Trusted "Father"

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Let me tell you a story about a woman who fell into two crowds: the good and the bad.
Of course, there are pros and cons to each category, but I suppose it only depends on the way you look at it...

TW!: swearing, violence, mentions of sexual activity, blood, abuse, guns, knives

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"Dutch! Dutch!" Arthur was practically tripping over his stuff as he ran towards Dutch's tent. Arthur had tried his best to hide his throbbing dick, but he didn't have time to worry about that when their hostage just escaped!

"What is it my boy?" Dutch sprang up from his cot, wondering if someone had done something stupid while wasted. Dutch was already on edge about everything that had happened earlier that day, whatever Arthur was about to tell him, he didn't want to hear it. However, he was the leader of this group, and he needed to know whether he wanted to hear it or not.

"The O'Driscoll, she's gone!" Well, of course she's gone, Arthur. You watched her leave.

Arthur hated the way he let her go so easily. He hated the way he allowed her to get away with pinning him down so easily. He hated that his crotch burned just because she had his way with him for 10 seconds. He hated how easily he was submitted to an O'Driscoll.

Dutch seemed to freeze for a moment before walking out from his tent and glancing over by the tree where Kam was tied. She wasn't there. The only thing that remained anywhere near the tree was a rope that laid on the ground. The leader of the gang walked over to the tree, trying to find something that would indicate how she escaped. Arthur followed him.

Once closer, it was clear that the rope was cut using something sharp; the way each individual string looked like it was snapped in half. Every fiber seemed to have been sawed down until it broke. Dutch and Arthur stopped in front of the tree, Arthur's pistol still in his hand.

"How did this happen?" Dutch mumbled to himself, cursing at the fact no one was watching their hostage in his mind.

Arthur, being just as curious as Dutch, decided to look around the tree; he didn't know what he was looking for, but he found it. A knob without any bark on it. The bare part of the tree looked like something had rubbed off on it, forcing the tree to shed its outer layer on that spot. "Dutch." he called out, the older man following his sons voice to the other side of the tree.

The Van der Linde placed his hands on his hips, shifted his weight onto one leg, and stared at the sharp spot on the tree with anger and disappointment. He was disappointed in himself. Disappointed that he let the O'Driscoll get under his skin like that. That bitch knew just how to get under people's skin; Dutch should've known better.

"Her equipment?" he asked Arthur, knowing full well that his tent was right near the ammunition.

"Gone. Snuck into my tent and took my knife." Arthur was leaving out details, and Dutch knew it.

"You saw her take it?"
"Caught her in the act."
"And you didn't stop her? Why? Because she's a woman?"

Dutch was accusing Arthur. He raised his voice in a tone that delivered disappointment and frustration. Arthur hated how Dutch sounded when he asked those questions. Like he was questioning his loyalty.

"There were... complications." Dutch stared at Arthur before asking a question he never thought he'd ask.
"Arthur- you didn't sleep with her, did you?"

Arthur nearly choked on the air. He couldn't believe what Dutch was asking. "What- No! No, I did not sleep with the O'Driscoll!"

Dutch sighed heavily, his mind slowly resting at ease as Arthur refused the accusation. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, and spoke once more, trying to change the awkward tension between them. "Please tell me there wasn't anything too private in that book of yours."

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