Gold Dust Widow: The Story of an Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 22: Jasper

"That she is, an interesting catch," Ian agreed. He crouched down next to her and grabbed her face. I couldn't help flinching. But Clara's eyes met mine, calm and strong.

"Get your hands off her," I cocked my pistol, pointing it at my older brother. His eyes were gleaming, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. A crazed expression I recognised well, he always did enjoy having all the power in a room.

But he also looked older, skinnier, his pinkie finger was missing, his hair was cut too short.

"Were you also hunting the One-Shot Kid?" he murmured, glancing down at Clara. "You got a reputation for such a slight thing. Looks like you're headed for the noose after all this," he smirked at her.

"Step back and put your hands up," I barked.

"I wouldn't be giving out orders, brother. You're facing four men with guns," Ian warned.

I chuckled. "That's right. And you're facing me with a gun."

"You wouldn't shoot your own brother."

"I would shoot you," I disagreed. "You're no brother of mine."

"You hurt me, Jasper," Ian chuckled. "And for a girl?"

I glanced at Clara, my lips twisting up into a smile.

"She's wanted in five different states. She'd be worth it," I replied.

Her eyes shone as she chuckled.

"I'm mighty proud of that," she replied, glancing at Ian. "How many states are you wanted in?"

He barked out a laugh.

"This is not a time to be comparing crimes," Thomas growled, holding his rifle up to my head. "Gun down lawman."

I glanced at him; the rifle in his hands was very close to my face. The skinny little man stood with his pistol pointed at me as well, a few steps behind Thomas. The grizzly man was staring a little too much at Clara.

I ground my teeth. I didn't have to know these men's faces, or know their wanted posters, to guess who they were. Ian had been a part of the Mealy Gang for almost a decade. Which meant that these men were also a part, or associated with, the gang.

And more importantly, they'd hurt and stolen Clara.

Thomas glanced down, wincing at his leg as he stepped closer to me. It was all I needed.

I grabbed the back of his neck and hauled him in front of me, ducking quickly as the first two bullets whizzed through the air, digging deep into his chest. Thomas barely had time to gasp and gurgle in pain before I ripped the rifle from his hand and kicked him to the ground, bleeding out.

Before he thudded to his knees, I pulled the trigger twice. Two headshots. The skinny man and the grizzly man both slumped to the ground, their blood splattered against the wood behind them.

The shots echoed within the small room, I turned towards my brother. Thomas was still on his front; he'd started moaning in pain, his blood seeping into the floorboards.

Ian had grabbed Clara; he hauled her to her feet, pulling her hair back, baring her soft white throat towards me. I could tell she was in pain, her plush lips pressed together as she struggled against him.

He held his pistol to her temple, which stilled her immediately. Her cornflower blue eyes met mine.

"You always had a tell," Ian drawled, glaring at the bodies of his three companions. "When you liked a girl."

"Hand her over, Ian," I reached out, keeping my pistol aimed at his head.

Ian glared back at me, pulling Clara closer to him, his arm wrapping around her waist.