Chapter 68 Sixty Eight
AMELIA XAVIER
There was always that moment when a person couldn't hold back especially after watching in horror as something so painful displayed, but instead of disbelief or sorrow clouding her, fury came.
How dare Ash Winters hurt the one person I cared so much about? I watched him as he placed his filthy hands on the dagger stuck at Owen's back ready to pull and cause him a painful and slow gory death, then it came — that burning rage. I ran towards him, and using Owen's pistol, I struck the back of his head, sure that it made an impact — and by God, it did because bright red blood trickled from his hair down to his neck. I smirked.
“You don't have the right to kill him. I'm the one who's meant to do that, you bastard!” I screamed, my face red with a different kind of anger… a murderous kind of anger.
Ash turned to me, a smile played on his blood dried lips. He chuckled probably at the thought that a mere woman — a pregnant woman slammed him with a pistol. My expression read disgust and sheer disdain.
“You're quite intriguing, my sweet…” I didn't wait to hear his nonsense. I didn't want to, so I used the gun on his cheeks causing injury that would turn to a scar if left untreated with immediate effect. The audience gasped in shock or horror, I cared less. Murmurs and jeers increased amongst everyone in the hall and Ash turned serious, he glared murderously at me, and cursed under his heavy breath.
“Is that what you want now?”
“Less talking, more action, bastard!” I glared grasping the gun tightly that my palms felt hot. The readiness to murder this man loosened the tight knot in my stomach. My eyes roamed through the room, everyone watched with eagerness, and thank goodness the media was present because the rate at which I was planning to humiliate this man needed to be recorded. The so called heir to the house of Winters needed to be taught a lesson; not to cross a pregnant woman's path.
Father might be watching… the whole world in fact, and that gave a more reason why I needed to prove myself.
Ash chuckled sinisterly, and moved closer to me, one step at a time, but I did not waver. He proved a fool to think instilling fear would make me cower in front of him, or more disgracefully, kneel and beg for mercy.
“Try me,” I chortled and as he reached for me, I slid under his arm and forcefully thrust the pistol at his back. Leaving no space, I smacked him down, following his fall with satisfaction. He tumbled till his back hit a pillar.
The crowd cheered, but that didn't matter. I was more than ready for any form of violence. Taking a glance at Owen, the corners of his lip curled into a mischievous grin, then he winced in pain. But his eyes gazed steadily at me as if to say, “that's my woman.” I nodded and faced my opponent. Ash advanced towards me screaming, but I threw aggressive punches at him until he plopped to the ground… but not in defeat.
Such a nuisance that man was!
There's a saying I heard or read that villains didn't die quickly and they weren't born rather made, but anyone would agree that that moron, Ash Winters, was a born villain, and my main focus was how to end his life quickly.
Ash stood up, not wanting to give up, he snatched a dagger from one of the guests sitting close to the pillar. “I'll make you pay, you little imp!” He yelled racing in my direction, but I had a fast reflex. I ran towards him, and as he tried to drive the knife into my stomach, I went past him knocking him down once more with the pistol. This fight style was so tricky that it would've landed me six feet under the soil, but I survived, yes?
I breathed fast and sharp, holding my tummy. My stomach throbbed badly but I needed to keep going. To keep fighting.
It seemed like Ash Winters caught up with the fact strength left me due to my pregnancy, so he took it as an advantage and charged with his dagger, but as soon as he closed in on me, I bent. He was already out of time because he lost his footing and fell face down.
The guests mocked him, and I joined subconsciously. The moment seemed just too funny. His face read that he didn't find it funny, then he was up again and at me.
I didn't have the time to calculate nor was I able to dictate his next step because my back landed on the floor in no time. I grimaced, holding my stomach to stop the pressure. My eyes rolled up to meet Owen. He nodded, and stood to his feet. “How much of a coward are you? How many times must you be humiliated before you accept your fate, Ash Sean Winters? Take it from me and everyone here today, you're the biggest coward,” he voiced out as the murmurs died. He squinted his eyes with every step, but I prayed he knew exactly what he was doing.
Ash hissed, rage clouding his judgments. “Should we do this the Devon way?” Owen asked, bringing out his tongue and tasting his own blood… or his rival's blood. “You're a big failure…”
“Shut up, you don't know anything!” Ash screamed clutching the dagger tightly.
“Says the person that's about to tell the whole world his life's story. Stop bawling, you're not a baby!” The crowd laughed.
Ash cursed out loud, and did exactly what we, Owen and I wanted — to come for us.
Ash charged at us with fury, I felt how the rage blinded him, and believe me when I said, it tasted like tequila. As he closed the distance between us, Owen shouted. “Now, Amelia!”
My feet lifted from the ground in a sharp arc. As I did a backflip, my hand snatched the dagger from his grasp, but before he could even react, I plunged the blade into his waist and he let out a sharp piercing cry.
I landed in a warrior style as my feet hit the ground. My breathing increased, but my joy surpassed it. The crowd cheered and the camera shutters clicked. Owen came and raised me up, but I couldn't hug him due to his pain.
“Let me take care of the rest,” he said and I agreed. “The pleasure is all yours.”
“Hand me the gun,” he instructed and that got me a little confused. I cocked my head to the side, and when he didn't explain, I asked. “What do you want to do?”
“Just to give our injured guy a warning,” he replied and took the pistol.
The guests went silent when Owen came up to Ash Winters who lay on the ground wincing in pain. “Kill me, you bastard!” He screamed, but started to cough. Owen patiently waited till he was done.
“I won't kill you. Not here. Not now, but a little warning might help you, Mr Winters-” he looked at me and winked.
“Watch your back.”
Owen pulled the trigger, and shot it. The bullet flew with speed and direction. It hit Ash's arm close to his chest.
Owen turned and walked to me, he took my hand pulling me. “Let's go. What a bloody party for a Winter to be in.”
As soon as we reached the car, he sighed. “Does your back ache? We're going to the hospital,” I insisted, taking the keys and opening the back door so he'd lie down flat on his stomach so as not to cause further damage.
“I'm fine, I need a check up then I'm good, but you… you need a test for the baby… I was so happy when you intervened. I badly want to see that baby live,” he stuttered, making failed attempts to enter the car.
I smiled painfully, the thought of losing him could finally break me.
“I'm glad you survived, fool,” I said and hugged him lightly.
Owen grinned, his eyes half closed. “Should I go back and get wine? It'll help in healing a French man like me,” he muttered, making me chuckle. I felt like beating him up, but that would be later since he was so badly injured.
“Come on, get in the car, you'll pass out soon, and you've lost too much blood. Your life is slipping away with every damn second you stand here!” I reprimanded, but he only laughed.
“It's not funny!”
“You're treating an injured man unfairly, pamper me, and I'll get in the car,” he said, proving so stubborn.
I rolled my eyes, and kissed his blood covered cheeks. “That’s not enough!” He whined that I wondered if the baby in my stomach was rubbing off on his father.
“Okay.” I placed my lips on his and slid my tongue into his mouth. Shivers ran down my body, and the hairs at my back stood. A soft moan escaped my lips — although brutally injured (a dagger stuck to his back), Owen kissed like he had all the time in the world, and using all of it for this moment, didn't bother him.
“I'll faint soon…” he muttered and suddenly, his head fell softly to my shoulder.
This man was crazy.