Elizabeth Delayne
Feb 15, 04
lizdelayne@hotmail.com
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride! Yeah right! Try always the punch server.
Ally smiled at the next person who stepped up to the table. "Punch or lemon-lime water?"
"Punch."
She tried not to grimace, and picked up a clear glass cup to carefully pour the pink liquid. Whoever had set the reception hall had chosen linen table clothes to spread over the tables. The deep pink color of the punch easily stained. It made her nervous ... it made her know that if she were ever married, she would serve something clear. In bottles.
That people could pick up for themselves.
Then she felt the person step behind her, the pressure at the small of her back.
"I need you to come with me."
Lorilyn M. Thompson
Feb 23, 04
lorilyn54@hotmail.com
Ally turned around to see a tall dark stranger holding a small pistol in his hand.
What on earth could be happening?
She was stunned into silence by the brute sight of the polished weapon.
Could she run? Was that an option?
Again he stated his demand. Then he quickly began to walk her to the door.
What was happening?
Where was she allowing him to take her?
She was concerned for herself, but the room was also filled with children. To deny him his wishes could possible lead to innocent bloodshed.
Once they were outside, he pushed her toward a small import car and secured her within.
She refused to let the impending tears fall and bring her utter disgrace. She had to think. They were away for the others now and she could make a run. If time or opportunity presented itself, she would escape this brooding man.
He remained quiet, but he was fast to notice the intensity of the woman that had just saved his life.
The enemy had been closing in when he ducked into the church and became an uninvited guest at the wedding reception.
He new this young woman must be scared out of her wits, but she had sass. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was scaring her as badly as he probably was.
Normally he didn't bring civilians into these matters, but he needed everyone to think he was a member of the party.
He came upon this young lady not looking at all excited about the task she was performing, and knew she would be his ally.
One glance at her had shown she was having a miserable time. Anyone who could be talked into serving punch at a wedding would be an easily manipulated person.
He hadn't expected her to be so strong-willed. She hadn't asked a single question. She just kept staring ahead, while he took her who knows where.
Maybe she was daft. He should ask her a few questions to make sure she wasn't in shock.
"I'm sorry; I had to involve you in this. If it were up to me, you would still be serving punch."
He looked at her again. Still no answer. She may really be going into shock. She stared out the window ahead without a blink or a reply.
He slowly moved the car over to a rest stop. Then like a bolt of lightning she was gone. He made his way out of the car and sprinted to catch her.
She was not easily entrapped. He finally caught her at the top of a small hill. He grabbed her, and thought for a moment had had lassoed a cougar. She fought with a strength he had witnessed in few women or men for that matter. How could he have ever thought he had picked a easy target.
Once he got control of her flying arms, he quickly reached into his pocket and produced his CIA credentials and flashed them in front of her face.
She began to calm and he eased his grip.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked " I was afraid you were some deranged lunatic about to mutilate me. I would have walked away from you before, except I was afraid you would kill the children."
She heaved and puffed. Realizing she had been used probably as a human shield she began to give a very firm stare at this demented man.
When she looked closely she noticed he was formally dressed. That must have been why no one questioned his presence at the reception. He was slightly over six feet tall and had a very pronounced physic. If she hadn't been madder than a wet hen right now, she would probably think he was the most handsome man she had every seen. He had a crown of dark hair cut short to emphasize the granite chiseled features of a god. My goodness but he was devilishly handsome, but that didn't matter he had used her. She was tired of everyone thinking that she could be used. She had been humiliated when she was asked to serve punch instead of be a bridesmaid. She had introduced those two for crying out loud, and what thanks did she get "punch server". It happened all to much in her life, and today this male-god had used her too. Enough was enough. She turned around and began walking away. Just as she did she saw the surprise light in his eyes. Did he really think she was going to stay her and talk to him in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road.
He was amazed at the fire that spewed forth from a creature he had considered mild at one time. It's a good thing she liked children, or his goose would be cooking right now. If looks could kill, he would be six feet under. She was hot and he couldn't blame her. He had used her. It was all in the name of survival. He had to make split second decisions sometimes, and this had been one of those times.
He couldn't believe it when she turned and walked away. Where did she think she was going? There were no people for miles. He had done his research on the area before his assignment. The nearest town was over 50 miles from here.
Mrs Brown
Jul 26, 04
mrsbrown1@optusnet.com.au
“Hey - lady,” he called after her as she stalked through the undergrowth back towards the rest area, “What do you think you’re doing? Look, I’m sorry, but I had no other option.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” she retorted without slackening her pace. It really was amazing how fast she could stride in those strappy shoes and long dress. His eyes wandered down to her beautifully shaped calves, of which he gained a tantalizing glimpse with her every long step. She must be a runner or an athlete.
“Slow up and listen for a minute. If you’ll just let me explain -”
“Do you know I really don’t care what your explanation is? That your little crisis is not of any interest to me whatsoever?”
She clenched her fists angrily, wishing she was wearing her favorite running shoes rather than this stupid outfit. Then she wouldn’t even have to stick around to listen to him, she’d have left him for dust and run off all the pent up anger and frustration at the same time. She’d needed to do that enough times growing up as the youngest child with four elder brothers who only thought of her when there was something they needed her. Like today. It had started with being asked to invite her friend Amy along to her all her brother’s social events, and somewhere along the way Amy had stopped being her friend and started being his fiancée. And of course it had been her sisters and her cousins who had been the bridesmaids - suddenly she was just the little sister again.
“I know this is inconvenient - but I really need you - just for another couple of hours.” The handsome stranger was beside her now, “The people that are . . . the people I’m trying to evade are looking out for a guy on his own, not a couple. I just need you to come with me to the next city; I can disappear easily enough there. I’ll give you as much money as you need for your fare back - taxi, hire car, whatever you want.”
“Thanks anyway, but no. I’m not getting back into that car with you, even if you do try pointing that gun at me again!” She shook her head firmly, unmoved by his persistence. As if all she lived for was to assist these poor helpless men who supposedly depended on her for deliverance. She knew it hurt most of all because no man ever seemed to see her in any other way - it was always other girls they thought of when it came to romance. She wasn’t unattractive, but her curly, sandy hair and slim boyish frame seemed to permanently mark her out for the role of every guy’s little sister. Their buddy, their confidante, but never their girlfriend. Since becoming a Christian a few years ago she was beginning to learn to trust in God’s plans for her life - but it was still a struggle to accept what seemed like terminal singleness.
“We’re fifty miles from anywhere, what are you going to do? Tramp through the woods? Hitchhike? Dressed like that?” he challenged, knowing what thoughts would pass through the mind of any male coming across such a beautiful young woman beside the road and alone.
“Sounds good.” she replied lightly, although what he said had rattled her. What was she going to do? The first step was to shake him off, and then . . . she’d just have to trust that God would provide some kind of direction. She only had his word for it that he really was a CIA agent anyway - his story was really as thin as a poor movie plot.
“There is no way I’m leaving you out here - I’ll have to figure out someway of getting you back safely.” he slipped his hand through her arm in a possessive way that both annoyed and frightened her.
She broke free of his grip and surged ahead, coming out into the clearing of the rest stop as she called back to him, “It’s a bit late to be thinking about my convenience now, isn’t it?”
She slowed up suddenly, a sleek silver car was parked beside his small one and two smartly dressed men where peering into it’s windows. They looked up at her approach and she saw that one was tall and fair, and the other, some years older, was silver haired with a darker complexion. Not father and son, but still, they might be her salvation.
“Yes, I’ve taken advantage of you, but get off your high horse long enough for us to sort this out!” Her captor called after her as her emerged from the woods behind her, obviously oblivious to the men’s presence.
“Is that man bothering you?” The elder man asked, his voice cultured and with a slight European accent.
“He certainly is.” She replied with a defiant toss of her head, which took in her dark haired pursuer as he approached the group. That one glance told her enough to make her stomach knot - the sudden intensity in his eyes and the tensing of his entire body made her suddenly realise that these were no mere passersby. Perhaps he was telling the truth after all. In that moment she had a crystal clear awareness that both their safety may depended on what she did in the next few minutes.
“We are undercover law enforcement officers,” the silver haired man continued smoothly, “and we are looking for a man that meets his description.”
“What - egotistical, chauvinistic and annoying?” she forced herself to laugh brashly, “But then that description would match most of the males I know.”
She detected surprise in the man’s eyes, “What are you saying? That you know this man?”
“Of course I know him! Do you think I’d be out here in the woods with a stranger? We had a . . .a difference of opinion at my brothers wedding reception - and he thought we should take a drive to cool off a bit before the happy couple arrived.”
She turned to face her dark haired companion, “I still think you were wrong.”
He shrugged carelessly, and glanced at his watch, “You always do. But people will start to notice if we don’t get back soon. Be seeing you.” he nodded nonchalantly to the two men, as he opened her car door and she climbed in.
He drove off slowly as they stood watching, but it was several seconds before either of them spoke.
“Do you think they bought it?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
“Not completely - but they weren’t sure.” He accelerated quickly once he was on the open road, “Does this mean you’ll help me?”
“I guess so.”
“Will they miss you at the wedding?”
She looked up at him and began to laugh, “No - probably not. At least, not until it’s time to clear up.”
Rachel Waspe
Apr 28, 05
Funshine999@aol.com
He stared at her in surprise. Where had that laugh come from? Just minutes ago she had been spewing anger the same way a volcano ejected molten lava and now...what had happened to the girl? The bubbly cheerfulness that literally flowed out in that laugh made her seem much younger than he had originally thought. Maybe serving punch hadn't agreed with her.
"I'm really sorry for taking you away from the wedding reception like that." He glanced sideways at her, keeping one eye on his rearview mirror. "I didn't realize that you were so close to the Bride and Groom. I really am sorry, Miss...?"
"Laurelson," she supplied. "Ally Laurelson. And how could you have known? Not many people would set someone so close to them serving punch!"
"Do I detect a trace of bitterness in your voice, Ally?" he asked, pleased that he had coaxed her name out of her without directly asking.
"If it weren't for me, those two wouldn't even know each other, let alone well enough to fall in love and get married. Amy used to be my best friend but since she got a guy and I didn't things have been different. Not that I would wish things differently for them...I mean I want them to be happy but sometimes I just wish..."
"That you were the one having a wedding?"
"Yeah, I suppose that's it. Hey, what are you doing?" Ally squealed as he pressed down on the accelerator and shot round the next corner at breakneck speed.
"Hang on sweetheart; we're in for one exciting drive. We've got ourselves a tail."
Mrs Brown
May 24, 05
mrsbrown1@optusnet.com.au
Ally clung to her seat belt to keep herself from being flung against him, then the car straightened and he increased his speed as they came out onto the straight. She watched with a kind of detached fascination as the needle on the speedometer continued to rise, and the trees by the roadside merged into an indistinct blur.
Her heart was pounding, and she knew she should be frightened - if not by the strangers following them then by the strange man beside her - but she wasn't. Instead she felt buoyed by the rush of adrenalin and the unaccustomed thrill of danger. Ally turned in her seat and surveyed the road behind her.
"Looks like we've lost them!"
"For the moment, anyway. As long as we don't hit any slow traffic before the highway we might outrun them," the young man replied, leaning one arm along the window ledge as if he drove at that insane speed every day of the week. "Then once we get off the highway and into the city, I'll send you back home."
"Back in time to clean up the punch." Ally stifled a sigh, almost disappointed by the tame ending he was offering. "Do you happen to have a name, by the way? Or do I just call you Bond?"
He laughed, becoming more intrigued by this complex young woman by the minute. Her anger had disappeared so quickly, and the humor and sharp wit which had superseded it were entrancing.
"Alex. Alex Thornton," he replied, "I just wish we could have met under slightly more normal circum- Oh heck!" He broke off as a black car parked on the opposite shoulder suddenly accelerated onto the road, curving like a scythe toward them.
There was a loud retort, and their car suddenly shuddered and Alex took his foot off the accelerator as they began to weave drunkenly.
"Shot out the back tire," he muttered under his breath, "now things are going to get interesting."
Glancing over her shoulder, Ally saw that the first silver car had reappeared behind them, gaining distance rapidly.
"Just around the bend, there's an overgrown turning . . . there used to be a mine near here. There's a tunnel . . .they wouldn't know to follow us through there," she told him urgently.
He looked at her intently, quickly calculating her words but still unconvinced.
"Trust me - my brothers used to dodge the highway patrol that way when they were drag racing," she insisted, "Hard right now!"
Just when she was sure he wouldn't take her suggestion, Alex yanked the wheel suddenly, and with a noisy hail of gravel they left the tar and rocketed into the undergrowth. Branches flicked against the windscreen as they rattled over the long forgotten dirt track.
Moments later they were plunged into the darkness of the old tunnel, the sound of metal sheering against concrete making Ally grimace as they came to a shuddering halt.
