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The air was still and stale all around you, scented with old leather and rotting wood. Particles of dust danced through the air as dim light shone in through the filthy, cluttered windows. Needing to feel busy, you swiped a grimy old cloth over the cracked and splintering counter top, understanding it did very little. The shop was quiet, as it often was, but you preferred it that way as it gave you time to think. Your thoughts weren’t always pleasant, in fact they rarely were, but you much rathered their company over the presence of anyone the ugly little town had to offer.
Years had passed since the days you ran with the Van der Linde gang. You missed the action, sure, but you knew ultimately leaving that life was the only thing keeping you alive. Unable to blend with society as another sorry sack of shit, working under the law, making pennies to your name, you seeked out something more comfortable. Walking through Van Horn, seeing the low lifes and degenerates, you felt right at home in the filthy little place. You approached the fence and made your negotiations clear. You were working for him and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Life was good. Not great, but good.
The only thing missing was decent companionship, though you’d done a good job convincing yourself you didn’t need it anymore.
When things went sour, all those years ago, you’d stayed with Dutch and fought fiercely against the Pinkertons to save your skins. He asked you to hide with him and the others as the dust settled, but you declined, already having your own plan. The others were loyal and stupid, too much to see how things really were, but you were the stupidest of all when you chose instead to hide with your long time lover, Micah.
You and Micah had formed a bond over the years, you saw eye-to-eye on the issues of gang politics and you admired him for his strength and conviction. There was a time when your love for each other was passionate, albeit volatile, and felt true. You followed him into hiding, believing him when he promised to relive the glory days. You helped with healing his damaged eye and accompanied him on the jobs he planned, but as days dragged onto months, you could feel him leaving you behind. He'd been so busy trying to play dress-up as a man with power, recruiting more desperate goons all the time, he’d almost forgotten about you entirely. You weren’t going to let love blind you into being a sad puppy following him around. You saw how that turned out for Molly.
Micah’s gaze burned into you as you gathered your minimal things and dipped out. You’d made your feelings clear to him. On top of ignoring you, his plans were getting more violent, his actions more erratic and ruthless. Gone were the days of proper plans and cunning jobs, he was simply reveling in terrorizing the countryside. You had more dignity than that and you were done being used by him.
Luckily for you, your face wasn’t one that the law seemed to recognize. Your exodus from the disorganized chaos of your new gang was a smooth one, though not entirely easy on your heart.
A northern wind blew against the door, causing it to rattle slightly. You glanced up in time to see the shadow of a figure pace into view. You put on your gruff customer service face and waited to see which scoundrel would walk through. When the door opened to reveal Micah, even your hardened heart wasn’t ready.
“Howdy cowpoke,” he said with an ominous grin.
You suppressed a gasp and instead said after a pause, “you better not be here to cause trouble.”
Micah laughed as he held his empty hands out to the side. You knew the gesture was meaningless as he could draw faster than most men. “I was told I’d find you here,” he said with a dark laugh.
“You was asking about me? Trying to get me wrapped up in your shit again?” You snarled. He was still a very wanted man, his distinct scar was easily identifiable and you knew people would remember he was asking about you.
He just chuckled as he sauntered to the counter. You stood your ground, watching him approach with your most intimidating posture. You knew it wouldn’t work on him but you didn’t want him to think you’d be easy to push around. “Is it so wrong to wanna see an old friend?” He asked with mock sincerity.
“With you? Yes.” You answered coldly. You’d seen what happened when he dropped in on old ‘friends’ in the past. It always ended with bloodshed. His new unleashed lease on life promised nothing better for you.
Micah sucked in a breath and leaned his posture back with a groan. “Then I guess it’s good we’re old lovers .” He said with a smirk.
“Shut up. What are you here for?”
His expression fell. If he was expecting banter, you weren’t giving into him. He swiped a hand under his nose and sniffed. “Maybe I just wanted to stop by?”
“You went through a lot of trouble just to stop by.” You pointed out. Your direct comments were taking him out of his comfort zone. He shifted in place as he gripped his gun belt.
“You got me there, cowpoke.” He chuckled. His eye searched the room as he considered his next words. “My gang is getting big now, lotta tough, dumb men but they’re willing to lay down their lives for me.” He glanced up at you as if he was waiting for your validation.
You just snorted, “and you, the king of the dumb-sons-a-bitches left ‘em all alone up in the mountains just to come here?”
He smiled, “I figured I was missin’ the toughest, dumbest one of em all, thought maybe you’d wanna run with us again now that I’ve got somethin’ real going.” He said with a raised eyebrow.
You looked at him with a flat expression. He really thought you’d be desperate to run back to him at a moment’s notice. “The only real thing you got going for you is your ego.” you retorted.
He chewed his lip for a moment as he turned to look out the window. With his back to you he said a little more quietly, “it just ain’t the same without you there.”
You felt an anger burn in your chest, masking the sadness. “It’s been two long years, Micah. You picked a weird fuckin’ time to remember me.”
He spit a single laugh before saying. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
“You had a funny way of showing it.”
He inhaled deeply before letting it out in one smooth sigh, “my priorities may have been a bit… disorganized.” He admitted unconvincingly. You rolled your eyes. He looked away, his terrible posture accentuated by a nervous shift of his feet before he added quietly, “I wasn’t always good to you but… that doesn’t mean I stopped lovin’ you.”
You exhaled out of your nose indignantly, refusing to be manipulated by him again. “That ship has sailed Micah.” You said firmly, before adding one final stab, “I quit loving you years ago.”
The way his posture stiffened at your words, you knew you’d hurt him. You were lying of course, and part of you felt bad for it, but you knew it was the right thing to do. The only place Micah could take you now was right into an early grave. No amount of love you had left for him was worth dying for.
Micah turned to approach the counter, his gaze dark. He placed a hand on the countertop as he leaned in to mumble, “yeah well...you were just an easy lay.” He stood back up, sucking air through his teeth and turned to walk out. Your eyes were on the back of his head, your teeth grit with anger when something caught your eye. On the counter he’d left a small piece of folded paper. You glanced quickly between his back and the offering before picking it up. As the door swung open and light washed into the store you could see that there were words scrawled in it.
Darkness overtook the shop again as you unfurled the note. It was written in his own hand.
I had a lot of time to think on the ride down. Fuck you for being so far away. Things ain’t been the same without you. I miss think it’d be good to have you around. Find me on Mount Hagen, lets raise hell again - M
You scoffed as you read the note. You knew that him even leaving it there for you meant he still cared, but you’d made your final choice for a second time.
Your convictions didn’t stop a single tear from slipping out as you grieved the good days, crumpling the note and stuffing it in your pocket.
~~~
As you made your way back to work the next morning, the usually somber little town seemed to have brightened, with locals chatting in excited, albeit hushed, tones. You looked around, wondering if there might be a noteworthy ship sailing through or a traveling salesman, there to promise a solution to every wretched problem in their useless lives, but no such oddities stood out against the dull grey facade of Van Horn.
You tried eavesdropping but no discernible information could be gathered over the muddy squelch of hoofbeats and wagon wheels over the damp, unkempt street.
Approaching the clerk at the mail office you leaned an elbow on the counter and prodded nonchalantly, “folk seem in good spirits today.”
“Aye, haven’t ya heard?” the man answered as he dropped the stack of mail he’d been sorting to bustle to the window. You responded with a curious stare, waiting for him to elaborate. The man leaned in, “them murfreed brood, what was terrorizing the area,” his eyes shifted back and forth as if the news might draw in the unsavoury presence if spoken too loudly, “they was all wiped out last night! No one knows who done it!”
You leaned back in contemplation. You had a hunch. “Well shit,” you replied as you gave the man an approving nod, “folk must be pretty relieved.”
The clerk hummed happily as he returned to his work, “the first good news this town got in years I reckon.” He agreed.
As your steps clicked hollowly down the weatherworn old pier you pieced together what likely happened. A man like Micah only knew how to express himself in one way: by causing chaos. The hurt he felt couldn’t be contained within him, instead he’d cut a bloody swath across eastern New Hanover. He’d chosen to attack folk as violent and ruthless as he was, bringing peace to the area instead of calling the law down, in turn keeping you safe in two separate and meaningful ways.
You took a deep breath, tinged with the taste of salt air and rotten wood, and passed through the threshold, ready to start a new day behind the counter. You felt the sting of sadness, but as you settled back into the routine of your daily life, you knew you’d ultimately made the right choice.