Guns & Smoke

by Lauren Sevier

  The Kid dragged us out back again a little later so he could get more practice throwing his knives. I sat at the table with a blank notebook and pencil I’d stolen from Mickey’s office, watching as Bonnie corrected The Kid’s stance and gave him advice on how to aim. He was getting better. I pressed my pencil to the page, drawing for the first time in what felt like years.

  “So, Montana,” Will said, sitting in the chair next to me. “It seems we have the same taste in women, now that we’ve shared two of them.” My eyebrows lifted as I looked at him. “It’s the Ellis charm. Never thought we’d beat you and Bonnie between the sheets, but I guess some men just aren’t as lucky as others.”

  “Congrats, I guess?” I said, glancing toward Bonnie once more. Clara was, surprisingly, absent. “But Clara and I never—” I shrugged. Will leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  “You mean you were going to marry her and have no idea how she was in the sack?” he asked, letting out a low whistle. “Brave man.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, shooting a sarcastic grin at him. Will leaned back, an easy smile crossing his face.

  “I just figured it was you who got there first,” he said. “Bonnie has all her rules, but I only have one. No one’s first and no one’s last.”

  I barked out a laugh. He was funny, I’d admit that.

  I went back to drawing, glancing up at Bonnie every few minutes to make sure I captured her just right. Eventually, Bonnie and The Kid settled at the table with us. Again, she started talking about her ideas for the base. I loved the way her eyes lit up with excitement. It reminded me of The Kid.

  “There’s a med bay. I mean, if we’re stayin’, I could talk to them about helping,” Will said, knocking back what looked like Mickey’s tequila. “My dad may take people apart, but I put them back together. It might be nice to do it somewhere that matters.”

  The conversation went on until late in the afternoon. When I finished my drawing, I went back into the house to check on Mickey. He’d been quiet lately. I found him in the living room, passed out. I kicked the side of the couch to wake him. He sprang up, looking wildly around the room.

  “You alright, Mickey?” I asked.

  “Jesus, Jesse, I thought you were a damn tango,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Huh?” Mickey looked at me, a grim expression on his face. “Oh. Enemy.”

  “At least you didn’t have your knife this time,” I said, settling down on the coffee table. “Look, I know we kinda barged in on you here. But it sounds like we’re staying. For a while at least. You think you can sober up?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, reaching for the empty tequila bottle on the floor.

  “Because we came all of the way from Montana to find you,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. “You have an entire base of people looking to you to lead them. Maybe if you were sober you could?”

  Mickey glared at me. “Why do you care?”

  “Because you’re family,” I said. “We take care of family. We can’t take care of you if you don’t put the damn bottle down. I don’t know what you’ve been through. I can’t imagine what it was like during the Culling, but if you took one look around at the people who cared about you, maybe you’d understand there’s more to life than the drink.”

  My uncle didn’t speak. Instead, he got to his feet and headed toward the kitchen in search of another bottle. I let out a low breath.

  We had time, right? Maybe I’d eventually get through to him.

  Chapter Thirty-One - Bonnie

  I was sore everywhere, and yet I couldn’t seem to get enough time alone with Jesse. Every look, every touch, every hitch in his breath I was acutely aware of even if he was across the room. Logically I knew that eventually our passion would fade into a semblance of normalcy, but each time I started to push down my desire, his words echoed through my mind again.

  I love you.

  It would set my heart pounding erratically in my chest all over again, desperate to be close to him. As close as it was possible to be. As if the warmth of his body on mine solidified this new, bright feeling in my chest into a beam of light that banished the darkness of my past. Making way for things I’d never allowed myself before. Dreams.

  The Kid and I walked back from the stables after tending to Eagle, No Name, and his freshly named horse, Whisper. I’d asked him what it meant, but he wouldn’t tell me. The day was coming to a close, warmth lingering in the air as the light grew hazy around us. The Kid was oddly quiet, but in a comfortable way. I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair until he turned to look at me, smiling so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t break in half.

  “Hey, Kid,” I said. He stopped and turned to me. “I have a confession to make. I broke one of the rules.”

  He stared at me expectantly.

  “I’m in love with Jesse.”

  He chuckled, turning back to the path to Mickey’s and continuing our walk.

  “I already knew that,” he said with a shrug, surprising me. “I just figured if it’s the right person, it was okay to break the rules.”

  I smiled, wondering how he’d gotten so smart.

  “So you don’t mind that I’m stayin’ for good, then?” I asked. That stopped him in his tracks, his back ramrod straight. In a moment, he hurtled across the space and wrapped me in his arms excitedly, nearly knocking me over in the process. “Watch the stitches, Kid.”

  “You mean it?” he asked. I nodded, laughing into his hair. “Have you told Jesse yet?”

  In his excitement, he half-dragged me the rest of the way back to Mickey’s. As I shuffled up the front porch steps, I looked around to the weeds and debris outside. Those would be the first to go. Starting tomorrow, I was going to put that drunkard to work, even if I had to hide all his tequila first.

  “If you don’t get in here quick, mi cielo, there won’t be any dinner left!” Will called to me from inside. I realized that for the first time in my life, I didn’t mind standing still, as long as I had these people standing with me.

  Dinner was chaos. Will hogged the mashed potatoes; he and The Kid shouted over the table at one another. Clara kept trying to pull Will’s attention away from the food, but that was one battle I didn’t expect anyone could win. Gabriela told us about her extended family living in the Borderlands while Mickey sipped on his tequila instead of drinking himself into oblivion. Even though his face was ruddier than normal, he was in good spirits. I don’t know that I’d ever laughed that hard before or smiled so freely.

  Jesse held my hand under the table and found any opportunity to run his fingers over my thighs or press a kiss into my hair.

  By the time dinner was over and the table was empty, the silence felt somehow obtrusive and wrong. Jesse went to help The Kid get ready for bed while Gabriela and I cleared the table. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and I knew that Mickey hadn’t been letting her get much sleep lately. With our arrival also came memories he’d tried hard to drink away.

  “I’ll finish up. You should get home and sleep. Mickey’ll be fine tonight,” I said, and she nodded, shuffling away on weary feet. I washed the dishes quickly, reaching high on my tiptoes to put a glass back in a cabinet that was just out of reach. A hand slipped around my waist as the glass was taken from me and placed on the shelf.

  I turned in Jesse’s arms, pressed between his hard chest and the countertop. His eyes were hungry when he looked at me. The expression said clearly that he knew what he wanted, and it was beneath my clothes. I pressed my thighs together to keep from squirming beneath his gaze.

  “Those shorts are killing me,” he breathed hot into my ear before tucking some of my hair behind it. I stared at him directly for a long moment and bit my lip. His breath shuddered. In a swift motion he swept me into his arms and carried me down the hall to our room, slamming the door shut with his foot before the lock clicked in place.

  An hour or
so later we lay together, naked and tangled in our sheets, his fingers tracing lazy shapes against the pale skin of my shoulder. I stretched over him to reach the bedside table and opened the small drawer there.

  “I unpacked earlier,” I told him, even though he wasn’t really listening. Instead, he’d taken to staring at the curves of my ass that were now in his line of sight. “And I stole one of Will’s cigarettes.” I took the glass off the lantern on our bedside table and lit it quickly, inhaling the bite of tobacco smoke deep into my lungs. I offered it to Jesse with a grin, but he shook his head.

  “Your loss,” I said, inhaling again.

  The curl of smoke was thick in the air around us. Pulling the sheet off the bed, I wrapped it lazily around my body before crossing the room to open the window. The chill in the early evening air raised goosebumps on my skin. The bite of the tobacco settled into my relaxed muscles as I finished the cigarette, flicking the end out the open window. Before returning to bed, I picked up a small bundle of books off of the desk with a grin curling on my lips.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I told him. He raised his eyebrows as I climbed back onto the mattress and crawled until I was tucked into the spot on his shoulder made for me. I handed him two of the books, and his eyes widened in shock as he recognized their faded covers.

  “These are—"

  “Your mother’s books. I couldn’t let you leave them behind. It’s all you had left of her,” I said, my voice soft. “I snuck them into my pack when you left the room.”

  His breath hitched and his mouth opened, but no words came out. I couldn’t tell if that meant he liked the surprise or not. Opening the small book still in my hand, I turned the pages until I pulled out a tiny yellow flower I’d pressed between them.

  “I have one more surprise,” I said with a grin. He looked down at it in confusion.

  “I picked it before we walked back to the base. To remember your truck by,” I said with a giggle. Jesse groaned, his hands running over his face.

  “I’m gonna miss that truck,” he said, pulling the book from my hand and leaning down to press a hard kiss to my mouth. “But I’d burn that engine all over again.” He tucked the flower between some of the later pages and looked down at the book in my hands. His eyes scanned the words, and I let my fingers trail over his arm to get his attention.

  “What does it say?” I asked. He wrapped a lazy arm around me and adjusted so I could see the words on the page, even if they didn’t mean anything to me. It was just how Jesse was, always considering me.

  “It’s a poem,” he breathed into my hair.

  “Hope is the thing with feathers,” he read, his voice the deep canyon timbre that I loved so dearly. “That perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words. And never stops.” He looked down at me. “At all.”

  “The thing with feathers,” I said, brushing my fingers over the words. “I like that.” I ran my lips over the skin below his ear, smiling as he groaned. “Remind me that I need to talk to Gabriela tomorrow about getting more of my herbal tea.” He tensed, looking down at me with concern in his blue eyes. I patted his arm softly, chuckling.

  “Don’t worry, farm boy. There’s plenty of time. It seems what I packed got left behind with the wagon,” I said, kissing him again until he looked less worried. “I’m impulsive, not reckless.”

  He nodded, his eyes on my mouth, still swollen from his attention. He rolled me back into the mattress, the books falling forgotten to the floor, settling on top of me as if we belonged together like this. All of my broken, jagged pieces were beautiful when they fit together with his. Like a stained-glass window.

  “I’m yours, Jesse,” I whispered against his mouth. He stilled at my words, thumb brushing against my temple. “You’re an outlaw, Jesse James. My outlaw. And if there’s anyone I belong to, it’s you.”

  “I’m never letting you go,” he said with his unwavering conviction. He kissed me, our bodies sliding together slowly, languidly, as we enjoyed each other without urgency or desperation. Until the night grew dark and our lantern burned low. Until we fell into each other’s arms, completely spent and satisfied in ways I’d never imagined were possible before. The steady thump of his heart beneath my cheek lulled me into a sweet sleep.

  The pop of gunfire woke us with a start.

  In an instant, Jesse and I scrambled for our clothes on the floor. I shoved on my shorts and a shirt as a crash resounded from the front of the house. Panic seized hold of my heart as I shoved my boots on, hands scrambling for a weapon. I turned to Jesse, tossing him the M9 as I cocked the hammer back on Selene and he threw the door open.

  The Kid cried out, and my heart lurched in my chest.

  We hurtled down the hallway in a rush at the sound, not stopping to take note of the broken furniture and overturned chair. A shadow in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I whirled, an unfamiliar armed man raising his weapon to Jesse. I squeezed the trigger, and he dropped heavily to the ground, unmoving.

  Jesse, always faster than me, was out the front door a few steps ahead, stopping short at the top of the porch steps. As soon as I stepped beside him, I realized why.

  Sixgun and twelve armed men had The Kid kneeling on the grass, a gun pointed to the back of his head.

  Mickey bled from a cut on his temple and was clutching an arm that was held at an odd angle, his shoulder too far displaced from where it should be. Will and Clara burst through the doors behind us. A strangled cry reached my ears, Will’s steady medic hands leveling a silver pistol at his father across the way.

  “Good. It seems I finally have your attention,” Sixgun said, a sly smile spreading over his cruel mouth.

  “Please,” I said, breathless, my eyes on The Kid’s face. He wasn’t crying, but his expression was too tight and unnatural for his normally joyful face. As if he were trying everything in his power to keep from losing it. “Please, let him go. He’s a child.”

  Sixgun laughed darkly, shifting his weight. Then I noticed the brace on his left leg, a souvenir from our last encounter. One I was sure he wanted vengeance for.

  Jesse lurched forward bodily, the M9 extended, his blue eyes wild.

  “Stop!” I shouted, shoving myself in front of him. I braced my feet against the ground, wrapping my arms around him as his chest heaved. “Stop.”

  Sixgun pressed the barrel of the gun harder against The Kid’s head, forcing his gaze down to the grass in front of him. Jesse’s mouth opened to argue with me, his eyes never leaving his brother.

  “We know what he wants,” I said quietly, the words hitting him like a physical blow. His eyes dropped to me then, and he shook his head softly. We both remembered what Will said as I’d tended his gunshot wound. I’ve never seen him scared before... he kept saying it would be okay... that if he found you, it would be okay.

  “No,” Jesse said, his voice dangerous as it rumbled from his chest to shake through my entire body. “No, there has to be another way.” He wrapped an arm around me as if afraid I would disappear into thin air.

  Before I could protest, Jesse’s hard hands yanked me inside the house, the door slamming behind us. His eyes were a wild blue that broke my heart.

  “You have to leave,” he said, his words hot in the space between us. “Just go out the back—"

  “Jesse—"

  “Go to St. Louis. I’ll come for you. I’ll fix this. I just have to—"

  “Jesse,” I tried again.

  “I can fix this. You just have to go. Now!” His hands were in my hair, eyes imploring me. The vision of his face wavered through a curtain of my tears.

  “I’m done running,” I said, the words a whisper that silenced him. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t run from this.”

  “Please,” he begged, his deep canyon voice breaking on the word. “I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t lose you.” His lips trembled, and my tears spilled over onto my cheeks.

  “I’ll kill him, Bonnie!” Sixgun called from beyond the door, and I ra
n trembling hands over Jesse’s sharp jaw and his beautiful, chiseled face. Mapping him with my fingertips.

  “He has The Kid, Jesse,” I sobbed. “My Kid. Our Kid.”

  He ducked his forehead down, and his mouth crashed against mine in a ruthless kiss that muffled a sob between our lips. I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine.

  “You can’t lose me,” I said, breaking away in a rush. “I’m yours.” I scrambled with the gun in my hand, pushing it into his palm. He looked down at the small ivory-handled weapon that’d been my bargaining chip for so long. He fumbled with the ring on his finger, slipping it into my hand. A piece of him to carry with me.

  “If you run, I’ll kill him slow!” Sixgun shouted. I mopped the tears from my cheeks and took a shuddered breath. Before Jesse could convince me otherwise, I twisted out of his arms and flung open the door. I stepped onto the porch with every ounce of false bravado I’d gathered in my years on the run. Until I was level with Sixgun’s mercilessly empty eyes.

  “I have conditions,” I said, spitting the words out with every bit of malice in my heart. “I’ll come with you, but you have to let The Kid go, and when you leave, you don’t ever come back here.”

  Sixgun’s jaw clenched hard enough to tick a muscle in his cheek.

  “Why would I negotiate with you? I have you outmanned and outgunned,” he said, spitting into the grass. I smiled then, coldly, the expression exposing too many teeth to be considered anything other than predatory.

  “Because I know you need me alive,” I said, staring him down. He already knew from my attempt on the train that I wouldn’t hesitate to take my own life.

  “You wouldn’t,” he said.

  “Fucking try me,” I said.

  “Fine, but my traitor son comes with you. There are a few lessons it’s clear I haven’t taught him yet.” His eyes slid to Will on the porch. I glanced over briefly, reading the terror in Will’s guarded expression. He wouldn’t leave me again; he’d promised. If it meant keeping Jesse and The Kid alive, I would use that promise to my advantage now.