Rescue Me Please (4 page)

A narrow op
ening in the box hedge led to
a wide open lawn of freshly cut grass that ended at a wooded expanse.  The leaves on the trees had turned
and
fallen long ago leaving
naked branches for his
background in which
to gather his turbulent thoughts
.  He
exited the contained garden and stepped out into the wide open lawn. 
Perhaps he should use this as a guide to wh
at he should do with his life?

He loved this time of year; he inhaled the sweet scent of leaves, grass and winter roses
.  He inhaled
savoring the stillness and the crisp air.  No parties.  No guests.  Just family.  Family seemed like such a loose
term
now.  Poppy was gone and at home with her husband awaiting her first child.  Piper recently married and along with her devoted husband determined to set London on its ears with her very own literary
salon.  Then there was Peyton; only God kne
w what
Peyton was about
.  And here he was
alone.

Suddenly out of the quiet came a mewling cry
interrupting his maudlin
reflections
. 
Parker perked up
,
gazing out into the distance
,
trying to m
ake out the direction of the sound
.  His aunt would be amused that he was now hearing cries in the silence.  This was utterly ridiculous.  He should pack and leave for places less quiet.  Perhaps Seym
our would allow him to join in his holiday festivities?  Seymour
was his last unmarried friend.  He sighed
as he thought
of the lack of possibilities for entertainment at this time of year, besides it
would soon grow
too cold to travel far.  He would rather be comfortably ensconced in his study or even
seated in
the libra
ry in front of a roaring fire.

There it was again.  He moved
further onto the lawn, scanning the surrounding
area as he went and waited once again
.  When suddenly he spotte
d a dark speck amongst the browning
grass at the edge of the wooded a
rea and he quickened his pace.

The fu
rther he went, the clearer the cry.  It sounded like that of a hungry baby.  Impossible.  None of his tenants currently had infants and this area was far from the
main
road.  It couldn’t be a lost traveler.  However
would they have
made it this far wit
hout being seen?

Startled, he faltered at what appeared
in front of him. 
A raggedly dressed young girl lay on her side with her knees curled to her chest and a tightly swaddled baby
lay on the ground beside her.

Damn
.  He wiped at his eyes so he could mak
e sense of what he was seeing.

A baby
?
  What the hell was he going to do with a baby?

He was a fool
for a woman in trouble and toss
a bab
y
into the
mixture and
he might as well
h
and over all of his worldly possessions
.

Not wanting to frighten the sleeping trespasser, he slowed his pace, circling around until he was within a few feet of their resting spot.
The chil
d looked as if it had finished its
reprieve and was attempting with all its might to make its needs known to the entire county.  The baby’s face mottl
ed red in frustration.  T
he
piercing
cries
enough to bring even the toughest man to his knees, but
somehow
did
n’
t even faze the sleeping girl.

Parker hesitated for
only
the briefest of moments before he moved slowly towards the mewling bundle, crouching down to lift the baby to his shoulder.  He felt clumsy and overly large with the tiny body nestled against his chest.  He k
new next to nothing of babies.

“Wh
at has you so upset, little one?” he asked
calmly,
even though he knew no answer would be forthcoming.  N
ot want
ing to distress the baby more.  H
e
gazed down at the red-faced infant
in his arms, then
ran his hand over the infa
nts back, pulling back with a grimace when he
encountered the baby’s soggy bottom.  “Ah, I see now what has you flying up in the boughs, little one.”  He held the infant away from his shoulder
, only then
noticing
the
dark stain
on hi
s jacket. 
He g
rinned
at the wide green
eyes that stared back at him
,
a s
tring of drool dangling from its
toothless smile
.  “I would be surly as well if I were forced to endure this uncomfortable condition for too long.”  He
looked into the baby’s big gree
n eyes
with a furrowed brow
.  “We must remedy this
situation
immediately.”

He looked around
,
his gaze land
ing
on the small satchel that lay at the sleeping girl’s feet.  He kept the baby far fro
m his body
,
watching as
its
mouth widened into a toothless grin.  “Well, it appears you are in good spirits, little one.
”  He lifted his brow
, letting out a deep swoosh of air
.
 
“
Soaked, but in good spirits.”  To Parker’s amusement, the infant let out a sweet coo, as if in agreement.  “Forgive me, I don’t know if I will make a bigger mess, but I’m willing to
give it a go.” 
Dear Lord, help me.
 
He raised his pleading eyes to the sky as if se
arching for some kind of sign.

Parke
r leaned forward and reached across
the girls’ still sleeping body to rifle through the satchel on the ground near her feet when his forearm accidently brushed against her skirt
setting off a maelstrom
.

Cheeks pink from sleep,
alarm
flashed in her tired green eyes
as they flew open
.  A s
plit second
later,
she jumped up from where she lay nearly knocking him on his backside
.
I
nching backwards until a couple of feet separated them. 
He caught her completely off guard, unprepared.
  A mistake she could little afford.

Her breath escaped in soft pants as s
he brandished
a lethal
looking knife,
her frown grew fierce, but her voice quivered
whe
n
she spoke
, “Return my baby to me this ins
tant or I will be forced to-to—
harm you.” 
She flushed and stammered a little as a
ll the blood left her face
and she
swayed dizzily
.
 
Why of all days did she choose to forgo eating? 
She closed her eyelids briefly
battling
,
the all-consuming weariness that pursued her relentlessly
.  Not now.  She needed to be strong.  She drew in a deep breath, afraid and yet determined to survive at least for Tillie’s sake.
  She was fragile.  Helpless without her.

Parker
’s eyes narrowed as she swayed.  “Miss,” he inquired
, reaching
out to her.  She flinched.
“My God, I won’t harm you.”

***

Granville stroked his
latest
plaything’s artfully arranged golden curls
.  He really didn’t like the word
slave
.  It had
so many negative connotations, but he liked being his
Master. 
He frowned as he looked down at t
he top of Hunter’s bowed head where
he kne
lt
on the floor at his feet behind his desk.  He had needs and Hunter had needs that they were
able to fulfill with each other
.  It came quite by
happy
accident.

“You’ve been s
o good
today.” 
Granville
resisted rubbing his tired
eyes;
he had spent the entire night searching for his ring with no luck
.

Hunter gazed up at him,
adoration
plain in his eyes
, leaning into Granville’s
soft touch.  “Thank you, Master
.”

Granville
leaned his head back, remembering the sound the whip made on Hunter
’s white flesh and he hardened.  The hiss.
T
he crack.  His toy.  The sound of Hunter’s screams, then release and he grew
even
hard
er
.

“Perhaps next time I won’t have to be so rough.”  He pressed Hunter’s head against his thigh, the young man sighed with obvious pleasure. 
“But you made me angry.” 
He ran his hand over Hunter’s hair, before tangling his fingers in the loose strands, pulling his head back and tipped his face up to take his lips in a demanding kiss. 
“You must obey, Hunter.”  He did
n’t feel guilt, he felt anger.

He gripped Hunter’s
nape hard
and felt the telling quiver that ran through him
.  “I do hope you last longer than the last.”  His fingers tightened enough to make Hunter’s muscles jump under his palm.  “I hope you won’t disappoint me
again
, will you Hunter?”  He could feel Hunter’s whole body tighten, perhaps in fear.  Perhaps in d
esire.  Perhaps a little of
both.

A sligh
t hesitation before Hunter
answered,
“Never, Master
.  Never.”
  His eyes dilated and a flush
of arousal
washed over his cheeks.

Granville
gave him a nod of approval before he
picked up his dr
ink and took a healthy swallow, harnessing his rage,
the corner of his
mouth lifted.  “Good, my pet.”

A wise old owl lived in an oak

The more he saw the less he spoke

The less he spoke the more he heard.

Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?

H
elplessness nearly suffocated Persephone in its chokehold.
  Goose bumps broke out on the surface of her skin,
but from fear, not from the
cool air that flowed over her exposed
flesh
.  The coldness seeped into her bones
making them almost ache
.  S
he looked around, no idea where she was, or how close help would be.  There were trees to her right and a flat field to her left.  She raised her chin to peer farther, releasing her breath when she caught sight of a manicured box hedge and past the garden to an enormous three-story
redbrick
home.

She for
ced herself to
calm,
to
not panic. 
She had been so
exhausted;
she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open a minute longer.  She had pra
ctically slept where she fell
.  She wasn’t su
re she had the strength to go fu
rther
and now fear lodged in her throat
, it
s
grip almost paralyzing her where she stood
.
  She knew his pursuit would be ruthless.  He would never stop as long as he thought her still alive. 
She could
little
afford to stop.  She really
shouldn’t have taken t
he luxury to rest.
  And now she would pay for her weakness.

It took her a long moment before she was able to draw a
nother
deep breath, urging
her heart beat to calm
its race
in her chest an
d her knees to stop
their persistent
shaking
.