Itās true Kelly is worth more to Sam alive than he is dead, but that doesnāt mean Samuel will hesitate in shooting the outlaw should be prove himself to be more trouble than heās worth. Admittedly Samuel always tries to bring his bounties in alive, but he hasnāt lived to the age of 41 by being overly compassionate. He is not a soft touch, something men have seen fit to force him to prove time and time again, always to their detriment. You donāt live long in this game if you try to give the men you hunt the benefit of the doubt.
āOh civilised gentleman are we now James? What would you have us do, sit here in our button-up shirts and politely shoot the shitā¦maybe have us talk about the pissinā rain while you figure out how best to kill me?ā
In truth, Samuel knows better than to take even the smallest sip of whiskey tonight; he knows himself too well, knows that he will get the taste for it, a taste Kelly is likely to manipulate to either subdue him or make a quick escape.
Slowly Samuel slips into the seat, but he does not lower his gun, nor take his eyes off Kelly for a second, even when the bartender starts flapping his gums, because he wants James to see the tense conviction shining in his eyes.
āOh we is goinā, donāt you worry ābout that. Big Kelly here is gonna finish his drink, put on āem cuffs and accompany me like the civilised old boy he is, aināt you Kelly?ā
Now sat side by side Kelly was met with the full force of Silasā glare. Despite the steel in his gaze, Kelly didnāt shy away, instead taking the opportunity to getĀ a good look at him and get a sense of the man he was up against.Ā
There was no softness about him, that much was clear, in his appearance nor in his affect. Of course that was somewhat expected of a man who'd been in the business as long as he, but the years didn't seem to have taken their toll. At least not in the way it might have, perhaps only picking away at his patience considering the lack of any he showed today.
āYou tryna say I aināt a gentleman?ā Kelly interjected, said with the wily grin of a man anything but. "You just seemed like you could use a drink is all... Jesus!Ā You ever lighten up?ā
The bartender didnāt seem to be having any of it.
Ā Ā Ā āI donāt remember saying you could take your sweet time. Now means now.ā
āWeāre goinā, weāre goinā!ā Kelly hollered right back, muttering his displeasure. āThanks for nothinā Marshal you damn bastard.āĀ
He took his time, raising his glass in friendly toast toĀ Silas and to the bartender in turn, even as he cursed them out. Of course, it was never going to be thatĀ easy. The next second was a blur of movement, glass cracking between the bony side of Silasā head and the fleshy pad of Kellyās palm, chairs flying, gunshots popping somewhere above the clattering as he bolted for the back.
Kellyās hand was hot and wet and smarting something awful as he pushed through swinging doors out into the pouring rain. His heart hammering hearing the ruckus following behind him, lurching a little more with every slip through the mud to where his horse was lashed. Perhaps not quite as graceful an exit as he had planned, but he was out, yanking at Bessā reigns as he clambered up into her saddle, kicking her into motion.
discoholicmusic
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
snowghoul
stormborns
tangentwithtanner
2087
