Vintage Roses

Chapter 4: I Awkwardly Hug A Cowgirl

A payload - our payload, I realize - drifts into view from behind a rock, and I feel almost faint with relief. Then I see the ropes around their bodies. Everyone but Ashe is tied to the vehicle, not riding on it, and B.O.B. has been dismembered, his head nestled in a coil of rope. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I sprint to the kitchen, where I grab a knife, then the front door, and race out onto the porch. Ashe has swung her long legs over the side of the payload, and she slips off it as I reach her. Her beautiful face is closed and weary, and her wrists bear red weals. Impulsively, I slam down the knife on the payload, next to B.O.B.'s head, and wrap my arms around her. She returns the hug, briefly resting her chin on the top of my head, but then pulls away slightly and leans against the payload. Her arm is still around my waist and my mouth suddenly feels too dry, and perhaps that's why my voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. "What happened?" She shakes her head, her eyes drifting over the unconscious forms of the Deadlock triplets. "That bastard McCree. He set us up."

I bite my lip. Jesse McCree was before my time, but I know that his picture still hangs on Ashe's dartboard, a constant reminder of his betrayal. "I fuckin' hate him!" she mutters, a muscle working in her jaw. "Bloody son of a bitch even had the balls to steal my bike. My bike." She shakes her head, as though she still can't believe it. I rub her shoulder awkwardly, wishing I could do something more substantial to comfort her, but her sheer proximity is messing with my senses. She stands up suddenly and hands me the kitchen knife, simultaneously grabbing B.O.B.'s head. "D'ya think ya could untie 'em? I gotta go repair the big guy." For some reason, she avoids my gaze, and I try not to show how this hurts me. "Sure, Ashe." As I clamber onto the payload, I hear her murmur, so low that I'm not sure if I was meant to hear. "Thanks, honey."  

A/N: Thanks for your patience!!! <333