Yesterday's Roses (24 page)

Hallie shrank from his intimately probing fingers, too stunned from the blows to her head to do much else. As he pressed against her, trapping her between his body and the rough surface of the wall, she could smell the cloying scent of his cologne.

“Mr. Connelly,” she pleaded, feebly attempting to push him away. “I don't—”

In one savage motion, he ripped open the tattered remains of her bodice and watched hungrily as her breasts were exposed. He groaned with pleasure. They were perfect. All round and white, with nipples like ripe cherries. Nick couldn't resist the temptation to swoop down and sink his teeth deep into one creamy globe.

Shrieking with pain and outrage, Hallie lunged forward, throwing all of her weight against him. The surprise of her counterattack knocked him backward a few inches, freeing Hallie's hands, which had been pinned between their bodies.

Blindly she clawed at his face. Nick Connelly howled like a wounded coyote as her nails found their mark, and he released his hold on her hair to grab at his lacerated face. As he drew back to stare at the blood on his hands, Hallie took her opportunity to escape and darted toward the street.

But she had seriously underestimated Connelly's recuperative powers. She was shocked by the impact of his body as he hurled himself at her back. Tumbling to the hard-packed ground with Nick on top of her, she heard him shout, “I'll teach you to cut Nick Connelly! I'll make you sorry the notion ever entered your mind!”

Tangling his hands in her hair, he gave it a scalp-rending yank that made her scream in agony. “Shut up,” he hissed and jerked her head up to deliver a glancing blow across her cheek.

Hallie sobbed as she felt the sickening sensation of blood welling her mouth, though the rest of her face was numb from the impact of his assault. This had to be a nightmare! How could something so awful be happening to her? But another slap reassured her that it was no dream.

Nick groaned aloud as the sight of his victim's humbled state heated his lust to a fever pitch. With her cheeks red from his repeated strikes and blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, she was too exciting to resist. Damn it! And he had looked forward to making her suffer for a good, long time. Yet, as he stared down at the lady doctor lying helplessly beneath him, her face a tear-streaked mask of terror, he was filled with an aching need to take her now—and quickly. Right here in the filth of the alley.

Panting with desire, he wrestled Hallie onto her back, easily pinning her fists to the ground above her head with one sizable hand.

Straddling her hips, he hissed, “I'm going to enjoy hearing you scream while I force you to take this—” He ground the swollen evidence of his need against her belly.

Hallie willed herself to go limp as Nick Connelly twisted slightly to draw her soiled skirts up her legs. She didn't dare move or make a sound, for fear that he would beat her completely senseless. As he ran his hand up the length of her thigh, stopping to claw impatiently at her sheer batiste pantalettes, a desperate idea blossomed in her muddled brain.

Cursing, Nick bent down to loosen the waistband of her drawers, widely straddling her legs. Hope gave Hallie courage, and with all the strength she could muster from her abused body, she brought her knee up and slammed it into the sensitive juncture between his legs.

He released an agonized scream. Stunned by the intensity of the pain, he clutched at the damaged area and then crumpled to the ground beside Hallie, where he lay in a whimpering heap.

Shivering uncontrollably, Hallie forced herself to rise to her knees. She glanced over at the Chinese girl, who hadn't moved or made a sound since Nick had thrown her against the wall. She had to get help! But as she tried to gain her feet, she was overcome by a fierce queasiness that doubled her over, making her retch miserably. By the time her stomach was empty, her head was reeling crazily and she buried her face in her hands in an attempt to regain her equilibrium.

Hallie remained in that position until a groaning threat from Nick pierced her agony-filled haze. Staggering like a sailor with three pints of rotgut down his gullet, she wove in an unsteady gait toward the end of the alley. Clutching at her head, she was about to step out into the safety of the open street when she fell against the unyielding wall of a solidly built body. As her arms were grabbed in an iron grip, her mind shrieked in panic,
Oh, Lord! What now?

With a choked sob, Hallie forced her eyes to focus on the bright buttons of the man's dark uniform. Rolling her head back, she stared rather stupidly into the scowling face of a policeman. Relief penetrated her disoriented mind, and with a sigh, she collapsed against the man's chest.

“How often have I warned you doxies to stay off the streets?” he lectured, giving her a shake that made her stumble. “I won't have you accosting decent folks, do you hear? And just look at you! Drunk as an Injun! Why, I have half a mind to—”

But the officer's tirade was cut short by a moan that escalated into a gasping sob.

“What's that?” bellowed the policeman, staring suspiciously into the shadowed darkness of the alley.

Roughly dragging Hallie behind him, the officer stalked over to the whimpering figure on the ground. Squinting down at the prostrate man, he expelled, “Jeez! It's my man, Nick Connelly!”

Nick sobbed mournfully, “Not much of a man anymore, Tully. The whore kicked me in my privates.” He rubbed at the damaged area, moaning with renewed drama. “Hired her and her Chink friend for a little fun. Paid them generously, too. They lured me into the alley, promising me a real good time, and then they tried to rob me. Seems as if a man can't take his pleasure these days without risking his life!”

“That's a lie!” shrieked Hallie, shaking an accusing fist at Nick Connelly. “I'm certainly no prostitute! This filthy excuse for a man tried to rape me.”

Officer Tully eyed Hallie dubiously for a moment, his gaze taking in her disheveled appearance. Then he snorted his disbelief. “Seems to me that only a whore would know where to kick a man to do the most damage. Jeez!” He shuddered in sympathy.

“What do you intend to do about this, Tully?” Nick's face was the very picture of wounded innocence as he looked up at the officer. “Surely you can't let her continue robbing and emasculating decent men?”

“I kicked him because he would have raped me!” Hallie shouted in frustrated rage. “He was beating that girl over there.” She gestured desperately at the still form lying several yards away. “And when I tried to stop him, he turned on me. Then he tried to rape me! Can't you see he's lying?”

“I've known Nicholas Connelly since the strike in '49. Worked the North Fork together. You get to know a man pretty well after sixteen years. Never known Nick to fib, and I can't imagine he'd have a reason to start now. Isn't that right, Nick?”

A grunt of affirmation seemed to satisfy the policeman.

“He lied because he's guilty of assaulting two innocent women!” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at Nick in a menacing fashion.

The man released a strangled cry and curled his body into a protective ball.

“Enough!” roared Officer Tully, frowning at the exchange. “It's high time I made an example out of one of you whores. You're starting to get way too bold for my liking.” He roughly seized Hallie's arm and began pulling her toward the street. “Let's just see how impertinent you feel after enjoying a few days of hospitality—courtesy of the Broadway Street jail!”

“Damn heathen Chinee!” snarled the young policeman running his hand over his head to smooth the few remaining strands of blond hair. “Knows how to kick up a ruckus—that much's for sure.” Spitting on the floor, he tossed a look of undisguised contempt at the screeching girl huddled on the cot.

“If you don't shut up, and quick-like, I'll give you something to holler about!” he threatened, advancing forward a step.

But the girl was oblivious to the man's presence, lost in her own private hell, and she emitted another series of shrieks while clawing convulsively at the rough woolen blanket.

As swiftly as a striking serpent, the officer grabbed the girl's shoulder and gave her a bone-jarring shake while barking something in Chinese.

“No! Don't!” gasped Hallie. But as she made to spring from the cot where she sat braced against the wall, she was overcome with a dizziness that made her sink back with a groan.

The man paused his yapping tirade long enough to glower at Hallie through narrowed eyes, then turned his attention back to the young girl squirming in his grasp.

Giving his prisoner another jerk, he continued his diatribe, punctuating his words at intervals by jabbing his thumb in Hallie's direction. The Chinese girl lifted her head high enough to fix the flame-haired woman with a horrified stare and then, giving a strangled moan, shrank tightly against the cot.

Whatever the officer had said had the desired effect, and the girl, struck silent now, curled into a tight fetal position, her face a twisted mask of tearful despair. Giving his prisoner a final warning look, the man jabbered one last barrage in Chinese and then shoved her away, expectorating a foamy stream of spittle for good measure. Then he turned to leave.

As he brushed past Hallie, she made a desperate grab for his arm.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, latching on to his elbow. “You can't just leave her here!”

The officer impatiently shook his arm free from Hallie's grip, not even bothering to look down. “Can't I?” he asked in a taunting voice as he sauntered toward the barred door. “Just watch me.”

“No! Please.” Hallie's voice had taken on an urgent quality that made the man stop in his tracks. “Can't you see that this woman has been badly beaten and is in need of medical care?”

The policeman let his gaze travel between the two women for a moment as he seemed to consider her words. Then he shrugged and pushed open the cell door.

“Are you stupid or just blind?” Hallie was relieved to see the man pause at her berating tone. Though his expression didn't bode well, she forced herself to brazen it out.

“This woman should have been taken to a hospital, not to this hellhole.”

The man leaned against the door, stroking at his luxuriant side-whiskers, and stared at Hallie smugly. “Oh? And what hospital do you suggest?” he drawled. “Can't think of any Chinee hospital offhand.”

Hallie returned his gaze coolly. “Surely you're not suggesting that this woman would be denied medical care simply because she happens to be Chinese?”

“I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you. There's not a white hospital or doctor in this town who would tend a Chinee.”

“Then you're wrong.” Their eyes remained in silent combat for several tense moments before she broke the spell with a superior-sounding snort, “I happen to be a doctor at the Mission Infirmary, and I would suggest you release me this instant so I can see to this girl's care.”

“Right. A female doctor.” He snickered as skeptically as if she had just announced that she was running for the presidency of the United States. “Well, Doctor, what I suggest is that you stop your whining and tend to your patient.” With that, he slipped out the door and gave it a decisive slam shut.

“Please.” Hallie rose to her still wobbly legs and staggered the short distance to the door. As she wrapped her hands around the bars for support, the officer looked up from his grappling with the jammed door lock and frowned. Forcing herself to look contrite, Hallie pleaded, “Please, Officer—?”

“Brady,” he supplied, banging on the problematic lock.

“—Brady,” she echoed with an ingratiating smile. “I really do need to get this woman back to the infirmary. As you can see, I don't have the proper equipment here to help her. If you could just open this door and let me—

“You're not going anywhere—” he interjected, grunting with satisfaction as the lock clicked into place, “—either of you. At least not without Judge Dorner's say-so.”

“Then, for God's sake, get the judge.”

With a pleased smile, Officer Brady removed the key and tested the door by giving it a pull. It held securely. As he reattached the key to the heavy ring hanging from his belt, he replied, “You can see the judge day after tomorrow. He left distinct orders that he was not to be disturbed today. Seems he's having a big Christmas Eve party tonight. And, tomorrow being Christmas Day, well, wouldn't want to disturb the judge on account of a couple of antsy whores.”

“But the girl—”

“Judge doesn't give a damn about a Chinee whore—or a white one, for that matter.”

“But—”

“No buts about it. You'll see the judge day after tomorrow.” Jerking his head decisively, Brady spun on his heel and headed down the corridor.

“Wait!” Hallie shrieked, loudly enough to make him turn and scowl in her direction. “Can you at least ask her what's wrong?”

He spat on the floor. “Do I look Chinee to you?”

“But I heard you speak Chinese, and the girl seemed to understand what you said.”

“Oh. Well, I know a few words here and there. Enough to get my point across.”

He winked at Hallie in an infuriating manner that made her long to shout a few select words of her own.

“And just what point did you get across?” Hallie ground out, hating herself for asking, yet curious about what had struck such terror into the girl's face.

“Why, I simply told her that if she didn't stop yapping, I'd turn her over to you. Nothing scares a Chinee whore more'n the thought of being sent to the mission.”

“Why?” But Hallie's question hung in the air unanswered, for the policeman was halfway down the hall, whistling a rousing rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as he went.

In the hours that followed, Hallie had no time to reflect upon the man's strange words. The afternoon had crept by unnoticed, and the fuchsia glow of the setting sun now failed to draw even a quick sigh of appreciation from either woman. Somewhere deep in the bowels of the jail, someone sang snatches of a Christmas carol, but even that didn't get any more than a passing grimace from Hallie.