Lovers Not Without Sin | Dutch van der Linde x OC

Chapter 40

The trouble with not being able to sleep after a night of drinking is the hangover that slowly creeps up on the body until it's completely taken over. Ada doesn't remember when her head started pounding, but it feels as though it's been this way for an eternity. Thankful for the light that replaces that dark, she shifts slightly on the cot and crosses one leg over to watch the lawmen going about their business in the small jail.

Arthur makes a noise, something that he'd likely hoped would bear some semblance to a coherent remark, but remains in his curled-up position. Ada hums for him to try again. "I wanna throw up," he mumbles.

"Don't think our friends will appreciate that," she snorts, pondering the two pristine-looking lawmen.

"Can't believe that slippery bastard managed to get away," he adds and Ada sighs in agreement, drumming her fingertips on her stomach to distract from the marching band playing against her skull.

She resorts to counting her breaths to get the time to pass a little faster. It doesn't work.

"Gentleman!" the familiar baritone of Dutch is one she's never been so happy to hear, as the door swings open and he outstretches his arms sometime later. Ada can't help but smirk, glancing over at Arthur who's decidedly unresponsive, and she's unsure whether he's fallen back into sleep or just doesn't care enough to look up.

"Can we help you?" asks the sheriff while he lazily cleans his gun.

"I think you can, you see, my cousin and I have found ourselves in a spot of trouble."

"Trouble?"

Dutch hums, taking in the view of the room. "Had to uproot ourselves recently, got laid off from our mining jobs and well..." he tilts his head to Arthur, "he hasn't been taking it very well."

The sheriff nods, throwing a glace of realisation towards the cell. "My pappy was a miner," he chirps.

"That so?" Dutch's eyes widen with enthusiasm and he leans up against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "Only the hardest of workers find themselves in that line of work, it is no easy job."

"Oh I'd agree," the sheriff moves his feet off the table and scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Always needing some remedy or other to combat whatever ailment he's picked up working in that place. He was a good man."

Dutch nods as though reliving a similar experience in his head. "That much is clear, he must've done a lot of good in his life to wind up with his own son becoming a sheriff. Quite remarkable."

The man smiles, drinking in the compliment but feigning modesty with a shrug. "Some of us ain't so lucky..." his gaze wanders back to Arthur. "Aw hell, I'll just release him for you," he stands to fumble with his keys, "just make sure he keeps his sorrows to himself, no more fighting in this town."

Dutch lifts his arms nobly and then places his hands on his chest. "You have my word."

"What about the girl?" he gestures to Ada.

"Oh, her?" the glint in Dutch's eyes as he finally looks over to her is a tell that he's enjoying this far too much. "You see, the thing is with her," he lowers his tone and torso to the man, "she's a little... funny. Got a few issues, but we do our best with her."

Ada rolls her eyes, chewing her tongue and leaning her head back on the wall.

"That explains it," he nods thoughtfully.

"Explains what?" Dutch smirks.

"Now I don't mean to offend," he extends his hands to pre-placate any response, "but I'm happy to be rid of her, she didn't sleep all night... it was a little creepy."