the blues glittering so fiercely, she worried he’d storm forward. But he never did.
The sheriff watched the door close completely, and then Ro promptly forgot he was even there.
King pulled Ro from his shoulders, but he didn’t set her on her feet like she expected. Instead, he sat her on the edge of his ornate desk, the room dark, the only light coming from the dying beams of the sun filtering in through the bars.
Ro spread her legs around King’s hips, tipping her head back to look up at him. Her hands smoothed over his waistcoat, her annoyance at so many layers separating them threatening to overwhelm her. King’s large hands stayed infuriatingly on her thigh, not caressing like she wanted, not moving higher. “What’s the matter, King?” She tilted her head up. “Have a change of heart?”
Rexes & Robbers Page 8
