Belle - Lesley Pearse [209]
‘Shut your mouth!’ Pascal roared at him. Belle nodded her head at Etienne as the man shifted his feet, and as her hand came up to swipe away the knife from her throat, Etienne leapt towards them, catching Pascal by his shoulders and pushing him hard against the wall.
Belle had slithered to the floor; Etienne couldn’t pause to check if the knife had wounded her, he had to concentrate on beating Pascal into submission. Holding him back against the wall with his left hand, he punched him in the belly with all his strength, winding him, and heard the knife fall from his hand to the floor.
It was several years since Etienne had last beaten anyone. His reputation was such that most troublemakers or double-crossers backed down when he came after them. He had always prided himself on using only the minimum of force needed to suppress or control someone he’d been sent after. But he had stored up anger since he lost Elena and the boys, and as he looked down at Pascal holding his belly, he felt murderous at what he’d done to Belle.
He caught hold of the man’s neck, bringing him up to his own height, and punched him in the face with his full force. He heard the man’s cry for mercy as blood erupted from his smashed nose, and that goaded him further, so he caught hold of his head and banged it back against the wall over and over again.
‘No more, Etienne,’ Belle yelled out. ‘You’ll kill him. Tie him up and let the gendarmes deal with him.’
Hearing her voice brought him out of the dark place he’d slipped into and he let Pascal slide down the wall to the floor, unconscious.
He turned to see Belle standing there, Pascal’s knife in her hand, tears running down her cheeks making white tracks through the blood and grime. Her hair was matted and she was still naked.
‘There’s rope under the mattress,’ she sobbed. ‘Just tie him up and let’s get out of here.’
Etienne picked up the blanket from the bed and wrapped it round her.
Suddenly they both heard the sound of breaking glass downstairs. Etienne guessed it was Noah and Philippe, but Belle quaked visibly. ‘Don’t be scared, that’s reinforcements,’ he said, holding her to him tightly. ‘It’s all over now. We’re going to take you somewhere safe.’
Chapter Thirty-four
Etienne couldn’t bear the sound of Belle whimpering any longer. Twenty-four hours had passed since he had rescued her from Pascal, and Philippe had arranged for her to be brought to this private nursing home. A doctor had attended her as soon as she got here, and he’d dressed the wound on her belly, which mercifully wasn’t deep enough to need stitching. He said he thought she would recover completely with rest and good food. Etienne had taken it upon himself to keep a vigil outside her door as he felt the doctor was being too complacent about what she’d been through.
He opened the door and went in. It was a small, all-white room with an iron bed and a wooden crucifix above it. One of the nurses had lit a night-light when it grew dark, and Belle’s hair stood out in stark relief against the white bed linen.
‘Can’t you sleep?’ he asked gently. ‘Would it help if I sat beside you in here? Or would you like to talk?’
‘I’m afraid to fall asleep,’ she whispered. ‘I think I’m scared I’ll wake up later and find I’d dreamt you rescued me. I don’t even understand how you found me.’
After what she’d been through Etienne found it unsurprising that she’d hardly said a word after her rescue. He thought it was quite possible she’d never be able to tell anyone exactly what Pascal had done to her, though the bleeding, bruises and her terror told much of the story. But he thought it was a good sign that she had questions to ask.
‘Noah and I have been like your English Sherlock Holmes,’ he said lightly, perching on the edge of the bed. ‘We snooped, bullied and pushed our way into finding you. What was that phrase Holmes used to say to his companion? “Elementary, my dear Watson.” ’
He was rewarded with a faint ghost of a smile.
‘Who is Noah? He spoke as if he