Over the Barrel (30 page)

"What?!
 
That is impossible.
 
She said she had never had a
lover."

"She
certainly did not give herself to me voluntarily, but she grew accustomed to my
ways."

"You
raped her?"
 
Blair's face
paled.

"We
engaged in adventurous amore," the man chuckled evilly.

"Sir,
that is appalling!" she exclaimed, as he shoved her into a windowless old
shack.

"Yeah,
well so was her cunt.
 
Never liked
it much.
 
She also had a little
problem with nagging, though.
 
It
made me feel well, unmanly.
 
Sit
your ass in that chair."

"You
said you were engaged.
 
What
happened with you two?" Blair asked, wincing as she sat in the
straight-backed chair.
 
She bit her
lip as he began to tie her hands together.
 
"Why are you tying me?
 
Please, let me pass."

Deuce
ignored her request.
 
"Her best
friend appreciated me much, much more than she did.
 
Much,
much
more," he chuckled, tightening the knot.
 
"Lillian was very appreciative, if
you know what I mean.
 
That gal
liked it hard and fast, and begged for it every time."

Lillian?
 
"My grandmother's name was
Lillian," Blair whispered hoarsely.

"It
sure was.
 
She got herself with
child, too.
 
She wanted me to make
things right and marry her, but I don't like to be tied down.
 
Plus, I like my women to struggle a bit,
and she was too compliant with my needs."

"Wait a
moment.
 
Are YOU my
grandfather?" Blair's mouth hung open in shock.

"Guess
so.
 
Lillian forced Malcolm to wed
her.
 
They had a kid, your
mother."

"Dear Lord
…" Blair shook her head.
 
"Now things make more sense.
 
Deuce, did you kill my grandmother?"

Deuce sat
down on a chair in front of her.
 
"Might as well tell you the whole story, since you ain't gonna live
through the day.
 
Malcolm knew the
kid weren't his, but raised her anyway.
 
All his drinking kept him from having his own children, ya know."

"No, I
did not.
 
Please, continue.
 
What happened with my aunt?" Blair
asked, trying to erase the words meant to terrify her.
 
She
was going to die!

"Imelda
found out.
 
The old bitch was
livid.
 
I guess her daddy, your
great-grandpa, decided she weren't worth his time and willed all his belongings
over to his granddaughter, your mama."

"But my
mother wasn't even of his blood.
 
Did he know that?"

"Nope.
 
He just wanted to make sure that his
greedy wench of a daughter and gambling son didn't touch the goods.
 
Old Malcolm, though—he weren't
happy with the outcome."

"I
heard that my grandmother had a significant inheritance.
 
Was that true?"

"Sure
as hell was.
 
Malcolm wanted it
something awful, since he couldn't touch the girl's inheritance.
 
The only way to do that was to, well,
eliminate Lillian.
 
He got in touch
with me, knowing that I would go for a nice piece of coin.
 
Wasn't too hard.
 
She was nothin' but a whore, and it is
real easy for me to kill off whores."

Blair gulped
as she surveyed the blank darkness of his eyes.
 
He was insane!
 
"Are you the one who was murdering
all those women in the brothels?"

"Me?
 
Nah that was Clay's doin'.
 
I met up with him in Texas after he had
a particularly fun ride with one pretty little southern gal.
 
We shared her the first night,"
Deuce chuckled.
 
"You hooked up
with her husband."

"Sloan's
wife?
 
He was telling the
truth?"

"Don't
know what he told you, but that bitch gave both me and Clay the clap.
 
We went south where Clay went out to
another whorehouse and was refused because of his disease.
 
He didn't have enough money for the
doctor so he went and robbed the bank, and then went back and took care of the
whore infestation right then and there.
 
He left the bodies near the injuns to implicate them and throw the
Rangers off his trail.
 
He was
bragging to me about what he done and we thought it might be good for us both
to take care of that Southern whore who made us sick.
 
So we headed back up north."

"That
was when you killed Sloan's wife."

"Yeah,
but this time I tried to get some help for this disease from the injuns.
 
The Chief refused me, so I force-fucked
his daughter," Deuce shrugged.
 
"I figured, let him cure her.
 
The damn bitch shot me in the thigh, so I had to cut her throat."

"And
Clay killed the rest of the prostitutes and anyone else who was there?"

"He
sure did.
 
Including a couple of
brats."
 
Deuce sounded
proud.
 
"We went and dumped
their bodies just outside the injun camp.
 
We started up toward Colorado territory then and got hooked up with Blue
Sky as cattle drovers.
 
One hell of
a ride, too.
 
Both of us were really
hurting something awful.
 
Clay got
offered job as foreman by Malcolm; that helped us plan our next hit."

"You
robbed the bank to get money for a doctor.
 
Didn't he help you?"

"Doc
said there ain't nothing he could do 'cept stick a hot poker into my cock and
push medicine straight through into it.
 
Ain't no one gonna put nothing in my cock." Deuce said, taking out
his knife and beginning to sharpen it.
 
"Clay decided that the best way to stop this disease was to kill
off the whores who was spreading it."

Blair
frowned.
 
Running the cattle to
other towns from Manitou Springs allowed the murderers to have a home
base.
 
They were careless, though,
because they left a definite pattern that pointed to where they were.
 
No wonder Sloan had identified Manitou
and her grandfather's ranch as being the location of the outlaws's
hideout!
 
She berated herself for her
foolishness.
 
Why didn't she just
listen to Sloan and stay out of the way?

"Don't
you think they are going to catch you?
 
You are doing these things right under their noses."

 
"You're a smart woman.
 
Shame I'm gonna have to kill you."

"Deuce,
if everything you are telling me is true, that means I am your
granddaughter.
 
Why would you kill
me?"
 
Blair felt the sweat
break out on her forehead as she struggled against the ropes.

"Whoring
is generational.
 
Don't think I
don't know how you threw yourself at that lawman!
 
My scouts were watching everything you
did."

"It was
my rebellion," Blair said.
 
A rope was loose!
 
"I wanted to defy everything I
had been taught.
 
You are fortunate
you did not marry Imelda.
 
She is a
cruel, bitter woman who used her anger against me since the day I was placed
under her care."

"Your
mother's birth made her that way.
 
I
did try to go back once Lillian was married off.
 
I needed the money," Deuce said,
drinking heavily from his flask. "She wouldn't have me because I was
polluted."

"Is
that the reason?
 
I would think it
was because you raped her repeatedly and then betrayed her with her best
friend," Blair said, feeling another rope loosen.
 
She blanched as his face darkened.
 
"Regardless, you must have been so
hurt with her rejection.
 
Especially
since it was not all your doing."

"She
wouldn't listen.
 
She was
hard-hearted, even then.
 
Her best
friend betrayed her, and she was left to depend upon her father's charity
before he died," Deuce said, his speech slurring slightly as the effects
of the alcohol took over.
 
He
chuckled.
 
"I guess I ruined
Imelda for any other man.
 
She could
never be satisfied with anyone else like she was with me."

Blair
decided to attempt siding with him, although she knew that when dealing with
insanity, she had little hope to turn him to protect her.
 
"What my grandmother did is
unforgiveable—to you, Imelda, and Malcolm.
 
But killing me is not going to undo what
has happened.
 
We share the same
blood, Deuce.
 
I can change.
 
I can learn from the mistakes of those
horrid women before me.
 
Please,
give me that chance."

"No can
do.
 
Gotta finish what I
started."
 
He released a loud
groan as his injured leg gave way from under him.
 
He pulled himself into a chair and
stretched his legs out, draining his flask.

"Deuce!
 
Are you in pain?" Blair asked, her
hands now free.

"Gotta
drink to make it livable," Deuce said.
 
"You're a nice girl.
 
A sweet, kind girl.
 
I wish I didn't have to kill you.
 
But I can't be letting you make more
whores.
 
Them whores, they just
bring all kinds of hurt, ya know."

"I
understand," Blair said, eyeing him as he started to doze.
 
"I forgive you."

"Your
aunt … she ain't never gonna forgive me," the man said, as he began to
doze.
 
"Could have had a good
life …."

Blair waited
anxiously for him to drop into a deep, intoxicated sleep and then let the ropes
fall to the ground.
 
Her hands shook
as she untied her feet and then silently stood.
 
She picked up her gun from the sideboard
where Deuce had tossed it and chewed on her lip as she contemplated attempting
to remove the firearms from Deuce's person.
 
She chose to not risk awakening him and
slipped outside, making certain to bar the door closed and hopefully prevent
him from easily following her.

The sun was
high by the time she found Skinwalker.
 
He had been tied up in a stable, and both front and back legs had been
hobbled by someone she had not seen.
 
Blair cut the ropes with her little wood knife that she kept tucked in
her boot, hiding under the horse as she listened for telltale signs that Deuce
had discovered her absence.
 
She led
the agitated horse to the open area, her eyes darting about as she watched for
Deuce's accomplices.
 
With no one in
direct sight, she climbed a fence and slid onto his back.
 
Leaning forward with her hands gripping
his mane, she kicked her heels to his sides.

Skinwalker
flew like the wind.
 
Blair yelped as
the sound of gunshots followed her escape.
 
The pounding of hooves against hard ground drowned out the series of
gunshots as her captors pursued her.
 
"Please get me home, Skinwalker.
 
Get me to Sloan," she begged as the
horse zigzagged and jumped over fallen trees, quickly outdistancing her
hunters.
 
"Dear God, please
don't let him step in a gopher hole and kill us both," she prayed aloud as
Skinwalker sped in the direction of the ranch.
 
Blair cringed as she realized that she
had not sought solace from her faith since her parents had died.
 
She made silent promises to be obedient
and mindful of her safety, repenting of her 'sins' and sending solemn oaths to
the heavens concerning improvement of her behavior.
 
As she rode up to the house, she
dismounted the animal with the final promise of forgiving Sloan and allowing
him another chance, should he desire it.

The animal
was frothing and covered with a heavy layer of sweat by the time they skidded
to a halt at the front porch.
 
Blair
jumped off his back and raced inside.

"My,
my, looky at what the cat dragged in," Malcolm said, with a smile.
 
"I hear you went on a little
adventure, granddaughter."