LAST CHANCE → sean macguire ✔

one , one

The saloon was often crowded, but today it was different. Practically empty. Willa pretended not to notice that, now, the attention was on her. She was a girl wearing pants and in the saloon, and you didn't see that everyday. She shoved a few dollars to the barkeeper and nodded to the bottle behind his head.

He looked at it, then at her, "That's a little strong. What about something a bit more mild-"

"Now." Her fist closed, knuckles white. He swallowed hard, nodded, and handed the bottle over to her. As soon as she grabbed it she smiled, sweet like honey, and went to a table. She set her coat on the table, claiming it as her own, and opened the bottle. The old chair creaked when she sat down and threatened to break under her, but she still needed something to take the edge off so she put the bottle to her lips. Willa didn't miss the scattered snickers that passed through the few patrons who were there.

She felt the whiskey burn all the way down, scrunching her nose for a moment. It wasn't the best she'd ever had-- that title went to authentic Irish whiskey all the way, but it wasn't the worst, either. She took another gulp as another man came through the door.

"Barkeep, I'll have y'er finest!" The man shouted. Willa almost choked, leaning forward and coughing the whiskey back out of her windpipe. She swiped her hair behind her ear and looked away, "Som't'in' wrong, t'ere, beautiful?" He ducked down to her eye level. His Irish accent was thick, tangling his words perfectly.

"Not at all. Just happenstance." She took another swig and he shrugged, heading to the bar. She guessed that he didn't know what that meant. She didn't really know, either, but it seemed to work in this situation. He also got a bottle, this one was definitely more expensive, and took a seat at her table.

Her table. The one that was mostly taken up by her jacket.

"Uhm, excuse me-"

"T'he name's Sean MacGuire. Ye stop in Valentine often? I 'avent seen ya 'round'ere much. I mean, I'm not a regular or anyt'ing, but I doubt t'hat I'd forget yer face." He snorted when he laughed after that and Willa couldn't help but smile.

"I'm here sometimes, but not much." She took another swig and enjoyed as it burned it's way down her throat. He chuckled, which he seemed to do quite a lot.

"I mean, it's not the prettiest place, but t'he liquor could be worse-"

"Hey, can you two shut up ov'a there? We're tryin' t'a 'ave a game 'ere!" A gruff voice came from the other side of the saloon. Willa turned, eyes narrowed, and met the pasty grey eyes of a fat, greasy haired man. His beard was scraggly and uneven and the grey hairs were stained yellow with alcohol and puke.

"Aw, shove it up yer ass!" Sean groaned, like he was speaking to a misbehaving child, then took another drink of the expensive whiskey.

"Uh, 'scuse me?" The man rise from his seat and Willa rose to meet him.

"You heard what he said, Finn. Run along, this isn't a fight you want to pick today. Remember what happened last time?" Her eyebrows cocked upwards and she tilted her head. The huge man, Finn, tightened his jaw.

"It was a cheap shot. Ya couldn't take me today if I was hammered 'til I was fallin' over." Finn breathed deep to make himself look bigger, clenching his fists. Willa felt a presence at her shoulder, but barely had time to react before Finn swung his fist towards her.

And it was on. Willa had taught herself how to fight after a fight that almost led to her death and now she could kick ass with her eyes closed. She ducked under Finn's fist and punched up into the soft of his belly. He stopped short and stumbled backwards, gasping for air. His gargantuan arm swung out and caught Willa, which threw her off balance long enough for one of his friends to jump her from behind.

Finn struggled to his feet as Willa tried desperately to squirm free, kicking and screaming and fighting against the man holding her. Something flashed in the light and Willa kicked harder as Finn bore down on her. She shoved her heel into her captor's shin, then they were hit from behind and were sent sprawling on the ground. Finn's knife landed on the floor next to her.

The Irishman rolled into his back beside her, "Thank me later." He winked, then was pulled out of her view. Before Willa had much time to respond, one of Finn's lackeys was on top of her. He pinned her with a knee to her chest and he held one of her arms back as he grabbed his own knife.

Willa groaned, fighting with all her strength against the bigger man, "Urgh, fuck!" Finn's knife was still beside her and it was clear that the lackey had no idea.

But Willa had promised--

She spotted the Irishman out of the corner of her eye, getting his ass severely kicked. Well, he wasn't going to be any help now.

Willa dug her nails into the wood as the lackey drug the knife across her cheek. It stung immediately, "Ooh, you're a pretty one! I might just keep you to... Rough up after this." He cooed into her ear, hot and slimy. Willa shoved her shoulder upwards, then her arm shot out and found the knife all too quickly.

She didn't want to, but she had to.

She had to.

He had been standing, but he hurled himself back onto her as she got the knife up. It was sticking straight up and pierced right through his gut. His laugh cut off at a gurgling finish.

"Ah, damn! Shit, shit." Willa rolled his twitching body off of her and stumbled to her feet. Finn had stopped beating on the Irishman and just stared at Willa in horror. The Irishman planted his heel into Finn's toe, then his knee met the giant's face. The floor seemed to shake when he hit the floor, but Willa couldn't take her eyes off of the dying man in front of her.

"Come on, girlie. We gotta go." The Irishman touched her elbow. Willa could hear people shouting, so she let him lead her away. She couldn't stay and let herself get caught-- she had family that needed her. So she followed this stranger. Everything sounded far away in her head as he led her around the back of the saloon to his horse.

"I have to..." Willa looked out towards the direction of the farm, where her mother and sister were most likely sleeping soundly, then she shook her head and whistled.

"Have t'a what?"

She shook her head and spotted her horse making its way toward her, "Let's just get out of here."

He went to talk again, but decided against it and closed his mouth.

Willa pulled herself into the saddle, then nudged her horse forward to give the Irishman the lead. The silence didn't last long, but Willa didn't mind much. He was fun to be around and it made her feel better to get her mind off of the recent murder, and praying that her family was safe.

She'd had to do it.... Right?