𝙑𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙣 || 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙧

Thirteen.

Chapter thirteen: Gasoline

A bullet lodged its way into an innocent man's head and the sound echoed between the valley, along with the sound of horrified, grief-stricken cries in protest and disbelief. Then another popped, then another.

William couldn't hold Margo back. As fast as she could, her heart beating wildly at the thought of the consequences the executions could lead to, there was nothing stopping her. And before she could allow anything to happen to her friends, she ran through the grass, nearly stumbling in the process due to her light head, wounds and her supposed broken ankle. Hissing with the pain that shot up her leg upon striding, she had to keep pushing. 

When she got closer, she heard yelling in Spanish. She may not have spoken the language but with Pope's hand shooing the citizens away from the net, she presumed he was telling them to back away from the money and with the gun in his hand, she guessed he was threatening them with the loaded weapon.

Out of breath, she glanced to the bodies which were being mollycoddled by those who held them so dearly to their souls. Sighing, she frowned briefly to show the farmers some sort of remorse though in reality, she didn't care. She was just relieved that it wasn't her men on the ground being cried over by herself.

"Benny! Margo! Get these people back towards the village!"

Margo nodded wordlessly to Tom. Adjusting the grip on her gun and with her face washing over with stern, she nudged the weapon in the direction of the town goers,shooing them like a flock of sheep, yelling to them to get back despite knowing they couldn't understand, though they knew enough to see that she was angry and with her finger on the trigger, she was ruthless just by a glance. She'd kill them quicker than Redfly did to their men.

Another bullet pierced the air and with her blonde, frizzy hair flipping back, she turned to see Tom with his gun raised after putting a man out of his misery. He simply looked back with a nod, telling her to continue into the village.

The glares she received were horrendous and they sent shivers up her spine. People had stopped working and whilst the American's moved through their farm, they could only look at them with pure hatred for taking away their friends and family. Overhead, a grey cloud had formed and it only foreshadowed that another storm was yet to come. 

When a wooden pen full of mules came into sight, she sighed, her eyes locking with Ben's whom leaned against the fence. He stared at her for a moment before licking his lips and looking away. 

He noticed William behind her and he recalled their encounter when they were left alone. He wondered what they were talking about but he knew it couldn't have been good. Some things were just better left unsaid, and now, to keep the peace, maybe distancing himself from her would do the awkward tension the world of good. 

William noticed this and looked to his younger brother with an eyebrow raised, worry lines printing on his forehead but Ben only sent him a glare and scoffed shortly after tearing his sight away. Ben had only felt jealousy twice in his life and both times regarded William and Margo and it polluted his brain with toxicity. 

Jealousy is a cruel emotion and it destroys its victims by tarring their pure hearts with poison. William and Margo communicating was inevitable. They had history together but not only that, they had strong ties to Ben himself. Could he really live life with such crippling hardships? 

"All right." Tom appeared from behind William without a trace of regret for what he's done. "Let's get these donkeys saddled up. Get bags on 'em."

"Where's Pope?"