Bound Page 8

  “I…I told you before…I just panicked.” Layla threw up her hands. “I answered his advert because I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate. And he did seem so kind. So understanding. ” She looked at Etu and Charlie in turn. “Do you understand what it’s like? To be desperate?”

  They both nodded. “In different ways, Layla, we’ve both suffered,” Etu replied.

  Of course they had. That was why the three of them connected so deeply. Understanding. Empathy. Unity.

  “What happened to you, Layla?” Charlie asked.

  For a moment, she paused. Should she tell him about Henrik? There was no sense in holding back now. No sense at all. She had nothing to lose for all was lost.

  “Well…there was a man. An actor. After my pa died, he didn’t leave me much but what he did leave me I was gonna use to get the hell outta Deadwood. But then the man…the varmint stole everything. He wooed me then took my…my virginity and all my money. He left me with nothing except for shame.”

  “He deserves a horse-whipping!” Charlie spat. “There is no excuse at all for leaving a vulnerable young woman all alone in the world and certainly no excuse for taking what was hers. Some men should not be allowed near a woman.”

  Layla worried her bottom lip. If only she’d had Charlie and Etu to protect her, to defend her honour.

  “I…I had nothing left…I had hoped to use what my father left me to move on…” She needed to finish explaining. She didn’t want them thinking badly of her. It mattered now. It really mattered more than anything ever had done.

  “You thought life would be better elsewhere?” Charlie raised his eyebrows.

  “Well yeah,” she replied. “Of course. Deadwood ain’t the only place on this earth. There has to be somewhere better.”

  “It ain’t always the way, Layla.” Etu shook his head and the expression on his face made Layla’s heart ache. “Most places is pretty much the same. Folks don’t differ. Only time makes a difference.”

  She knew that he spoke the truth. Etu, more than any man, would know what folks were like. He would have endured their prejudices and the darker sides of their natures more than anyone.

  “That’s why me and Etu got ourselves a little homestead away from town,” Charlie added.

  “What?” Layla frowned. “You have a homestead too? Of your own? Like Mr Jackman?” Her stomach flipped. “Is it near to him?” If it was, even if she couldn’t be this intimate with them again then at least she could hope to see them. Or, she could perhaps offer to cook and clean for them, to take care of them if they’d take her with them. Her spirits rose then sank as quickly like a wave on the stormy ocean. She knew that she would never be able to live alongside them as a housekeeper. She would need more from them. She would need to be their partner, to share in their love, to work and live as their equal.

  “Kinda.” Etu laughed and Charlie joined in.

  “So finish what you were saying about that actor.” Charlie said.

  “His name was Henrik de Vere. Or so he said.” Layla felt the old pain tug at her chest. Strangely, it was somehow no longer as sharp as she remembered. “But I think he was lying. Anyways, I was sad and lonely and when he waltzed inta town all fine airs and graces…I just…”

  “Fell for his charms?” Etu asked.

  “Yeah.” The heat of shame flooded her face. She had been such an innocent fool. If only she had saved herself for a night like she’d just had. But regret was a waste of time. It would serve no purpose other than to torment her. She could see that clearly now.

  “You’ll not be the first, Layla. Nor the last.” Charlie stroked her cheek. “Did he promise to send for you?”

  She nodded. “Varmint took all my money and said he’d send for me when he got to a suitable city to settle in. Said he needed the money to set us up a home where we could raise some children.” Children. How she had tried to squash that yearning. “Last I saw or heard of him was when he got on the steam train and waved goodbye.”

  “His loss is our gain.” Charlie spoke so softly that Layla wondered if she’d imagined what he’d said. Then he muttered, so soft that she could barely hear him, “If I ever get my hands on him…he’ll be sorry he was even born.”

  “So I had nothing left at all. That’s why I answered the advert. Mr Jackman seemed a preferable alternative to Al Swearengen’s saloon.” Bile rose in her throat. To be intimate with a man of your choosing was one thing – even with Henrik, at least it had been her choice – but out the back of the Gem theatre, she knew it would be different.

  “You’re no saloon girl!” Charlie growled and she jumped at his vehemence.

  “No…I’m not,” she agreed. “But what other choices did I…do I…have? Like today,” she shrugged. “I go with you to marry and to explain myself to Mr Jackman or I return to Deadwood to speak to Al.”

  “Or you could choose us.” Etu leant forwards and kissed her feet, pressing her toes so firmly against his mouth that they ached.

  “What?” Her heart leapt but her mind was foggy with fear and pain at the images of her unpalatable future. This couldn’t be real. She was projecting her hopes and longing onto them and just hearing what she wanted to hear.

  “Choose us, Layla.” Charlie kissed her cheek. “We’ll take care of you. I promise. You have no idea how much we have wanted to find you.”

  “We will do all that we can to make you happy,” Etu added. “And you would be happy with us. I know it.” He pounded his fist over his heart.

  Layla flicked her gaze from one man to the other and back again so quickly that it made her dizzy. “But what about your boss…?” She swallowed hard, trying to push the lump from her throat. What did they mean? She wanted so much to say yes but she couldn’t see how it would work. What were they offering? How was it possible?

  “Layla,” Etu laughed. “I’d like you to meet Mr Jackman.” He gestured at Charlie.

  Both men seemed to hold their breath following the announcement.

  Her mouth fell open. “But why didn’t you…say?”

  “When I caught up with you, Layla, you were so angry and confused that I wanted to find out more about you,” Charlie explained. “I was overwhelmed by your beauty and your…feisty attempts to escape but I didn’t know if you were a swindler. I…we…” he nodded at Etu “needed to know if you had fled with our money for genuine reasons or if you were in the habit of taking men’s money then running off with it.”

  “I see.” She chewed her lip. “And now?” She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. This couldn’t be real. How could she be so lucky?

  “And now…” Charlie pulled Etu closer to them and kissed him then he kissed Layla. It was an affectionate gesture between partners who were comfortable together. It made her feel that she was a part of what they shared. It felt right. “Now, sweetheart…I know a lot…and I mean a LOT more about you.”

  Layla smiled. He knew her more intimately than anyone ever had. They both did.

  “So whadda ya say, Layla?” Etu asked. His grin was so wide that it pulled his dimple apart. She gave in to her longing and kissed her finger then pressed it into his chin. She wanted to be able to do it every day, just to show him how adorably sexy she found it. Perhaps now she could.

  “How do ya fancy being the wife of a homesteader?” Charlie nuzzled her neck. Her nipples responded instantly.

  Layla grinned. Her heart was about to burst with joy. Life didn’t have to be one long harsh disappointment after all. She had an opportunity here to be really happy. It was a chance she was willing to take. A chance she couldn’t imagine not taking. The alternatives were just unthinkable and she didn’t have to pay them any more attention or consideration. Her future lay here, before her.

  “I say…yes please, Mr Jackman.”

  She shrieked as Charlie and Etu enveloped her in a hug and smothered her face with kisses, before collapsing with them in a passionate heap.

  If you loved Bound?

  Then turn the page for
an exclusive extract from the next book in The Wild, Wild West trilogy

  Scandal

  Chapter One

  “I tell ya, Ellen, I’m just not having it!”

  Ellen stared into the hard, dark eyes of Al Swearengen. Her heart thundered and she trembled from head to toe. The familiar aroma of stale sweat and whisky that permeated the bar of the Gem suddenly made her feel queasy.

  “It ain’t your choice to make, Al!” she snapped.

  She would not give in to him on this. She had every right now to follow her own heart. Her life would finally be her own.

  “But…what’ll I do without you?” Al wheedled. He held out his hands and tilted his head. “I need you here, Ellen. You’ve been with me since the outset. Besides…” He gestured around the saloon. “The girls need ya. How’ll they manage? Most of ’em will end up pregnant after a flop or two then try to get rid of it themselves and wind up dyin’ of a fever.”

  Ellen ground her teeth together and pressed her fists into her thighs. She tried not to look around at the faces of the whores but the urge was overwhelming. They gazed at her from all corners of the Gem, their painted faces haggard and drawn, their eyes sad and pleading.

  What Al said was true. They did need her.

  Her resolve started to drift away like gun smoke on the breeze.

  “Don’t you let him change yer mind!” Kacey appeared at her side. “You’re doin’ the right thing, honey! It’s time for you to get outta this hell hole!”

  “If you’re gonna listen to that dried-up old dove then you’re a bigger fool than I had ya pegged for!” Al shrugged then moved behind the bar and poured himself a slug of whisky.

  Ellen turned to Kacey. “I know that it’s time for me to go.” She straightened her corset and repositioned her breasts. “It’s just…I feel so responsible for all of you.”

  “I know, Ellen. You’ve been like a mother hen to us but you’ve a right to try out a different kinda life. Hell, we all envy ya! But not many whores have the determination to save a dime, let alone enough to set off into the world.”

  “The world?” Ellen grinned.

  “Well…Custer City at least,” Kacey shrugged.

  “Hell, it’s gotta be better than this place.” Ellen slapped her thigh. “An’ if it ain’t then I’ll just keep on goin’.” She hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll help ya pack.” Kacey strolled through the bar then up the three-tiered wooden staircase.

  Ellen followed, casting an apologetic glance at the girls as she passed them. Surely the time had come for her to cut the apron strings? It wasn’t easy for any of them. She knew that. She’d been where they were now. These poor daughters of Deadwood had little to make their lives bearable but Ellen had done her best for them. She’d protected them from Al’s fiercest rages, rescued them from violent customers and helped them to get rid of the babies they could never manage to care for. She had tried to ease the tragedy that surrounded them daily in the only way she could – by being there for them.

  But now it was her time. Time to leave and live a little while she still had the chance.

  She just wished that it wasn’t so difficult leaving them all behind.

  She’d been with Al since 1877, just after he’d opened the Gem. Thirteen years of her life dedicated to whoring then caring for the other girls. With her help, he’d rebuilt it following fire and flood. He was an old goat and could be hellish mean to the girls when his black moods took him. But he was all she’d ever known. Ellen had been just sixteen when he’d taken her in and she’d been swayed by his charm for, what, all of five minutes. Then she’d become a victim of his harsh treatment and bullying.

  And she had been so young and vulnerable then. Her mama had died of the smallpox and her stepfather had immediately taken up with another woman. An actress no less. He spent his days drinking and gambling away what money her mama had saved and Ellen was left with nothing. As a young woman, her choices were limited. She had gone to the handsome young Al Swearengen and naively asked him for employment, hoping that he would offer her a job cleaning the rooms or helping with the cooking. But he had coerced her into another role altogether. One flop led to another and before she knew it, she’d been whoring for a year with no prospect of escape.

  The years had passed and she had sunk into a kind of acceptance of her role. She was a whore. That was how it was. Whisky helped to numb the distaste and occasionally opium offered a complete numbness that helped her to drift away from her life altogether. But when one of the girls had overdosed on the drug, Ellen had weaned herself off it and sworn never to succumb to its deadly embrace again. It just wasn’t for her.

  Until finally, just after her twenty-seventh birthday, she’d found the bravery to stand up to Al and the lifestyle she loathed. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that changed in her, but something snapped. Perhaps it was losing that last little baby…She shook the image of the perfectly-formed little corpse from her mind. It could well have been that.

  And enough was enough. Al had given her a few days to recover from the miscarriage then told her to get on her back again. She had refused. Sure enough, she’d gotten a black eye and a few cracked ribs in the process as she had continued to refuse, but after that he left her alone and stopped trying to make her whore. She was surprised at his acceptance…amazed if she was honest…but he was a hard man to understand and, in the face of the opportunity to keep her pussy to herself, she didn’t want to question his intentions. So, instead of being ground into the straw-filled burlap ticking of an evening, she stayed on as a kind of nurse to the other girls, helping them with their daily scourging and treating them when they got poorly. It had suited her…for a while…as she continued to save the money she got paid for her new role. It wasn’t much but it was what she intended on using to support herself once she got to Custer City. After that, she’d find work cleaning or perhaps in a shop. She had to believe that there would be a way for her to earn money that didn’t involve opening her legs for a string of randy men.

  “Hey, Al,” she called from the bottom step. “I don’t want no trouble atwixt us, ya hear? It’s been a long journey and I just wanna move on now.”

  Who was she trying to convince?

  He gave her one of his sardonic smiles then raised his shot glass. “I wish ya well, ma dear! I wish ya well.”

  ****

  In the small messy bedroom, Ellen handed Kacey her silver-plated hairbrush.

  “Here, I want you to have this.”

  She turned and stood before the smudged full-length mirror, gazing at her sorry reflection. She’d changed so much in her time at the Gem. Her long black hair still shone but a few strands had turned white and, though her eyes were still as blue as cornflowers, they were hard and tired. If only she could turn back time to be a sweet and innocent sixteen-year-old once more.

  But she was almost twice that. And she doubted that she’d have the energy to go through it all again.

  “I can’t take your hairbrush.” Kacey shook her head as she ran her fingers over the bristles. “Wasn’t this from yer…gentleman friend? The special one.”

  Ellen moved away from the mirror and perched on the end of the bed. “Mr Hawkins. Bill.” It still hurt to say his name and regret swirled like a grey storm cloud at the edges of her mind.

  “That’s the one. Didn’t he ask yer to marry him?”

  Ellen’s heart sank. “He did indeed and I was fool enough to refuse him.” She picked at a loose thread on the colourful patchwork coverlet, twirling it between her fingers and trying to push the handsome face from her thoughts.

  “He was setting off to…” Kacey frowned. “What was it he wanted to do again?”

  Ellen laughed. “To help design a railroad that would cover the whole of America.”

  “That’s it!” Kacey jabbed her finger in the air. “Knew it was something real ambitious.”

  “And not that far-fetched.”


  “No for sure,” Kacey nodded, running the hairbrush through her fine red hair. “I’ll bet he’s living it up now in New York or some place. All fine and dandy in a big fancy house.” She pursed her lips and lifted her right hand to her mouth with the pinkie jutting outwards, holding an imaginary tea cup which she proceeded to drink from.

  Ellen laughed. Kacey always knew how to make her smile.

  “Probably got himself a sweet little wife who keeps it all in apple-pie order.” Ellen sighed and fell backwards on the bed. Somehow she couldn’t imagine herself as a sweet little wife. She tried to picture herself keeping house but her face just didn’t fit. Wearing a proper dress and a tidy hairstyle would just feel so strange. Yet wasn’t that what she was hoping for…once she quit Deadwood?

  Kacey lay down next to her, cradling the brush to her chest. “And why was you it you declined his offer?”

  Ellen swallowed the lump in her throat. “I was so young. I was confused. I felt some misguided sense of loyalty to Al for taking me off the streets. And, I guess…I had my head full of romantic nonsense and I thought that I didn’t love Bill.”

  “Love!” Kacey snorted. “Love is a dollar bill and two fingers of whisky. What I wouldn’t give for a man who offered me that every night.”

  They fell silent as they sank into their own thoughts.

  Kacey was right. Ellen had been a fool to refuse a man because of some naïve notion about needing to be in love. After years as a harlot, she doubted that love even really existed, at least not in the form she’d dreamt of as a girl. Men were weak creatures who obeyed their basic urges – the ones that told them to drink liquor and to stick their cocks into anything with a pussy. Even the married ones regularly made their way to the nearest whore house. She bet there wasn’t a decent one out there.