Part 22

Max felt his breathing grow shallow, his chest too constricted with rage to breathe properly. He watched with a predatory eye as the crowd grew larger, drawn in by the spectacle. He watched Liz as she twisted and turned within her molesters' grasps.

He felt rooted to the spot, afraid that if he attempted to move he would charge like a beast and tear them apart. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for control, knowing he had never felt so violently about anything before. It unnerved him greatly, and he didn't even know why. His breathing grew laboured. He knew he was wasting precious seconds.

Yet he took a moment to compose himself. For as much as he wanted to rip those bastards' hands off from her body, his first impulse was to push them away and strangle her. His second was to drag her away and show her how a real lover performs his seduction, leaving no room for hysterical behaviour. He shook his head, sending those thoughts away.

Questions bombarded him. How did she get here? what was she doing here? how did she even manage to get herself in this situation? He didn't stop to think of answers. He'd rescue the troublesome wench from their clutches, but he wasn't sure she'd be safe within his. He was that furious.

The grab of one of the men's hand to her breast and Liz's outraged shriek snapped him out of his stupor. His eyes narrowed and glittered dangerously. His hand on the handle of his rapier, he forgot his inhibitions and charged ahead.

He pushed his way into the crowd making his way to the center. Without further thought he marched to the most threatening of the men. The one who had his hand on her breast. He would indulge in shock and scolding later. He had never gone to any kind of battle without a plan. Hell...right now he didn't know how many of the thugs there were. His mind only on Liz. As soon as he was within reach, he made for the man most menacing to Liz's safety.

Liz cried out in fear and outrage when the horrible man grabbed her breast. He squeezed, rough and hard. Liz gritted her teeth, shuddering at the touch. Max's touch was nothing like this.

Liz froze for an instant, blinking rapidly. She couldn't believe that she was fighting for her life and all she could think about was how Max touched her. More in shock, she couldn't believe she could think that in any situation.

The thought of him unexpectedly brought tears to her eyes. She suddenly wished he was here. Looming, large and masculine. He would keep her safe. She wouldn't have minded so much to burrow herself in his strong arms. A shocking thought. She must be too delirious with fear. Yes that must be it. No wonder she couldn't think straight.

She could not believe how she got into this mess. She had successfully jumped overboard and began to swim to the other side. Freedom with her reach. Then, curse her bad luck, a nearby ship had spotted her and sent a rowboat after her. It held those brute, damn them.

Praising themselves for "saving her life". Liz snorted inwardly at that. She tried however to play it out by pretending gratitude and bidding them good day.

"Gentlemen I cannot thank you enough for your rescue. If you had not come in time i do not what would have happened to me. I could have died." Liz had trilled in a maidenly despairing voice. The men had puffed out their chest and smiled smugly.

Yet her plan was not destined to succeed.

After a closer perusal of her person, the look in their eyes darkened and lit with lust. Liz swallowed in dread realizing belatedly that she was a woman, alone, and her dress was clinging to her like a second skin. She knew without a doubt what they had in mind. Her panic rising she attempted escape, yet she was outrun, outnumbered, and outweighed. She ended up being hefted like a sack of potatoes on one of their shoulders.

She couldn't help but remember a time when she was in a similar position, when she had begun her so-called adventure. Max's shoulder was definitely more appealing that the present one. The previous one had smelled musky warm and masculine with a hint of soap, while this one smelt like whiskey, fish and a heavy body odour. Liz opted to breathe through her mouth.

She then caught herself. She was being kidnapped again and about to be raped, and here she was comparing shoulders. Liz almost rolled her eyes.

While struggling she heard them discuss the more suitable comforts of an inn bed than a cabin for her to "repay" them. Managing to kick her holder in the stomach as a last desperate attempt to break free only served to earn her a throbbing toe and a smack to her backside before he secured her legs so she wouldn't try anymore tricks. Her pounding fists at his back went unheeded. She doubted he could feel them at all through that thick muscle. She stopped after they began to ache badly.

At the moment being dragged into the street towards a convenient inn as she was, she decided resolutely not to go down without a fight. So, as they did not take the time to gag her she began to struggle anew and opened her mouth to scream at the top of her lungs. The men stopped in their tracks startled by this turn of events, stricken by the awful scream erupting from her. Obviously they did not count on handling a shrew.

People stopped and stared, some staying put to watch in curiosity, some torn, not knowing if this was a distress call or not. Liz regained her breath and sent another scream. This time in utter frustration. What are these people doing! why won't someone come save me?

The men tried to subdue but it was as if a demon possessed her. She would not surrender to them. To anyone.

She was thrown off the shoulder and grabbed again in an attempt at more forceful domination. She was acting like a she-cat but she knew compared to them her efforts were puny. She knew they had figured that out when they started to laugh. They moved in to crowd her. The brute holding her reached up and gripped her breast. His face was then inching towards hers.

Liz drew back in disgusted horror, realizing that he was about to put his filthy mouth on hers. Quickly she sent a silent prayer, asking for help. For a saviour. The sailor squeezed her breast, she cried out. His face was inches from hers. She closed her eyes in expectant defeat.

Then she was let go. He eyes opened in the momentum and she watched as he was thrown away from her savagely. He landed on his back and a pair of black boots moved to stand over him. Liz's gaze moved up the boot-filled calves, the strong thighs, to the flat belly and muscular chest. Before she reached the beautifully corded neck she knew who it was.

Her body vibrated with the knowledge. When she reached that oh so familiar face, she felt like fainting, in relief and so as not to see that ferocious look on his face. Then their eyes met. Liz wasn't sure but she thought they softened a bit. Must have been her imagination because they grew hard and cold so suddenly Liz wished she could just disappear into thin air.

It was with a feeling of relief to find out that the brunt of that look was not on herself. The fact that as soon as the look returned he twisted to glare at the groaning man on the ground, tipped her off. Suddenly she was feeling exhilarated. Her saviour had come, and it was even more welcoming in the form of Max.

Max had the most intense urge to howl. He watched as the sailor moaned and rolled onto his hands and knees, slowly rising to his feet. He swayed. Drunk. Typical. He won't have the satisfaction to challenging the man sober but in the current situation he couldn't complain. He would be easier to take down. If his friends didn't interfere.

"What the 'ell" Rafe growled as he shook his head in an attempt to clear it. So Rafe was it...he though when he heard his companion ask him if he was alright.

"Stand up Rafe. You're about to regret your actions today." Max's deep threatening voice echoed through the hushed crowd. From the corner of his eye he saw Liz swallow. He would deal with her later. After a short examination with his eyes, though he imagined his hands and lips there instead, he was satisfied that she was virtually unharmed.

Rafe looked up towards Max. Confusion clouded his vision then anger sprang forth when he seemed to realize Max was the culprit disrupting his entertainment.

"Just what the hell d'you think yer doin'" he moved towards him, meaty fists clenched, ready at any moment to connect with any part of Max's body.

Max seemed unconcerned, "I was maintaining what was mine." he replied darkly, sending him a dangerous glare. Rafe still looked confused after a moment, but when he glanced at Liz his face cleared.

"Don't tell me yer talkin' bout this wench 'ere," Rafe waved in her general direction while chuckling,"If she's yours mate then why aint she with you?" he continued with a smug look. His friends cheered him on,probably awed by his 'intelligence'.

Max glanced at Liz and he thought he saw her wince. Good. He raised an eyebrow at Rafe. "That 'mate' is none of your business." He said that in such a condescending tone that it rankled Rafe. He snarled his anger.

"You do what ye want with yer business, the wench is mine." he stated and made to grab Liz once again. Max took a threatening step forward while Liz reflexively stepped back from Rafe's hand,

"I wouldn't touch her if i were you."

"Well ye aint me." he replied and he and his friends broke into drunken laughter at his retort. Perhaps his first ever smart one. While he was drunk at that. Max moved like a cat and deflected his hand with his own when he made to grab her again.

Rafe growled and in a rage turned to aim a fist at Max's face. Max successfully ducked out of the way and aimed his own clenched hand at Rafe's side. He stumbled back and groaned in pain but rallied and retaliated by swinging his arm out as he turned and hit Max in the shoulder.

Max twisted on impact but didn't cry out. He would betray no sound of pain or weakness. Steeling himself he launched himself at Rafe with a swift right hook to the nose. Rafe's head snapped up and blood began to spurt from his nose. With a yowl he charged at Max.

Max being lighter and swifter on his feet easily dodged the oncoming charge and waited till Rafe turned back around, black with rage. He did, and when he made his way at him again Max extended his foot in a kick that sent Rafe stumbling over along with the momentum and onto the ground once again.

Now oblivious to anything but Rafe Max made his way to him, waited until Rafe regained his feet before bombarding him with a series of hard punches.

"This is for being a drunk" he aimed for his jaw. "This is for abusing the weaker" he hit his eye. "And this is for messing with what's mine" he raged and aimed at his abdomen sending Rafe stumbling back.

Being a big man however it didn't take long for him to regain balance. With the look of drunken rage he jumped onto Max, sending them both onto the ground. The crowd closed around them as they watched, cheering, the men tussle and struggle on the ground, rolling over trying to gain control of the other. Punches and kickes were exchanged. It was unclear who was being injured the most however.

Suddenly Rafe pulled back his leg and hurled a god-awful kick straight at Max's lower anatomy. Max's couldn't help his cry of pain as he rolled into a fatal position cupping his loins, trying to lessen the pain. Rafe laughed and got to his feet. Blood smeared his face and he appeared to have a broken nose and swollen eye. In any event he looked much worse than Max. He deserved it the bastard. Especially for playing dirty and gaining an unfair advantage on Max. It was pathetic, and a failed testimony to his strength and whatever honor he had.

Without another thought he had turned his attention back to Liz and with a leer made his way to her. Liz couldn't move from the shock, and her own sudden pain at seeing Max suffering. Especially because he had tried to save her. He was lying there and it was all her fault. She was too oblivious to Rafe's intentions as she watched him approach because he mind was still on Max.

She didn't even realize the crowd had hushed. Rafe had barely touched her because there was the sound of ripping wind and a hissing sound.Wonderingly Liz saw Rafe freeze. She turned her head.

Max was but a foot away. His deadly rapier drawn and aimed directly at the back of Rafe's neck.