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I picked up the frilly pile, balling it up and tossing it over the fence. Then I went for the ties of the next underskirt, fumbling as I pulled it from Cait’s waist.
“What in Irvine’s name?!” A man shouted, his voice frighteningly close.
We paused, my hands still on a partially undressed Cait, as I realized how it looked. I bit my lip, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.
We’d been so focused on Cait’s dress that we hadn’t seen or heard the Enforcer approaching in the dim shadows, but now his footsteps pounded closer, and we saw the silhouette of his figure about fifty paces away.
If he managed to clearly see our faces, everything would get much, much worse. Our cover would be blown and neither of us would have the safety of our disguises.
Cait stood frozen in her bloomers and corset.
“Cover your face!” I grabbed the top skirt and lifted it all the way over her head, then reached for the bag Zenitha had given us.
I pulled out the electric light and switched it on, pointing it right at the Enforcer’s face.
He threw his hands up, covering his eyes. “Put that down! You are both under arrest for this indecency.”
I remembered how that light had blinded me in the tunnels. I knew the man couldn’t see my face, which emboldened me to take the gun from the bag. I could use it to knock him out if he came close enough.
“On your knees,” I said in my deep and quiet voice, pleased with how intimidating I sounded. I pointed the gun toward him.
He dropped to the ground, squinting against the bright light, clearly able to see my weapon. “Please. Let me go and I’ll pretend I never saw anything.”
My hand shook wildly as fear gripped me. I meant to step forward and smash the gun into his head, but my feet were fixed to the spot. I was afraid I might kill him, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone again.
“Go,” I said, my voice nearly a whisper.
“Really?” hissed Cait, her voice furious.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you!” He moved to stand when Cait suddenly wrenched the gun from my hand and did the thing I couldn’t bring myself to do.
She pounded the gun’s metal handle hard into the back of his skull and he collapsed onto the ground.
I gasped, reminded of our night at the docks.
She knelt on the ground in her white underclothing, hands reaching for his neck.
For a moment, I thought she was going to strangle him.
“No!” I stopped her hands.
“I’m checking his pulse,” she said. “Could you please trust me?”
“Trust you?” I asked. “This is the second time you’ve gone and attacked someone when I had things under control.”
“Letting him go free is not keeping him under control.”
“He didn’t see our faces,” I said. “And he only thought we were being indecent. He knows nothing.”
“Well, he’s alive,” she said. “So you can relax.”
I thought I detected mild disappointment in her tone.
“Good,” I said. “Now leave him and let’s go.” I gestured to the fence and switched off the electric torch.
She gathered her remaining skirt and her shoes and threw them over the fence, then began to climb.
I gave her a boost, watching her successfully climb over the fence and drop to the grass inside without getting impaled. Then I tossed the bag over to her.
