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My knee came up to smash his balls.
The air expelled from his lungs in a wordless gasp. He instinctively doubled over, head landing between my breasts. I pushed off the tree behind me with my other foot, going airborne a few inches off the grass.
All my muscles flexed as I used the leverage of the shackle chain to spin while in the air, managing to twirl myself around Red’s body.
Then I was behind him, with the chain no longer at the back of his neck, but spun around to the front of it.
And I pulled.
As hard as I fucking could.
Red jerked, hands swerving up from his busted sack to the tight constriction around his neck.
The sounds coming from him were inhuman—guttural gags and haunting chokes.
I only yanked harder, using all my strength, gritting my teeth.
He started a death-rattle, writhing and moving and spinning me around back toward the tree.
He slammed my spine against the tree but I held on, just barely, and wrapped my legs around his waist. I garroted the man with the cold iron of the chain links digging into his flesh.
His face turned red, and then purple. He clawed behind him, trying to throw me off him. Yet I never relented.
Not until the color of his face turned crimson and dark, deep purple. His eyes bulged, tongue lolling from asphyxiation, and still I gritted my teeth and clamped down on him with all my might.
Blood trickled from his nose. His eyes turned red and rheumy and bloodshot. My muscles ached from the effort. My taut body was about to give out—
But Red gave out first.
A ghostly wheeze came out of him. He slumped forward. His body still clawed in front of him, arms acting on their own volition from muscle reflexes.
My grip loosened around the chain cuffs. His pallor turned from bruised purple to bloody red. Finally, to normal, with his lips parted and spittle dripping down his beard.
He had an agonized expression on his face. I knew I hadn’t just choked him into unconsciousness—he had fought so hard that I’d strangled him to death.
Red’s limp body toppled over.
I breathed heavily, every muscle in my body twitching and aching with a need for rest.
I looked over my shoulder, to the darkness of the forest.
My Realm of Solitude. The place I could escape to and never be seen again.
My conscience stilled me, though, as I knew it would. I wouldn’t be Robin Hood if I just left, would I? And leave those girls alone with those two men?
It wasn’t even an option in my mind.
So I turned back around, away from the promise of freedom, and headed for the wagon, stepping over the old rapist’s corpse.
Chapter 45
Robin
Ipeered through a wreath from the tree line, crouched and silent, staring out at the carriage. The horses stood in place. The two guards lounged near the back, leaning lazily against the end of the carriage. The girls inside sat motionless, stiff on their benches.
It was just how I’d left it. Except now, my entire life had changed. I had killed a man to earn my freedom . . . and I still wasn’t out of the proverbial woods.
When I had killed my father, it was out of spite and revenge. A hot-blooded murder Sir Thomas deserved for a lifetime of abuse. With this man, Red? It had been slaughter out of pure desperation. A defensive measure. Red was a man who had lost his son and wanted to take his anguish and frustrations out on the person he blamed for his death. Me.
