Authors: Ashlynn Monroe
Fallen-Angels (5 page)
He shoved a rosary
into her hands.
It was beautiful, precious,
made of rich materials, gold, jewels, and hard to find parts.
“I can’t take this
Heath, you use this.”
“It was my mother’s.
I’ve always felt like she was looking down on
me and watching out for me as long as I’ve had it.
Please take it.
If you have it I’ll feel like I’m watching
over you.”
Tears sprang to her
eyes and she threw herself into his arms in an awkward embrace.
He patted her back and cleared his throat.
She stepped back,
blushing.
He wanted her, it was obvious.
He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss
her forehead.
Regret hung heavily on his
words when he spoke.
“If you ever need me,
you find me.
I’d come with you, help you
look for them.”
She shook her head. “Heath,
I need to do this, for myself, for my sisters.
I’ve already intruded on your life for long enough.
I have to see what I’m made of.
If I
don’t leave now, I never will.” She took a deep breath, needing to leave things
honest between them, “I care deeply for you, but not the way you want.
I don’t want to stay and tie your heart to
something impossible.
I’m not the loving
kind, not anymore.
You will always be my
dearest friend.
I hope you can forgive
me for not being able to give you more.”
Heath didn’t look
placated by her words.
She finished
tying her things onto the back of the motorcycle she had taken in trade for her
horse.
It was a fine piece of engineering and the man
who had built it had taught her a few things about caring for it.
The rest she was sure she would learn.
Heath stepped forward
and grabbed her, pulling her face up to meet his lips.
He kissed her, his desire washing around her
like water flowing around a stone in the river.
The look on his face when
he finally pulled back was tragic. She could see his devastation as he accepted
that his last ditch effort hadn’t worked and she would never want more than his
friendship.
He stepped back, mumbling an
apology.
She closed the gap between them
and put her fingers to his lips.
“Don’t ever be sorry
for that.
Don’t ever be sorry for having
such a wonderful heart.
I wish I did
too.”
She began to run with the bike and it fired
up.
She
jumped on, glad Heath had insisted, for
safety, that she wear britches when she rode.
She rode off at an amazing speed, ready to find her future by reuniting
her past.
****
Justice blinked away the wetness in her eyes and tried to
focus on meeting up with nameless and sexy.
A two man train robbery.
She was
in.
Chapter Four
The long
hours of sitting on the wooden, albeit finely carved, seat of the motorcycle
left Justice with a sore bottom.
She
turned the bike off and looked at her inauspicious destination.
She pulled off her goggles and hung them from
the handlebars, and then took the paper out of her tool pouch on the front of
the bike, looking at the address again.
Yep, this is the place
, she thought
crossly.
It looked
deserted.
If she had traveled for so
many miles for nothing she was going to kill Sexy.
He had obviously been playing with her, was just
another one of those men who felt threatened by her skill with a gun and
willingness to join them in being bad.
Sighing,
she flipped her leather clad leg over the bike and put the kickstand down.
It began to sink in the sand, so she grabbed
a wooden disc out of her pack and placed it under the kickstand.
Satisfied that the bike would stay, she
decided to look around the place.
A broken
window and weathered exterior clearly showed this home was no longer in use,
but the desolate setting lent an odd beauty to the structure.
It made her want to cry.
Was her childhood home as run down without a
family’s love?
It was a question that
she tried not to think about, but suddenly she couldn’t help but imagine how it
must look.
She hoped squatters had taken
it over and cared for it, but if not, she was sure it would look much like this
home, like a dry skeleton in the sand.
Wind
whipped across her face, grating like sandpaper.
She tried to shield her eyes, blink the
grains away, but was forced to stand, eyes covered until the wind died
down.
She gasped as she opened her eyes.
An imposing figure darkened the shadowed
door.
“Hey,
Beauty. Glad to see that you made it. I thought you might not have the guts.”
Sexy leered from the dark cavern.
“Oh, I’ve
got guts,” Justice retorted. “Some might even say steel balls.
I want that money and I’m willing to take the
risk.”
He stepped
forward, coming out into the light and revealing even white teeth and a more
attractive face than she remembered.
“You never
told me your name,” she said, before Sexy distracted her again.
He smiled. “I’m
a man of mystery.”
His deep
rich whisper made her tingle, but she replied sharply, “I’m going to risk my
life and my freedom on your plan.
Give
me a name or I ride away.”
“My
Christian name is Jeremiah Wallace, but the name on my wanted posters is the
name that most folks know me by.
Telling
you my real name is me giving you my trust.” He fished around in his pocket and
handed her a creased and worn piece of paper.
Opening it, she saw that it was a wanted poster.
The artist hadn’t captured him well at all.
The poster said they wanted him for murder,
robbery, debauchery, and disturbing the peace.
The name listed was “Steel” Wall.
She handed it back with a smile.
“Ok, ‘Steel’,
I believe you’re not a lawman.
How’d you
end up with a name like that?”
“Day before
the first time I was arrested, a fella broke his hand trying to punch me.
Called me a steel wall.
The older guys in the gang thought it was
funny, and when we were brought in by the law and they took down our names, one
of them answered for me, Steel Wallace.
Guess
the last part got dropped.”
“My name
has always been on my poster,” Justice told him.
“Lucky for
you that the artist never saw you, he certainly didn’t draw you right at all.” Steel
shrugged. “Don’t ever let them photograph you, Justice.
Your fine boned face would be a dead giveaway,”
he chuckled, “and if they ever get color out in pictures, that hair’ll bring
you in faster than the reward money.”
“If the
money is really what you claim, this is my last heist,” Justice replied. “I’m
looking to go straight.”
Steel
nodded and beckoned her into the derelict house.
It was obvious that he’d been using it to lay
low for a while.
The place was cleaner
than some of the places she had hidden out in, but not as clean as most of
them.
Sand and grim coated the few
windows that hadn’t been broken and she could see how sand had accumulated half
way to the ceiling in most of the house.
He had clearly shoveled out the kitchen to make it habitable.
A bedroll on the wood floor and a kerosene
lamp indicated this was where he slept.
Justice
sat down on a low bench that looked recently repaired and the thought suddenly
occurred to her—would she be sleeping with him in the house?
Alone?
Feeling both excitement and dread, she turned to hide her blush, the action
covering her discomfort.
“I’m going
to take my bike and hide it around back in what’s left of the lean-to.
I think it’ll make a good spot to hide it.”
Once
outside, Justice took a deep cleansing breath.
She had held onto her virginity for far too long to be tempted to throw
it away for a nice smile and a sexy voice.
Whatever happened, she had to remember that it was the last vow she had
left to break, the only scrap of decency she had left.
The sky was
already turning pink and golden with the hues of sunset as she tucked her bike
in for the evening.
She grabbed her
bedroll and pack from the bike and, straightening her shoulders, she took another
deep breath.
If Sexy thought he was
going to be using his “steel” on her, he had better think again.
Justice was a lot of things, but a slut
wasn’t one of them.
Over the years, she
had shot more than one grabby man in the foot to back him off.
Heath had spent a good portion of their time
together punching gang members for threatening her.
She sometimes missed the security of being
able to just go to sleep, knowing Heath wouldn’t let anyone accost her.
When she gave herself to a man, if she ever
did, it would be because she wanted him more than she even wanted her soul.
Sexy was just making her horny, and horny had
nothing to do with love.
Justice composed
herself and returned to the house where creepy long shadows were beginning to stretch
across the run down rooms.
She hoped
that there weren’t any scorpions or snakes hiding in all the sand surrounding
them.
She had noticed signs of past
animal habitation, but hopefully Steel had taken care of that.
Steel had
opened a can of cold beans and she gratefully accepted a plate.
Her pack didn’t allow her to carry much more
than dried beef, dried apples and a canteen of water.
Anything else was always a treat.
They ate in companionable silence, Justice on
the bench, Steel on the floor.
She
watched him out of the corner of her eye.
After they had both finished, he took her plate over to a washtub on the
counter.
“Alright, Se…Steel.
Let’s talk details. Let me hear your plan.”
She had
almost called him Sexy.
She hoped he
hadn’t noticed her slip of the tongue.
“Well,
Beauty, you are going to wear something mighty respectable and get on the train
leaving
About an hour into
the ride, you’re going to get up and make your way to the caboose.
There’s gonna be a crate marked fragile, and
it’s going to be full of money.
The war
is ending, and not in the Confederate States of
investors traded in their confederate dollars for good old American money.
Those men are having their funds transferred
to a bank in
You’re going to fill up your suitcases
with that money and toss them off the back of the caboose, then you’re going to
jump out and my horse and I will be waiting to catch you.”
“Whoa,”
Justice interjected. “You’re telling me you want me to jump off the back of a
moving steam engine?”
“I plan to
catch you.” He sounded offended that she would doubt him.
“Won’t they
wonder why I’m bringing empty suitcases on a trip?”
“We’ll fill
them with rocks and sand for weight. You’ll just dump them out on the floor and
fill ‘em back up with greenbacks.”
Raising her
eyebrow at his happy smile, she knew she was just stupid enough to go along
with his plan.
She sighed in defeat.
“I’m
probably going to be laughed at when I get to the pearly gates and they ask me
how I died, but hell, I’m in.”
