If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 105

Crash!

Just as they reached the edge of the garden, the sound of glass shattering rang out loudly.

What’s going on?

As Georgiana paused in confusion, about to pass through the tall shrubs, she was suddenly yanked backward.

“Shh!”

Locke wrapped one arm around her and clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream.

“There are suspicious individuals ahead. It’s best not to make a sound.”

Lowering themselves into the bushes as he instructed, they saw just as he had said—armed individuals with furious expressions storming into the mansion.

The ones in the lead had already made it inside, and now, the uproar of shouts and the screams of women echoed vividly through the windows.

A few gunshots followed in quick succession.

“So it was true that all the landowners were gathering here today.”

“Exactly. This is our chance to wipe them all out.”

“W-what if we get shot?”

“Shot or whipped, we’re dead either way. Then I’d rather die getting revenge for my dead family.”

Listening to the conversation of the men toward the back, Georgiana quickly grasped the situation.

Clad in ragged clothes, they were all slaves from the plantation.

She had long suspected the conditions here were ripe for revolt—but she hadn’t expected it to happen today.

Georgiana whispered to Locke, her face pale, “Raymond is inside. We have to rescue him.”

“The two of us alone?”

Locke asked, and Georgiana nodded without hesitation.

“We must.”

Clicking his tongue, Locke shook his head. “Charging in and taking down a few would do less good than going for help. Besides, Raymond isn’t weak enough to fall to people like them.”

“Still, there could be casualties in the meantime…”

Suddenly, with a thunderous crash, the terrace doors shattered and people poured outside.

Some were bleeding, already wounded.

At the front of the group stood Raymond, gun in hand. Thankfully, he appeared uninjured.

“Leona! Where are you?!”

Amid the chaos, he looked back and shouted her name.

Before Locke could stop her, Georgiana leapt to her feet and waved to him.

“Over here!”

Raymond breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing she was safe.

But just then, a group of men appeared behind him—armed, possibly having picked up weapons dropped by fleeing nobles.

They aimed their guns at Raymond.

“Watch out!” Locke shouted, pulling a gun from his coat.

Georgiana pitied the slaves—their situation left them little choice—but among those they were attacking were innocent people like Raymond. She couldn’t side with them.

She only hoped no one would die.

Bang.

Locke’s shot grazed one attacker’s shoulder, causing the man to cry out and drop his gun.

At that moment, Raymond ducked swiftly.

As the rebels hesitated at the injury of one of their own, Locke yelled to Raymond, “Get to the carriage! If we don’t meet again, I’ll see you back at the mansion!”

At a time like this, survival came before staying together.

Raymond gave Georgiana a worried glance, then nodded.

“This way.”

Once Locke saw that Raymond had safely retreated, he guided Georgiana through a path between the hedges.

“I know where the horses are tied. If they’re gone, we’ll have to walk back.”

His calm, measured voice was oddly reassuring despite the urgency.

If nothing else, she felt safe with him.

Georgiana resolved that even if she couldn’t help him, she wouldn’t be a burden. She grabbed the long hem of her gown and tore it.

The sheer lace ripped easily up to her calves.

“What are you doing?”

Locke stared in shock at the discarded fabric.

“We might need to run. This dress is too cumbersome.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Let’s just say I’ve had to run quite a bit—because of someone.”

Locke groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not saying it for an apology. Let’s go.”

Thanks to the guests fleeing in all directions, the group of slaves also scattered, leaving only a few pursuing her and Locke.

Unfortunately, when they reached the stables, the place was already in ruins and engulfed in flames.

Among the grooms collapsed on the ground, there was a familiar face.

Georgiana rushed to him, but sadly, he was already dead.

“We don’t have time.”

At Locke’s urging, Georgiana offered a brief prayer and covered the man’s face with a handkerchief from her pocket.

“Over there. That guy shot Layne.”

The injured man’s comrades pointed at Locke and called the others.

The two slipped through the dazed crowd and headed toward the sparsely populated forest.

It was dark, and they had to rely on moonlight, but Locke guided her as if he had a lantern, swiftly navigating the terrain. The landscape passed by in a blur.

“Ah!”

While fleeing, leaping over rocks and tree roots, Georgiana’s shoe slipped off, throwing her forward.

Locke, running beside her, caught her just in time to prevent a fall, but one of their pursuers had already raised a gun at him.

“Locke!”

Georgiana yanked him back with all her strength. The bullet, aimed at his chest, pierced his right forearm and lodged in the tree behind.

Flesh torn, blood gushed from the wound, but without a single groan, Locke held her close and rolled across the ground to dodge the next shot.

Simultaneously, he fired back, hitting one of the men.

While the others reloaded, Georgiana ducked behind a thick tree and tore more fabric from her skirt, wrapping it around his bleeding arm, which was still holding the gun.

The wound was severe, and the thin cloth quickly soaked through with blood. She could feel the tremble in his shooting arm.

“From now on, I’ll protect us. Stay behind me.”

Biting her lip, Georgiana pushed him aside and pulled her skirt up to her thigh.

“W-what are you doing?”

Locke, confused, turned and gasped at the sight of her exposed thigh.

Glancing briefly at him, Georgiana kept her eyes on the enemies as she skillfully drew a pistol from the leg holster strapped there.

“I have this, too.”

The black leg holster on her pale thigh had been custom-made at Bill’s suggestion. He had said it was the best place to hide a weapon, and since then, it had become her habit to wear it whenever going out.

Of course, this wasn’t the kind of situation she had imagined using it for.

Focusing completely, aware Locke’s life depended on her, Georgiana pulled the trigger without hesitation.

One man, having underestimated her for being a woman, charged in and was immediately shot in the thigh, collapsing on the spot.

Not letting her guard down, she aimed again.

When another man rushed her, thinking it a fluke, she put a bullet in his leg, just like his companion.

Finally realizing the danger, the rest of the group recoiled in fear.

Seeing her steady stance and firm grip on the revolver, Locke stared in awe.

“Hah… Incredible. I suspected you were good with a gun, but I didn’t expect a sharpshooter.”

“Is this really the time for jokes? Stop talking and take care of your wound.”

“I’m not joking. I truly mean it. Just… how have you been living all this time…”

He trailed off, then bowed his head low, as if realizing something.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“I don’t know about the rest of your life—just focus on staying alive.”

The makeshift bandage had already lost its effectiveness. Blood was still pouring out. She needed to tear more fabric to stop it, but with both hands on the gun, she could only hope he’d manage the bleeding himself.

If only she hadn’t tripped, he wouldn’t have been hurt.

Georgiana swallowed her bitterness.

“I had no intention of dying before, but now, seeing you like this, I’m even more determined to survive.”

Locke looked at her with deepened eyes.

Then, roughly wiping the blood away, he picked up his gun with his left hand.

“I told you—I’ve got this.”

Flashing a grin at her worried face, he slipped his finger through the trigger.

“Didn’t you know I’m ambidextrous?”