Aaliyah's Redemption: Bound by Fate ***DISCONTINUED, READ DESCRIPTION***

Chapter VI

The spring sun filtered through the grimy windows of Six Point Cabin, casting slanted beams of light across the worn wooden floor. Outside, the world seemed peaceful, the crisp air of Cumberland Forest heavy with the cent of pine and fresh blooms. But inside the cabin, everything felt wrong. Aaliyah sat bound and bruised, her wrists raw from the rope, and her heart pounded in her chest as the heavy cabin door swung open.

A man stood there, this shadow cutting across the floor. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore a look of hardened suspicion on his face. His revolver was drawn, trained on her with a deadly precision. The blue of his eyes was cold and sharp, but there was a flicker of something else—hesitation.

"Fuck," the man muttered under his breath. His gaze lingered on her as if he wasn't expecting to find her here. "John!" he called, his voice deep but edged with tension.

A shorter man, leaner but no less imposing, stepped into the cabin. He looked from the man to Aaliyah, then back to the revolver aimed at her. His brow furrowed, confusion dancing across his face. "What the hell?" John said, his voice rough as his eyes finally settled on Aaliyah, taking in her restrained form. "Shit."

The two men exchanged glances, silent but understanding. The taller man slowly holstered his gun, his movements deliberate as if he didn't want to scare her any more than she already was. Aaliyah's heart raced, her body tensing, but she couldn't help the fear that widened her dark blue eyes as he knelt beside her. He raised a hand to her face, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed her chin, removing the gag from her mouth. A rush of cool air filled her lungs, but she felt exposed under his gaze.

"What's your name?" His voice had softened now, though there was still an edge to it, like he wasn't quite sure if she was friend or foe.

"Aaliyah Stephens," she answered, her voice trembling. The weight of both men's attention was too much, her vulnerability crashing over her like a wave. Her cheeks flushed with heat, though whether from fear or embarrassment, she wasn't sure.

John crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as he watched the exchange, "Well, you're the boss," he said with a shrug, speaking to the taller man. "If she ain't an O'Driscoll, she can live."

Aaliyah's breath caught in her throat as John turned on his heel and strode back outside, his voice rising to direct the other men. She wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Freedom? Or another kind of imprisonment?

The man's eyes softened as he turned his attention back to her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, though she sensed he already knew. It felt more like he wanted to hear her say it, like it would make something real for both of them.

Aaliyah swallowed hard, her voice breaking as she replied. "Colm had his men kidnap me... he's kept me locked in here for months." Her body trembled as the truth escaped her lips, the weight of her ordeal finally sinking in.

The man's expression hardened for a moment, anger flashing in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. He reached for a knife at his belt, and Aaliyah instinctively flinched at the sudden movement.

"You're gonna be okay," he said, his voice steady now, as if to reassure her. He leaned forward cutting through the rope that bound her wrists. His scent—leather, sweat and smoke—filled her senses, grounding her in a way that surprised her. As the final rope fell away, she flexed her sore wrists, unable to believe she was finally free of the restraints.

The man stood up and extended a hand toward her. "Arthur," he said, his name simple but solid, like the man himself.

Aaliyah hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his. His grip was firm but not rough as he helped her to her feet. She stood shakily, the rush of relief making her feel light-headed. The kindness from him was unexpected, and it made her feel strangely safe, a feeling she hadn't experienced in so long.

"You alright?" Arthur's voice cut through her thoughts, drawing her gaze back to his face.

Aaliyah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I... I think so," she whispered, her voice still timid.

Just then, John reappeared at the doorway, his expression one of exasperation. "I've sent Bill and Kieran on ahead. That O'Driscoll bastard said something about money in the fireplace." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Arthur and Aaliyah's hands still intertwined. He raised an eyebrow at Arthur, though said nothing further. "I'll head out. Watch for any lawmen sniffing around." With that, he was gone, disappearing into the afternoon light.

Aaliyah stammered, trying to focus. "There's... There's money. In the fireplace, and some under the mattress."

Arthur nodded and let go of her hand, turning toward the fireplace. He rummaged through the ashes and found a small stash of cash. Moving to the bed, he pulled up the mattress and retrieved more money. "Five hundred dollars," he said, tucking it away. "That'll help."

He moved toward the door, holding it open and gesturing for her to follow. "Come on. Lets go."

Aaliyah stepped outside, squinting against the brightness of the day. The cabin had been so dark and suffocating, and now the sun was almost too much. She glanced back at the man who had saved her.

"Take this," Arthur said, shrugging off his black jacket and handing it to her. She accepted it gratefully, slipping it over her thin arms. The warmth of the jacket felt like a barrier between her and the cold world she had just left behind.

Arthur led her toward his horse, a sturdy beast named Maverick. "You ready?" he asked, his tone gentle as he placed his hands on her waist, lifting her effortlessly onto the back of the horse.

Aaliyah clung to the saddle as Arthur mounted up in front of her, careful not to knock into her too much. His presence was strong, solid, and for the first time in months, she felt a sliver of hope.

"Hold on," he said, his voice steady as he urged Maverick into a smooth canter.

As they rode away from the cabin, the wind rushed through Aaliyah's hair, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a glimmer of freedom.