Charles Smith x Reader

Forty-Four

A thick layer of guilt clouded your mind as your horse walked past trees and bushes. Its head hung low. Surely the animal was smart enough to know that hell was about to break loose.

Your eyes jumped over your shoulder, back up the hill where you had left Aponi behind. Well, not voluntarily, at least.

She had tried to pick a fight, insisted and fought. But at the end of all this you couldn't let her risk that unborn child's life. Even though this wasn't your choice you had forced her to stay behind.

Now she was tied to a tree, well hidden from unwanted attention and possible danger. You'd tell her people where to find her once all this was over.

And if you'd die today she'd be dead within the next week or so anyways.

"Fuck...", it rolled off your lips in an annoyed yet pained voice.

How guilty you felt to take this from her. How selfish this was. But at the same time it made you feel better to know that she had a better chance of surviving this.

You wouldn't be able to bear to see her die through a bullet. She deserved better. Even if it wasn't as honourable as giving her life for her own.

The eyes of an older woman fell onto you as you joined her in the safety of the deep shadows and thick blankets of leaves.

There was this shimmer in that deep brown. A hint of judgement.

You couldn't deny that your nerves were itching already. Your temper grew shorter by the second.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to.", you snarled into her direction.

She frowned in response, obviously not capable to understand the English language, and just turned away to sink further into the shadows.

The language barrier made this operation a tad harder than it had to be. Most of the time you and Charles had to try with your hands and feet to communicate in order for everyone to understand.

But right now it seemed like there was no need for words. They all knew what was going on right in front of them, barely a stones throw away.

They could feel the desperation of the screams and cries, they knew that this might be their last day.

The beating of your heart was up in your throat as you stretched your neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the other side.

Charles' brown eyes appeared in the distance. He frowned. As always.

No, you shook that thought off. It wasn't as always. You've seen him smile more than once now. Perhaps even more often than you had seen him upset.

He was the expert in robberies and outlaw business, so you had agreed to let him take the lead. He'd make the first move and all you needed to do was to follow.

You trusted him. And he seemed to try and do the same with you.

A sharp breath burned in your lungs as you sucked in some air and held it. Something tingled in the back of your head.

The hairs on your body stood up straight as your hand wandered down to rest on your revolver. You were almost out of bullets, barely enough for two dozen.

You prayed that there wouldn't be need for violence. But realistically that wouldn't be a thing. Either you bought the natives free with blood or they needed to bleed instead.

A soft curse rolled off your lips.

Right in front of the main building of the farm appeared a man.

You flinched. Fingers wrapped around cold metal until they cramped with such force that you could feel your bones and joints.

There he was. The devil of them all. The man who had taken everything from you, peace and quiet, your home and the life that had been fine.

Sheriff Clark.

All of a sudden you felt like vomiting. The urge to jump out of the dark and kill this man with your own two hands was unbearable.

It made you shake all over. Short breaths stuttered in your lungs.

You had to clench your hands into fists to not pull your revolver and shoot him right this instant.

With his usual cocky expression he pushed a little girl across the yard. His hands had her by the neck but she fought and struggled as it she could kill a thousand men.

A strange feeling of hatred tied your throat. You could feel how you wanted to push a blade into his soft flesh until blood wetted your hands and warmed your skin.

Since when were you so cruel?

Last time you had used violence had been to save the bison. And that wasn't even unprovoked. The attackers had left you no choice.

All this time you had believed in words rather than actions. At least when they were connected to violence.

But this?

This made you want to scorch earth until nothing was left of the disgusting traces that Clark and his men left on it.

Your eyes jumped through the shadows. Leaves rustled and a soft wind caressed your cheeks. You shivered. But it wasn't because you were cold.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervousness started to make your fingertips itch. Hatred clouded your mind.

Why did this take so long?

You looked around in hopes to see if the group on the other side was ready to struck first. But there was no sign of anyone.

Not even Charles.

Immediately, panic set in and your mind jumped to the conclusion that things had gone south.

Screams and fighting mixed into the chaos of your thoughts. The children that crowded the farm were cornered by some men in uniforms.

They cried for help, some threw themselves onto the ground.

Your breathing quickened.

Next to you, the women grew uneasy. Their feet moved, positioned shifted and some gasped. Tears shimmered in the corners of their eyes while they looked at you for an explanation.

But you didn't have one. You couldn't explain what was going on.

Suddenly, a shot rang out.

Hell broke loose.