HIS II | Arthur Morgan x Reader

Revelations

A/N: All image credits to Instagram youralrightgurrrl


Thunder rumbles in the sky, like a warning. The air is hot and sticky, and Arthur's shirt clings to his body making him feel suffocated. He barely notices the first spots of rain; the droplets merely blend into his sweat-soaked shirt.

Flicking open his revolver he counts the bullets, full- hopefully, he can keep it that way.

"What were you thinking Mary?" he clicks back the chamber.

The ride down had been fast, his anger spurring him on, but with each mile that passed his vengeance seeped away, by the time he reached St-Denis all that remained was fear. Fear for you, fear for his children, and fear for what he had gotten his family into. The realization startled him because had he been a younger man, he wouldn't have hesitated to storm in guns blazing and shoot anyone that stood in his way. But he couldn't risk the children being hurt in the crossfire. He had to play this carefully.

If this is considered personal growth, he hated it.

Securing the gun on his hip he takes a final look for the police before striding towards the house. At the front door, he pauses but thinks better of it, easing open the door he slips inside. It looks as it did when he left, the floor immaculate, the flowers perfectly arranged. The aesthetic of old money was flawless, and a stark contrast to the home he shared with you.

He fights back the thought; he can't think of that now he has to get to the kids. Stalking along the wall he rounds to where he knows the kitchen sits, if he timed this right a maid would be making her afternoon tea by now. Rounding the corner he sees her, the maid he'd spoken with to find your pills. Thinking back, he was certain she knew something was wrong, but he'd mistook her reluctance to help as sabotage.

"Hands up sweetheart." He breaths behind her, pressing his gun to the small of her back.

She whimpers, and her hands shake as she raises them. Her eyes catch his in the cupboard's glass.

"P-please, d-don't hurt me."

He had no intention of hurting the young woman, his finger wasn't even on the trigger, but the fear was to his advantage.

"Where is she?" he whispers into her ear, bringing his arm across her chest and forcing her tight to the gun. "And don't think I'm above shooting ya if ya don't know."

"P-parlor." She gulps.

"Good girl." He keeps his hold tight as he walks her forward, "Let's go say hello."

The maid works as expected. Mary immediately jumps to her feet and stumbles back to the wall.

"A-Arthur. You're here." It wasn't a question. She clutches her chest and Arthur feels his fingers flex against the gun. Her hair and makeup are flawless, muting any fear her face may have shown.

"My wife Mary?" he fights to keep steady but the anger creeps through, lowering his voice until it resembles a growl. The maid flinches in his arms but he's focused on the woman in front of him. Confronted with her now, red bleeds into his vision, "What was the plan, Mary? Poison her? Break my heart? Then what?" he's practically hissing through his teeth, "Take the kids too? Destroy me?"

"A-Arthur, I-."

Mary takes a step forward, and he steps back to keep the distance. She raises her hands, treating Arthur like the wild beast he currently felt like.

"-I don't know what you're talking about. Is everything okay?"

His nostrils flare and before he knows what he's doing his gun points directly at the maid's head. She shakes against his chest, but he holds her steady, his eyes burning into Mary's.