Under The Moonlight

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jasmine hitched a breath when she felt the cool gun barrel touch her forehead. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t move. What was she to do? This mad physician was going to kill her and Andrew in the blink of an eye without hesitation. Wide eyed, she stared at Andrew, hoping for some kind of miracle as she internally prayed for one. But his eyes said it all: he had no plan; he didn’t know what to do.

 Blinking back another round of tears, she felt her heartbeat quicken at Mr Smith’s dark chuckle.

“Pity you could do nothing to save her, Andrew,” he drawled.

He was mocking him, she realized. If he shot her, then Andrew would feel guilty about everything and blame himself for her death. She could already see his conflicted emotions running across his face. And if Mr Smith didn’t kill him, would Andrew kill him instead? Possibly.

Not wanting to find out whether her assumptions would prove correct, she took a deep breath and did something no lady should ever do – she drove the heel of her slipper right into his groin. Howling in pain, he doubled over, loosening his grip on her. She then elbowed him in the back, making him fall flat on his face.

Jasmine moved out of Andrew’s way as he lunged at the physician, prying the gun from his fingers. She still felt the adrenaline rushing through her, but she didn’t know what to do with it. The two men were fighting each other on the ground, Andrew having the advantage because he was younger. She kicked the firearm out of Mr Smith’s reach when he’d stretched his hand out to it, causing Andrew to deliver more blows to his face.

“Andrew!” she cried, seeing Mr Smith’s body hang limp. “Andrew, please stop!”

With one last kick to the older man’s side, Andrew straightened, disgusted with the bloody-faced man lying on the floor. How dare he try to harm Jasmine!

“Are you alright?” he asked her softly.

Shaking her head, Jasmine rushed into his embrace and softly cried both tears of sadness and tears of joy. “I was… so scared,” she hiccoughed.

He pulled her closer, only just remembering how she’d delivered a powerful kick at the physician. Indeed, she surprised him with such a feat and he was glad she had acted so quickly. If she hadn’t…

“I was scared as well,” he mumbled.

Neither of them noticed the physician’s arm moving to his inner coat pocket. He withdrew another smaller gun, and cocked it – that brought their attention to him. Before anyone could react, the eardrum-pounding sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the room.

But it wasn’t Mr Smith’s gun that was fired. He had been knocked back to the ground and his cream-coloured waistcoat held a crimson blot that was slowly growing larger at his side.

Standing in the doorway was none other than James Knight himself, blowing off the smoke from his pistol in an overconfident fashion.