“And Atticus Bunch dies.”
“And Atticus Bunch dies,” she repeats, unconvinced.
“You don’t think I can make this happen?”
“No,” she says. “I don’t. If you could have killed Atticus, you would have done that already. Second, once you get the deeds, you’ve got no reason to get me what I want.”
“So you don’t trust me.”
“Hell no. You’re a criminal who just beat me. I don’t trust you at all.”
“I am a criminal, Josie. Everyone decent on this planet is. And yes, I thrashed you, but you damn near begged for it, girl. I needed to know what kind of trouble I had with me, and now I’m offering you what you want, while taking care of what you don’t want.”
“So you say,” she says, skeptical.
“Yes. So I say. And my word is my bond, girl. So let’s go. Unless you can think of another use for this room.”
The blush which consumes her face immediately makes me smirk. She lights up like a neon sign and can’t make that contrary eye contact anymore.
“HOUR’S UP!” The saloon owner bangs on the door. “Another ten dinari for another ten minutes, or we can swap the girl out for a better one.”
“You want to swap me out for a better one?” Josie smirks at me.
“Naw, yer alright,” I say, reaching for her. “Let’s get out of here.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and steer her out of the room, past the waiting saloon owner who gives us a strange look as we go by. He’s wondering why I didn’t want one of his painted ladies. Maybe another time. Maybe never. I can’t help thinking that none of the women down there could shoot a man between the eyes. If they could, they wouldn’t be in this saloon.
“You don’t have to keep hold of me,” Josie complains as we go down the stairs. “It’s not as if I’m going to run away as soon as you let me go, just because I don’t trust a thing you say and also because you whipped me, and also because you’re trying to steal the ranch from me the same way Atticus did.”
“I’m not stealing a damn thing, girl. I’m cutting a deal. One you agreed to.”
“Did I?”
I swat her backside, feel my fingers wrap under the curve of her ass. She’s got a nice rear, one I’m going to be thinking about in my dreams for a good while, I reckon. My hand lingers longer than it needs to, until she squeaks and darts forward, not from the slap, but from the more intimate pressure. She’s skittish as hell. I don’t know if that’s because she’s never been with a man, or because she’s been with one who made her fear other men. For most women on this rock, it’s the latter that’s the case. A lot of broken hearts and bodies litter these plains.
It’s going to be interesting traveling with a girl. I don’t allow women in my posse. Even the ones that are good with guns, and there’s a fair few of them these days. Hard times make for strong people. But there’s no way I can keep order when there’s women in camp. Men and women in the same space leads to couples, squabbling, and more often than not, gets people dead. My boys want to pair off, they make their own way. That’s the rules.
I release her shoulder and shrug. “You want to run, run,” I say. “But you’re not going to get a better deal, and I think you know that.”
We’ve stopped halfway down the stairs, which gives us a view of the saloon. There’s drinking, carousing, bright splashes of silk dresses the only color in this otherwise dirt-ridden dustbowl of a watering hole.
She looks over the railing, sees the girls, and her face scrunches up. I’m guessing she’s seeing herself in about six months if she doesn’t get some money.
Josie
“Also,” he says, his lips close to my ear. “Atticus knows you’re still alive. So if you try to go it alone, I give you another week at most before one of those bounty hunters tracks you down and does unspeakable things to you. Sort of things that would make you wish you were one of those painted girls.”
He’s not wrong, but saying it makes him an asshole.
I jerk my elbow back toward his midsection, hard, expecting him to double over in pain. All I hear is a grunt, but I’m betting that for a man like Orion Steelbane that’s probably equivalent to a full on scream.
“Don’t threaten me…. AIIEEEE!”
I stop growling at him and instead let out a shriek as Orion throws me over the banister and starts whipping my ass with the flat of his palm, ruthlessly hard, devastatingly public slaps landing on the same places his belt just did.
“Don’t you ever take the fight to me,” he says, his words punctuated by the staccato swats landing in time with the music being banged out on the piano. “Because, little girl, I will whip you until you cry, and then I will ravage you so thoroughly you won’t remember what being a virgin was like.”