âThey be guvâs people. Doon wan te git throân in prison for nuthinâ
She turned her head to follow his voice as it moved around to the door of the hackney. It was pitch black and wet outside. For a moment she felt safe cowering inside the four walls of the hackney. She heard the door to the hackney open and hit the side with a loud bang. A burly hand grabbed her arm and tossed her to the ground. She landed on her hands and knees, her body quickly drenched in the cold rain. She felt a cold object slide inside her bodice.
âHereâs a guinneâ.â She heard pity in his voice. She half kneeled, trying to grab his arm.
âNo, please,â She tried to grab his arm, âI have more money. I can ..â They both turned towards the end of the street behind them as they heard the sound of a carriage approaching. She stared at him in horror.
But the driver was already slapping his reins on the horses, and, drove off in a wet clop of hooves and wheels. She started running behind the hackney when she almost stumbled back to the ground. A searing pain went through her leg. She heard the carriage get nearer and nearer. She took off at a run, her feet splashing in small puddles as she ran, her coif wet and flattening onto her head.
Someone shouted behind her. She glanced behind her. To her utter horror, she saw three burly men running after her. They were not that further behind her. She didnât know where she was running to but she ran.Â
One of the burly fools chasing after her had slipped, causing confusion among the men. Through the rain, she saw small ramshackle buildings lining either side of the narrow street but no sight of people anywhere. Her mind tried to trick her into a sense of complacency, letting her think she had put a good amount of distance between herself and the fools chasing her, but she knew better. The pig never gave up on his properties. He either brought them back to be tortured or killed them mercilessly. She didnât stop.
She dashed through a narrow opening between two buildings only to come out into a wider street. Here, gas lamps dotted the street at irregular intervals. Why arenât there any people here? Would she be able to find a hackney here? This area seemed a little better off than the one the hackney stopped in. She felt her body slowing down, one of her legs that had gone completely numb was not helping her frantic urge to run to safety. She wiped wet tendrils from her eyes as she looked around her surroundings. Empty alleys, sinister looking shacks, and short, squat buildings passed in a wet blur around her. She whipped her head this way and that, looking for dark corners as she half-ran, half-limped through the streets, trying to find a place that would allow her some moments to herself before they caught her. Or even better, killed her. She shivered in the rain that had already dampened her dress.
A shadow flickered at the corner of her eye. She whirled around and took a step back. Her leg stepped into a muddy puddle and collapsed under her. An excruciating pain engulfed her body. She looked down to see streaks of mud coated her entire being. The rain continued to wash away the tears that have been pouring out unbeknownst to her. She choked on her sobs as she tried to get some breath back into her lungs. She raised her head and spied a dark corner just a few feet away from her.
Panting, she raised herself onto her arms. She heaved her hips an inch forward, her arms shaking, threatening to collapse under her. She groped the slippery ground for footing as she slowly found her way to the darkness, her dress bunching and slithering out of the puddle behind her. She flailed her hands around her, her fingers coming into contact with a rough wall that abraded her bruised fingers. She crawled as far as she could and rested her head against the wall.
She licked the raindrops from her lips and, let out a heavy breath. Images and thoughts swirled in her head. A groom with a perturbed expression standing amidst beautiful arrangements of purple orchids and delphiniums, the child with his toffee eyes and chestnut curls who must be crying for her even now, the mistakes she made. More tears slipped out of her eyes as shame and guilt washed over her.
She froze as she heard a slow series of squelching sounds approaching the alleyway. She knew that saunter. She had heard those slow, relaxed footsteps on hardwood floors and on expensive carpets. They paused right outside the circle of darkness she was in. She held her breath and didnât let it go when the disgusting pig of a man walked away.
dailybridgerton
jacobvanloon
areudirty
2087
snowghoul