Reckless Hearts

Chapter 26

You left Valentine, and the sound of gunfire behind you, as you followed Micah Bell and Leviticus Cornwall out of the town.

You kept a good distance back, not wanting them to realise they had been followed. You knew full well if Micah saw you, he would immediately try and kill you. Although you had no axe to grind with Cornwall, you wouldn't have any qualms in dispatching him. Not when he had decided to try and kill, not only John and Strauss, but potentially Dutch and Arthur as well.

There was the other problem. Disobeying one of Dutch's direct orders would well and truly leave you in the shitter. You didn't even know if you would dare go back. You might be his current lover, but he was the gang leader, first and foremost. As much as you loved him, and you now knew that you did. You also knew how controlling he could be, you knew that from the first time you had crossed him, when he had nearly strangled you. But no one, not even Dutch Van Der Linde himself, would stop you getting your revenge. Even if it meant you would never see him again.

You followed the two riders until they were well out of town, then you struck.

You didn't particularly want to shoot Micah in the back, because you wanted him to know it was you. So you did something you never thought you would do.

You shot his horse, from underneath him.

You'd never heard a horse scream, and you swore after this, you'd never want to hear it again.

As soon as he fell, you realised that Micah would be pinned underneath him.

When Cornwall, heard the shot. He turned in the saddle and pulled his gun. Lucky for you, he wasn't a very good shot. Probably because he had lackeys doing all the shooting for him. The bullet grazed your shoulder, but you were still able to get an accurate shot of, which shattered the businessman's skull.

His horse bolted, leaving you to deal with Micah.

You jumped off the stolen horse and hitched him to a nearby tree.

"You fucking bitch, you shot my fucking horse," Micah screamed. It was the first time you had seen the outlaw, show any emotion.

"And you tried to fucking kill me, you bastard," you snarled.

He struggled to get free, but he was pinned by the horse.

"Question is, do I let your horse crush you to death, or do I blow your brains out." You hissed.

Micah scowled at you, "I should have killed you myself, not trusted that bastard O'Driscoll to do it for me," he spat.

You cocked the hammer on your gun. "Do you know what that fucking bastard did to me!" you screamed, tears beginning to pool in your eyes, "he fucking beat me, tortured me and left me for dead."

You pointed the gun right between his eyes. "You bastard!"

As you pulled the trigger, you ignored the blood, bone and brain which sprayed everywhere. You let out a choked sob, as tears streamed down your face. You dropped to your knees. All the emotion and hurt of the last few weeks, came out of you.

What you wanted more than anything right now, was Dutch. To hold you and console you. But he wasn't here, and even if he had been, you doubted he would be consoling you. More likely he would be raging at you, for disobeying him.

After some moments, you weren't really sure how long, you picked yourself up. The graze on your arm was bleeding.

You dug around in the Baylocks saddlebags. Finding some whisky and an old shirt of Micah's, you took a swallow, and poured the rest on the wound. You wrapped the shirt around your arm in a makeshift bandage. You didn't know where you were going, and you had no supplies, so you quickly ransacked the rest of the saddle bags, and Micah's dead body.