A Thief in the Night
Chapter 4
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An abbreviated scream was the only warning Sean had before a cold hand clamped over his mouth. He tried to struggle, wriggling ineffectually in the darkness as strange hands pinned and tied his arms behind him, and forced a gag into his mouth. Tearing his legs from the tangled sheets, Sean's unseen assailant bound them viciously with tight, cutting rope. "Be still!" a voice hissed in his ear. "Cause trouble, and you and the girl are finished." Sean went completely lax on the word "girl." Risking his own life was one thing; risking Molly's was another. His eyes frantically searched the darkness for his cousin. His heart pounded, the blood rushing audibly in his ears as panic squeezed his chest. Molly's scream had wakened him, Sean realized. "If you hurt her. . ." he muttered, forming the words carefully around the cloth in his mouth. "You'll what?" his captor snickered, mercilessly tightening Sean's gag. "Bite me?" Sean's eyes stung as the rough handkerchief cut into the corners of his mouth. "Lay off a little, Stephen," the not-so-jovial voice of Gerald Holm murmured from somewhere behind, an odd, uneasy note in his tone. Stephen muttered something about the "stinking Irish deserving it" as he shoved Sean and began tying his hands and feet with rope. "Idiot! Keep it down!" Holm snapped at Stephen. "Do you want to bring half the house up here?" Sean grunted, the bindings on his wrists and feet slicing into his joints, leaving a burning trail of raw skin. His shoulder throbbed from hitting the floor. Holm knelt beside Sean. "Your cousin is fine," he whispered. "She'll be well-treated. Cooperate with us, and this can be over in a few hours." Sean wriggled around, trying to see Molly for himself. Holm laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Just settle down and go along with it. You know, this wouldn't have been necessary if you had been minding your own business earlier today. Mr. Maxwell suspected it was you at the door. And we really can't afford to take any chances. You Irish are far too nosy for your own good." Sean gulped. They had seen him! And now he and Molly would pay for his curiosity. Holm rose, grabbed two blankets and threw one at Stephen. Stephen's crooked teeth showed white in the darkness as he grinned evilly at Sean. "Cover him," Holm directed. "I'll take care of the girl." Sean choked as Stephen grabbed him roughly by the back of the shirt. Then the world spun, and his stomach plummeted as Stephen hoisted him over his shoulder. A quiet swish of blanket followed, covering Sean's face. Stephen jostled Sean and whispered in his ear through the blanket as they started across the room. "Not a sound, boy, or this is the last night you and that little girl will ever see!" The bedroom door creaked. Sean groaned as Stephen's strong fingers dug into his legs behind his knees. The man lugged him down the upstairs hall toward the staircase like a sack of grain, trying hard to avoid bumping his elbows and heels on walls and doorframes. Sean dared not utter a peep. He bit hard on the cloth when his head hit something hard. Stephen did not seem to care. He only stopped once, grumbling angrily under his breath, when Sean's foot caught between the rails at the top of the staircase. Sean thought he heard the rattle of a doorknob, but he was too preoccupied with worry about Molly to give it much notice. At the bottom of the stairs, they paused. Then the front door opened and the chill wind of the outdoors reached him right through the folds of the blankets. Then Sean heard the definite, heavy click of the front door of the boardinghouse closing behind them. A shiver ran down his spine. Several paces later, a gust of wind lifted the edge of the sheet that hung down over his face. Sean lifted his head and caught a glimpse of the boardinghouse door before the sheet fluttered back over his face and covered him with darkness. |