Twenty-Five

                                    

                                          
"Those godforsaken fuckers...", you hissed and let yourself fell next to Arthur on a bench.
The saloon was a mess.
Before leaving, the people had turned everything upside down.
Tables were flipped, chairs broken and bottles shattered. Thousands of little sparkling pieces covered the floor like a mosaic of chaos.
With a groan, Arthur rubbed his face.
"Looks like ya need to close shop.", he said and let his head hang low. "Apologies."
You sighed and let your head fall back.
"It was bound to happen, one day or another.", you glanced over your shoulder to check the condition of the bar. "It just came a bit earlier than I had hoped for."
A bitter smirk appeared on his bearded face.
"Ya really can't see somethin' good for your sake, can ya?"
You shrugged.
It didn't matter what you'd answer to that. In the end, the situation couldn't be changed.
The saloon was a mess and all of the liquor gone. Hundreds of dollars had seeped into the hardwood floor.
Gone.
"Why did you came here anyways?", you asked, eyes lowered.
"Came to take my free drinks.", he chuckled.
The sound put a smirk on your lips.
"Well...", you did a gesture towards the stains in the floor that reeked of alcohol. "Treat yourself."
He chuckled a bit more. Maybe it could have been considered a soft laugh.
As soon as the deep sound reached your ears, you couldn't help but feel lighter.
You got up, walked around the bar and let your eyes examine the few bottles that were still in one piece.
"I got a whiskey.", you picked up the bottle to check if the bottom was also intact. "Not my best, but all I have."
You placed the bottle on the counter, together with two shot glasses and wiped away the shards of glass with your hand.
Arthur grabbed your sleeve.
"That will get you hurt.", he said and did it himself.
Sarcastically, you glanced at him.
"Live what you preach, mister Morgan.", you poured him a drink. "My thanks for saving me."
He took the glass.
"I didn't save nobody.", a slight shadow of mistrust crossed his eyes as he took a taste of the alcohol. "It ain't that bad though."
In one swift go the glass was empty.
You poured him another and yourself a first.
"Have a drink with me.", you raised the glass to have a toast with him. "Your company is the only good thing this night has to offer."
Drops of rainwater dropped out of the strands of your hair.
You were soaked.
Everything was cold and your entire body was covered in goosebumps.
Even Arthur seemed to struggle with how cold it was.
His cheeks were red but his lips slightly blue.
He put his glass on yours.
"Maybe things would have been different without me.", he gestured around the bar. "It doesn't look good, eh?"
Sighing, you shrugged.
"It is what it is.", you downed the alcohol in one go.
A pleasant burn crawled down your throat, accompanied by the harsh taste of the liquor.
Warmth started to fill your cheeks.
"You don' have a way to make money anymore.", Arthur said as the bottle reached a state of half full, half empty. "Will you be able to fix the place?"
Rubbing the back of your neck, you looked around.
Everything you've had build over the past years was shattered to ruins.
And it was beyond the point of saving.
"I will leave it to rot.", you said and took a sip straight from the bottle instead of using the glass.
"It's a life's work."
"A rotten life. No happiness either."
His eyes wandered over your face.
"What will you do now?", he finally asked in a low voice.
Your eyes narrowed.
Dark stains of alcohol dropped down the walls. The stench was diabolical. It was so strong yet sweet that breathing the air gave you a headache.
"Dutch needs to fulfil his part of the agreement.", you finally said.
"The killin' a man part or the money part?"
"Both. I needed the money for a plan. Now I need it more. And about Karl's father... He won't be missed."
"Neither will you."
A bitter smirk appeared on your face.
"Not by the townspeople.", you agreed. "But I need the father gone if I want to take the son in."
Arthur let out a deep breath.
"Why would you want the son? Ain't ya a bit young for so many kids to take care of?"
You shook your head.
"Ginny needs a friend."
"So you steal him one?"
"I fear that's my only option. Wouldn't you know how it is when stealing in the only option?"
He pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Goods and people are two different things, sweetheart...", he mumbled and took a sip of his alcohol.
You huffed.
"You're one to talk...", you flicked two fingers against the brim of his black hat. "Don't you outlaws steal people away all the time?"
A nostalgic smile lit up on his bearded face.
But a spark in his eyes gave away that he wasn't too fond of the memories.
"I wouldn't know... Dutch found me when I was all alone. He didn't have to steal me from anyone."
Your eyes fell onto the bottom of your empty glass.
"Hm... That sounds... nice. I wish someone would have picked me up when I was all alone. Maybe Ginny and I wouldn't be stuck here then."
Now he was the one who couldn't help but show the conflict of emotions that was going on inside of him.
"It was nice.", he mumbled and grabbed the bottle that you were holding so that you'd place it on the counter instead of drinking the entire rest of it. "But everything has to end. Especially the good things."
Humming, you leaned forward, arms on the counter and met his gaze.
The two do you were now so close that the warmth of his breath almost made you shiver.
"I suppose we're both unsatisfied with what the world is giving us.", you smiled. "Do we want to get our hands dirty for something better, Arthur?"