Guns & Smoke

by Lauren Sevier

  “He gets a full pardon from the Hanged Men,” I said. Begrudgingly, Sixgun nodded. Will’s incredulous eyes found mine, but a moment later, the fear I’d seen in them was masked with stoic indifference.

  I wanted to sink into the safety of Jesse’s arms. The wanting nearly unraveled me. I turned to him for one last look.

  “I can’t do this without you,” he said. I swallowed down the tears threatening to fall.

  “Yes, you can,” I said with every bit of strength I had left. “You stand tall, Jesse James. Promise me—"

  “Anything,” he said, his voice breaking on the word.

  “Promise me you’ll look out for The Kid. The way no one looked out for me,” I said. He nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

  “We don’t have all day, Bonnie!” Sixgun called. I squeezed my eyes tight for a moment, trying to find the strength to walk away from Jesse.

  “I’ll come for you,” he said, conviction ringing true in his deep canyon timbre. When Jesse said it, I believed him. “I’ll come for you and bring you home. I don’t care what I have to do, or how long it takes.”

  The words steadied me, holding me together, the way he always did. I swallowed down my fear and held my head high, as a free woman. Jesse bent low and inhaled deep, drinking me into his lungs. I nodded, feeling colder without the warmth of his skin against mine. I turned from him then, tucking the ring into my pocket as I made it down the steps. One of the Crimson Fist met me; his dirty hands gripped my arm and twisted it painfully behind my back. He walked me forward until I was facing Sixgun.

  With a smirk, he gripped the back of The Kid’s shirt and pulled him forcefully to his feet. The man holding me twisted my arm until I cried out, laughing cruelly behind me. Will was shoved bodily between us as two men searched him, pulling several hidden knives and his pistol from his body before they walked him toward the gates.

  “Clara?” one of Sixgun’s men asked from nearby. “What’re you doin’ here?” The blonde narrowed her eyes, staring across the yard. Recognition filled her expression.

  “How does he know you?” Jesse asked. Clara regarded him for a moment before a cool mask slipped over her face.

  “Haven’t seen you since you hooked up with them slavers,” the man said, a grin widening across his face. “Why don’t you come with us?”

  Slavers. The same slavers that attacked us on the road. I laughed bitterly, every suspicion I had about her confirmed.

  “You fucking cunt,” I shouted at her. “I knew you were a fucking liar!”

  “What the fuck is he talking about?” Jesse asked her, a note of incredulity in his voice. She moved toward Jesse, and I wrenched against my captor, trying to break free.

  “Don’t you judge me, Jesse James,” she said, her voice no longer sweet but cold and commanding. “I did it to get out. You should understand that.” Without a second glance, she walked down the stairs, a smirk on her lips when she glanced my way.

  “Good to see you, darlin’,” the man said, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her after Will until they disappeared from sight.

  Sixgun snapped his fingers, and a large man moved forward, toward The Kid.

  “Can’t have your little guard dog trailing me, now can I?” Sixgun said. The man roughly pulled The Kid from Sixgun’s grip. He wrapped his hand firmly around my throat, making sure that I would watch. “Break his arm.”

  I struggled, but between Sixgun and the man holding me, it was useless. I kicked, bucking my entire body, lurching towards The Kid as Sixgun laughed at my terrified tears.

  “You gave your word!” I shouted.

  “I said I’d let him go; I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him,” he said with a sly smile. The man brought a club down on The Kid’s arm, over and over, until a crack sounded and The Kid screamed. I tossed my head, tears blurring in my vision at the sight of The Kid’s blood. The man tossed him carelessly to the ground. The Kid clutched his arm as Jesse took the stairs two at a time to drop to his side.

  “I’ll kill you!” I screamed, snapping my teeth as his hand dropped swiftly from my throat. “Kid!”

  But Sixgun’s eyes were dark and cruel now.

  “Shut the bitch up,” he ordered.

  Pain exploded in my head, and the world went black.

  Chapter Thirty-Two - Jesse

  Time moved too slowly and too fast, all at once. Stuck between the moments, I watched as Bonnie’s head lolled to one side and The Kid cried out, clutching his broken arm. I froze, not knowing whether to follow Sixgun’s man dragging her away or to help my brother. Blood glistened against her dark hair from the blow they’d delivered.

  Suddenly, the world snapped back into place. Sixgun and Bonnie were long gone. Soldiers ran toward us, carrying rifles and shouting words I couldn’t make out. Panic lanced up my spine. Kid. I rushed to his crumpled form. His small body curled around his battered arm, the same arm he’d broken when he was little. He screamed and writhed in pain. A knot formed in my chest.

  How had this happened?

  Gabriela moved to my side, assessing my brother’s injuries. A couple of others carried a flat plank of wood. When they reached down to grab him, I shielded him with my body.

  “No!” I shouted.

  “Jesse,” Gabriela said, yanking me back. I struggled out of her grip. “They’re medics. They’re here to help.” She grabbed me by the back of my shirt, shoving me out of the way. I scrambled to my feet, advancing on her.

  “How did they even get into the base?” I asked, the words bitter and desperate. One of the medics administered something from a small bottle by sticking a needle into my brother’s arm. The Kid moaned in pain, then went still.

  “Get him inside,” Gabriela said, helping the others to lift The Kid. They retreated across the littered lawn and into the house. Her brown eyes were fierce as she turned on me.

  “How the fuck did those bastards get in here?” I demanded. My hands shook at my side. From the corner of my eye, Mickey approached.

  “Jesse—” he said, clutching his own injured arm.

  “Don’t fucking Jesse me. This is your fault!” I glared between them. “Your goddamn guards just let anyone in.”

  “Listen to me—” Mickey started.

  “Fuck you,” I said, picking up the M9 from where I’d dropped it in the grass. I stalked toward the stable, intent on getting No Name and leaving this fucking place. My uncle grabbed me with his good arm, wheeling me around to look at him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes searching mine wildly.

  “I’m going after her. Get out of my way,” I said, venom dripping from my tongue. This was his fault. He’d gotten so lost in the bottle that he didn’t take proper precautions for a place he was responsible for.

  “You can’t,” he said.

  “Don’t you fucking tell me what I can and can’t do,” I said. I took purposeful strides, holding the M9 pointed at the ground. Mickey stalked beside me.

  “You made that girl a promise,” he said, moving in front of me. I stilled. For a man who was nearly the same size as me, he seemed small. I stared past him, toward the wide-open gates. Bodies littered the ground. The survivors milled about. A few carried the dead, but most of them just stood there. Instead of guarding the fucking base like they were supposed to.

  “I promised I’d find her—”

  “You promised you’d take care of The Kid,” Mickey said, putting a hand up. “She didn’t give herself up so you could get yourself killed and leave him alone.”

  Finally, I looked into my uncle’s eyes; it was like looking into a mirror. They were the clearest I’d seen them in the days since our arrival, untainted by drink. I clenched my jaw, bidding the tears back. My eyes heated as I thought of the horrors I’d let Bonnie go right back to. My bottom lip trembled. I dropped the M9 into the dirt at our feet. The image of Mickey wavered as my eyes filled with tears.

  “I can’t lose her,” I said, my voice breaking.

  “You won
’t,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “They need her alive. Wherever they’re taking her, she won’t be harmed.”

  “But—”

  “Your brother needs you more,” Mickey said, his tone even. “When he’s stable, we’ll find her.”

  I stared at him, not understanding.

  “We?”

  Mickey nodded. “We take care of family.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll find your girl.”

  My jaw clenched, and I stared at him. I gave a curt nod. Mickey dropped his hand and stalked away. I remained, staring out at the gates. When we’d started this journey, I’d had one goal: to find my uncle. I’d found him, but I’d also found something more. Love. Family. Honor. All of it, in Bonnie. I wiped furiously at my cheeks as I picked up the gun, before making my way back to The Kid.

  Who are you? Bonnie’s voice echoed in my mind.

  I’m Jesse James.

  What are you?

  I’m a motherfucking Outlaw.

  What are you gonna do?

  I’m going to set the world on fire until I get you back.

  Acknowledgments

  Years ago, Lauren gave me a set of inspiration dice for Christmas. I’d always wanted to be a published author. For a long time, the two of us did text-based roleplaying (shout out to all of our Souls friends!), but we never quite considered writing together outside of roleplaying.

  “Let’s write a short story,” Lauren said the day she gave those dice to me.

  That night, Guns & Smoke was born.

  It wasn’t called Guns & Smoke back then, and it looked very different. Thank God we cut the aliens. Also, we’ve never been very good at containing ourselves to “short.”

  Now, almost a decade later, I am so proud of the world we created and the work we’ve done to shape it into this story. Guns & Smoke is a labor of love that I feared would never see publication. But through late hours, long nights, and heated arguments (kinda like being married), my dream of becoming a published author has finally been realized. I am incredibly lucky to share this with one of my best friends.

  I adore this world and the characters, and I hope you do, too.

  Co-authoring a novel is equal parts genius and madness, as I think Abbie would agree. This not-so-short story birthed an entire world that I’ll happily spend the rest of my life exploring through the unending cast of characters, places, and themes. So, never fear, there is a ton more where this came from.

  Writing Bonnie has been an honor. When I first imagined her, this product of a corrupt and decaying society, she’d been subject to the absolute worst parts of humanity. It’d hardened her heart and forced her into being nearly as bad as our villains at times. She’s not a likeable character, but that’s what made me love her.

  Why should she have to be likeable for her to find someone who would see her and adore her exactly as she is? Why should she soften her edges just to make others comfortable? I love her for all the same reasons Jesse does, because she’s direct, she doesn’t flinch, and she never backs away from a fight. My hope is that Bonnie’s character helps normalize strong women in society; to make them more understood and valued.

  Of course, it takes a village to create a book and there are several people we owe our thanks to:

  -Thanks to Stefanie Saw, Artist and Owner of Seventhstar Art, who can be found at www.seventhstarart.com for creating our amazing book cover.

  - A special thanks to Alexandra Ott for her invaluable editorial services.

  -Of course we want to thank Jonathan Sevier; Husband, Maker of Coffee, Breakfast & Bringer of Wine. We couldn’t have done it without you.

  -Our AMAZING Beta Readers: Sarah Frazier, Ashley Nelson, Tori Gerald, Meagen West, Alexis O’Neal, Amanda Boulos, Susan Farris, Cat Bowser, Laura Fielder, Krista Metwally, Sarah Hart, Rebecca Bentley, Dawn Morgan, and Kalen Evans. Thank you for your feedback!

  -Dr. Paul Garrett for his invaluable medical advice.

  -Wesley Wayne Jenkins - for his love of westerns.

  -Joshua Guillory for being an AMAZING ARC reader and finding all the typos.

  -And finally, Sada R-tist, for the use of his artwork in our promotional materials. http://klsadako.deviantart.com/

  We hope you continue with the series to find out what happens in the thrilling next chapter for Bonnie & Jesse. Remember to keep your guns close, your flask full, and your hands steady.

  ~Abbie & Lauren.

  Also by Lauren Sevier

  Songs Series

  Songs of Autumn

  The Fool's Adventure Series

  Guns & Smoke (Coming Soon)

  Leather & Lace (Coming Soon)

  Watch for more at Lauren Sevier’s site.

  Also by A. Smith

  The Fool's Adventure Series

  Guns & Smoke (Coming Soon)

  Leather & Lace (Coming Soon)

  Watch for more at A. Smith’s site.

  About the Author

  Abbie Smith is an author of romance novels, including her upcoming coauthored debut Guns & Smoke. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in theatre, where she learned the art of storytelling. A lifelong resident of southern Louisiana, she is a lover of coffee, naps, and animals. When not writing, she can be found spending time with her dogs, Klaus and Bree, and her cat, Sirius. Abbie is passionate about mental healthcare and believes that helping others with their own mental health battles is her small way of changing the world. Abbie grew up watching westerns with her grandfather, which partially inspired the setting of Guns & Smoke.

  Read more at A. Smith’s site.

  About the Publisher

  Lauren Sevier lives a simple life in small town Walker, Louisiana with her family and two mischievous dogs. She’s a proud firefighter wife and mother to her miracle son, born through IVF after an eight-year battle with infertility. She works full-time for a non-profit hospital in Cardiology caring for the elderly and low-income families all over the state of Louisiana in satellite and outreach clinics. Writing and being in the service of helping others are her two passions in life.

  She started writing song lyrics and poems on the front porch swing of her family home nestled amidst a 200-year-old pecan tree orchard that was once part of a Civil War plantation. She’s inspired the most by Shakespeare, the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, and JK Rowling. Her background in Theatre introduced her to classic British literature, playwrights, and poets from a very young age. This helped her to understand story concepts, dramatization, and character development the way Shakespeare once did, as an actor.

  Now her biggest inspiration for writing is her son who, like all children, learns by example. Lauren is determined to set a specific example for him; to live simply, work hard, and to never stop chasing her dreams. Because, one day, you just might catch them.