𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘎𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘉𝘜𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 | ʀᴅʀ

Chapter Twenty-Three

Seeming to know they were talking about him, Javier raised his head, chewing as he looked at Dutch, before his gaze slowly drifted to meet hers, his eyes dark and sullen.

He looked at her for a moment, before he dropped his gaze to his food, but ate much slower this time, seeming to be more mindful of the way he took each bite now that the attention was on him.

"Okay..." Rosalie said, watching as he ate, and didn't say anything to her. His quietness was kind of unnerving.

Hosea, taking this time to chime in, leaned against the table with his hands clasped, regarding her with a raised brow from where he sat beside Arthur. "Dutch wants to give him a place with us until he can make his own decision to stay... or if he proves to be useful. The man seems like he has nowhere to go and was on the brink of starvation when Dutch found him."

Mac grunted. "For talkin' about him in front of his face he ain't sayin' very much." He leaned against the table with his palms flat on the surface, eyeing Javier with a critical gaze. "You talk, fella?"

Javier lifted his head and blinked at him. Something resembling fear flickered across his face, thinking Mac to be a threat from his looming size and the attitude he had, before he shook his head and waved his hand out in front of him. "Ah... no English."

Mac leaned back and scratched his chin. "Well, shit."

Arthur made a face and waved a hand in Javier's direction. "I dunno Dutch. It's weird. He don't speak a lick of English, has nothin' on him. Looks like he wandered up here from Mexico on foot. What if he's dangerous? I know you said he needs some cleanin' up, but I don't think it's a good idea to let him around the women when we ain't got a clue what kinda' man he is... or why he's runnin'." He trailed off, looking over at him with a grimace.

"Well, then we'll just have to wait until he can tell us his story himself, hm?" Dutch asked, raising a brow as he looked at Arthur. "Don't be so harsh. He ain't got a thing to his name right now. I have a feelin' we're the first to show him some real kindness, if that injury on his neck is proof enough."

Arthur sighed and nodded. "I ain't tryna' be overly critical or nothin', Dutch. I just don't wanna have any problems."

Rosalie grimaced. "What happened to his neck?"

Javier looked between them, seemingly oblivious to the words being passed between them, but knew well enough that they were talking about him as they kept looking over during their conversation.

Dutch shook his head. "Ain't got a clue. Not like he can tell me—but it's poorly taken care of. Didn't think we should have any of the women take a look at him, like Arthur said."

Rosalie hummed, not noticing the way Dutch stared at her expectantly. Arthur and Hosea shared a look. Mac scratched at his cheek, awkwardly, looking from Javier to her, then back at Dutch.

Rosalie stared at Dutch with a blank expression, not understanding what he was getting at, before it finally clicked.

She shook her head and took a step back, Dutch's arm falling off her shoulder as she waved her hand around, cigarette still between her fingers.

"No way—you want me to clean him up?" She asked, baffled. "Dutch, I don't have a clue about taking care of people or bandaging them! That's for Susan to do, not me!"

"Now, now listen here," Dutch began, taking a step forward. "I don't know a lick of Spanish. Just a few things here and there. You had that friend of yours who spoke Spanish though, right? And you taught that little girl English? Why, that means you can help him too. You've done it before with someone much younger—a grown man can't be that hard in comparison. It would be a good way for him to trust you—and, I know you're fully capable of handling yourself if he pulls some funny business. Arthur ain't wrong about us not knowin' his intentions."