//BEARING ARMS//RDR2//ARTHUR x READER

Chapter Thirty-One

"You liar, Dutch!" Yelled John. "You sold her out!" He pointed at him, his face red with anger.

Dutch laughed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not lying, John. I earned this money fair and square. No stealing and no selling." He had a crooked smile that tugged upwards more on one side than the other. He was certain to be hiding something behind those lips.

Arthur came up between the two. "Now, what's goin' on here? I could hear y'all's hollering from the other side of camp!" He stood there, hands on his hips, looking from one man to the other.

John scrunched his eyes. "Why don't you tell Arthur, Dutch." He moved closer. "Huh? Tell 'em how you got rid of (Y/n)! I'm sure Arthur'd be happy to hear that!"

"What?" Arthur's heart stopped beating for second. "Dutch, what did you do! Where's (Y/n)!" Then, his pulse quickened. He moved close to Dutch, face to face with rage.

Dutch looked to Arthur, his smug smile fading quickly. "Now, be calm!"

"Calm? You want me to be calm!" Arthur grabbed Dutch's collar, pulling forward to yell at his face. "Maybe I'll be calm after you answer me this!"

He lowered his voice and spoke through gritted teeth, "Where is (Y/n)?"

Dutch answered, "She wanted to leave. It was her choice-"

"Bull shit!" Said John.

Arthur's grip loosened. His mind was spinning.

"It's the truth! She saw your letters, Arthur! The ones from Mary Linton...," Dutch paused. "She went ahead to go marry her true love."

At that moment, Arthur's pulse dropped. The boiling blood of rage he had minutes ago turned cold. He knew who (Y/n) went to marry. It was that Peter Hillington. The man whom she said she never loved. Perhaps, that was never the truth.

John could see the light in Arthur's eyes disappear; he had to say something, and quick. "Wha-what? No, that's not all true!" He turned his focus back to Dutch. "I know there's more you're not tellin'! Where'd you get that much money from then?" He pointed to a wad of cash sitting in an old cigar box, hidden under Dutch's things. "You didn't have that there this morning!"

Dutch furrowed his brows, "None of your business, John! I work so hard to support this gang, this family! You have no right to question me."

Arthur could only stand by, still processing the situation. John looked over to him, his expression concerned. "Arthur," he said, "You got to believe me. If not in me, in (Y/n) ... "

"I don't know what to believe right now." Is all Arthur could say. He walked off to the far end of camp. There, he sat on a rock near the edge of a cliff, alone.

John called for Arthur to come back, "Come on! You know he's lyin'! Oh, damn it..." He scolded at Dutch before hurrying off to Arthur. When he caught him near the cliff, John slowed down to sit beside him.

"I don't know much of (Y/n), Arthur." He shifted in his seat, "but I do know this much: she loved you. It was obvious." John wanted to get a better look at Arthur's face to read his expression, but it was no use. He's head hanged low and almost unresponsive. But, he was listening.

John continued, "The other thing I know, Dutch is a liar. He can't be trusted. I don't know what or why, but Dutch's been worse than ever right now. I wouldn't trust him for nothin'." He put his hand on Arthur's shoulder, hoping then he'd look over to him.

It worked. Arthur turned his head slightly to see his face. John looked sincere enough. With a heavy sigh, Arthur spoke. "Do you know where (Y/n) went...?"

It was a tough call. If Dutch sold (Y/n) she could be anywhere by now. John did not want to tell him that, though. "I haven't got the slightest clue, sorry. We can look around town in San Denise. That's where Dutch came back from earlier."

Arthur had to act fast. "Well... what we doin' here then? Let's go on and look."

* * *

It was getting late. (Y/n) donned a dress, one she was used to wearing before moving to America. It had ruffles and lace, made by well-known designers. It seemed her life was returning to the way it was. She did wonder to herself: what that really a good thing?

Peter Hillington, the man (Y/n) was courting again, walked by her side as they took their evening stroll in the San Denise Park. "You look lovely," Peter complimented. He hoped his charm would make (Y/n) open up to him faster. It worked among other women he had met before. However, for some reason, (Y/n) was particularly quiet.

The lanterns in the park's lights created a beautiful ambiance. With the complements, the pretty scene, and the right man, surely (Y/n) would fall for him. She smiled softly, "Thank you." Then turned her head away, not to be bashful, but to hide her grimace. She was sick of men.

* * *

Little did they know, two men were watching them as they continued their walk. John pointed and whisper-shouted, "There she is!"

Arthur slapped his arm down. "Shush! Lemme see how close I can get. I have to hear what's goin' on." He pulled out his binoculars to get a closer look.

John sighed and squinted his eyes. "Of course, because the binoculars won't make you stand out like a sore thumb at all."

"Alright!" Arthur quietly said. "I'll put 'em down. Now, time to be real discreet. I'll get close like I said, get some information and maybe and explanation."

He moved into the park gates and quickly squatted into the bushes along the pathway. Slow and steadily, he inched his way towards (Y/n) and Peter. He was in hearing range.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, (Y/n)," said Peter. "I truly wish to know you. I am sure your beautiful voice matches your feminine appearance." He turned to face her, held both her hands in his, and looked into her eyes for response.

She did not bother a smile this time. "Sorry, give me time. This is all very sudden for me." (Y/n) weakly allowed her hands to rest in his. It was clear to her that she felt nothing with Peter and would never in the future either. She hanged her head low, avoiding his gaze. What was she to do? It wasn't like she had much of any other options.

Peter tightened his grip, causing (Y/n) to look up to him. His lips thinned and his eyes intense. "I'm trying to be patient with you, Lady (Y/n). We only have tonight and tomorrow's the wedding. Get used to this." He yanked her hand to follow him out of the park. "I'm tired. Let's make our way back."

Arthur wanted to jump out from hiding. He could not stand to see any man treat (Y/n) with such disrespect. He knew better. To handle this, he had to wait to speak to her alone. A plan needed to be devised.

* * *

(Y/n) had tears filling to the brim of her eyes that never fell. She held in her emotions, not wanting to cause a scene worse than what had happened. Once back at the hotel, she changed into her night attire.

She sat at her vanity in the room, brushing her hair while looking into the mirror. It was quiet. All that was heard were the crickets outside and her brush combing through her hair.

Then a thunk.

She paused. Looked around to see what had fallen. Nothing. (Y/n) continued to fix her hair.

Tap- tap!

(Y/n) put down her brush and turned to the window. There, she saw a figure behind the glass.

She is on the secondfloor.