❛ find me | after being taken by an enemy gang, arthur and some other’s come to find you.
❛ warnings: death, verbal abuse, torture, blood, threats, unwanted touch (nothing too extreme), mentions of sexual assault
Most members of the gang were out on missions or doing their own thing, while the women and Jack hung back helping around camp like usual. Everyone at camp was practically incapable of hurting even just a fly, and that became an issue very quickly.
The usually quiet and boring camp known as Shady Belle was under attack by Lemoyne Riders who decided they wanted to take the abandoned home back under their control. Many hustled into the home through the back door, attempting to find a weapon and somewhere to hide, just in case they had to use it.
Unfortunately, you weren’t one of the ones to make it back inside. The rest of the girls had kept the doors shut with heavy items that you couldn’t possibly move with force unless you had any assistance, which you didn’t. Currently, you could only hope for the best as you hid behind some thick bushes by the swamp, praying that nobody saw you.
While you stayed hidden, you watched the scene unfold. The men had managed to kick the doors in, knocking down any possible obstacle in their path with ease. Still observing carefully, you peered around the leaves, and you realized that a dear friend of yours was now on the ground, coughing and groaning in pain as she was kicked by the male above her.
Without even thinking you jumped out from behind the bush, revealing yourself and placing yourself in a sticky situation you didn’t want to be in. Instantly, you raised both of your arms up to the sky, trying your best to prove that you were no threat. Immediately, the four men aimed their guns at you, prepared to shoot if you had made any decisions that weren’t to their liking. “What in the hell are ya doin’ missy? We’ll kill ya too, a bullet right through ya damn brain.”
Fear consumed your whole entire being as you stood there, forcing your hands not to sweat and shake as you attempted to stand your ground. You knew Abigail was cursing at you in her head, calling you insulting names while she scolded you for jumping into action like this since she could take care of herself, but you couldn’t just watch her get beat helplessly. Being the selfless young woman you were, you had to do this - she didn’t need this and neither did her son. “I realize you’re here to take the place, but we ain’t got nowhere to go. Please, just take me instead.”
The main ‘leader’ narrowed his eyes as he took another step forward, still pointing his gun at your chest. “Well, you are a pretty girl, ain’t ya?” he took a calloused hand and pressed it against your face, using his thumb to rub small circles on your cheek as he pulled you closer to him.
You internally cringed, trying to hold back any disgust you had for this. Just the way he spoke to you and even touched your face made you want to punch him square in the jaw. Yet, you knew you had no other choice; protecting your fellow gang members was more important to you, and leaving them with a place to actually stay safe and warm was something that would make you happy, even if you were risking your life.
In a matter of seconds, a gun had hit the back of your head and you fell down to the dirt ground out cold. The two men had held Abigail back from tearing any of them off as you as one hogtied you, stowing you on his horse before they mounted their steeds and began to ride away from the camp while Abigail screamed out your name, hoping that it would awaken you, but it didn’t and she was worried. Worried for you and for the rest of the gang.
You groaned in pain as you had awoken for about the hundredth time, tears welling in your eyes as a huge amount of pain hit you like a freight train. After being knocked out a couple of days ago, you had felt very groggy and weak; you had absolutely no energy to do anything. You didn’t bother to scream for help, you didn’t bother to let sobs escape your lips, you didn’t even bother to try and escape from this hellhole.
Because the little ounce of hope that you had deep in your body had faded away, knowing no one was going to bother to save you. You refused to return back to a ‘family’ that wasn’t coming to get you and bring you back into warm open warms.
A loud creak of a door caught your attention as your eyes traveled to the now open door, revealing a man that you had recognized. It was the man from a while ago that had knocked you out. You weren’t quite sure what his name was, or why he even bothered to take you in exchange for Shady Belle. “Hey, darlin’.” the man purred, inching closer to your being, dragging the tips of his fingers down your neck to your almost exposed chest.
A dull look was in your eyes as you looked down at his hand, tracing what seemed like every inch of your skin. Usually, you would do your best to get him off of you, whether it be spewing insults, or spitting in his face, but you did absolutely nothing.
“Aw, you ain’t feisty no more. Maybe I - I mean we - can finally do what we wanna do to ya. Ol’ Dutchie and your friends ain’t comin’ to save ya, so I think it’s safe to say we have ya to ourselves.” the man chuckled, playing with the greasy strands of your hair while he observed you intently, licking his lips.
“Just fucking kill me.” your voice was hoarse and barely audible, but it caught that man’s attention.
He lifted your chin up harshly, forcing you to look straight into his lust-filled blue eyes. He rose his right arm up high before the palm of his hand came in contact with your skin. “I’m gon’ have my fun with ya, and so is everybody else. You ain’t gettin’ out of this easy. We’ll fuck ya, hard, and then we’ll think about killin’ ya.”
“Wayne! Wayne!” a voice from outside called, interrupting who you now knew as Wayne, from doing anything else with you. The brunette male spewed out some curses under his breath as he turned away, not forgetting to slam and lock the worn-out door behind him.
As soon as you were alone, silent tears began to roll down your rosy cheeks as you realized that Wayne was indeed right. Maybe you weren’t as important as you once imagined - it had been days and no one had come looking for you. You were loyal, and you did what you had to do in order to protect the others, but you always thought that if you had ever disappeared in such a way that they would find you.
You’re worthless. You’re nothing to them. You’re just a pawn in whatever game they’re playing.
The negative thoughts had finally entered your mind, swarming every good little thing and eating it alive. Thoughts about Arthur, they were gone. Thoughts about Jack and Abigail, they were gone. The good memories you had with the other gang members, they were gone. Everything was self-hate and you felt so broken, so damaged.
While you sat tied down to the chair, you hung your head low as tears continued to flood, staining your cheeks. The frown deepened on your features as you finally realized that nobody was coming for you after these weeks had passed.
You were going to die here.
Arthur furrowed his brows in frustration as he threw his hands up in the air, arguing with Dutch. He had noticed this man had changed - breaking the rules he had made for this gang. It seemed like he wanted everyone to die so he could keep the money they had to himself. “Why ain’t we out there savin’ her? She saved all the women and Jack when them Lemoyne Riders came to camp while we was gone. It’s our responsibility to get (Name).”
“We will, we will, Arthur,” Dutch reassured the green-eyed man, patting his shoulder yet Arthur could hear the disinterest in Dutch’s voice. He seemed so concentrated on getting money and somehow escaping to Tahiti with his mango farm, he didn’t realize (Name) was going to die in the hands of these Lemoyne gang members.
The rather concerned male internally scoffed at his leader’s actions before wandering away from the tent, heading towards Charles and John. The two were sitting on a bench, John doing absolutely nothing but making a little small talk while Charles cleaned his weapons. “Oh, hey Arthur, what’s going on?” Charles questioned, his gaze flying up to look right at Arthur’s face.
“(Name), she’s been gone for weeks. Dutch has been sayin’ the same horseshit for weeks, sayin’ we’ll get her as soon as possible, but we ain’t even made any progress to do so.” Arthur paused as he looked at both the men in front of him, who clearly were prepared to go save one of their fellow gang members. “He ain’t gon’ try and save her, he’s just gon’ leave her to die and that ain’t happenin’. If y’all wanna come with me, that’s fine, if not I’m goin’ myself.”
In a matter of minutes, Arthur, John, and Charles were mounted on their horses with weapons, food, drinks and the necessities. The trio exited camp and began riding down the dirt path, Arthur leading the way as he began to explain the plan to them. “I was tryin’ to get some information from Abigail since she was there. She said from Shady Belle, it looked like they had gone north, probably somewhere up near the swamps by Saint-Denis. Heard some local talkin’ about some gang members cabin, and I’m for sure it’s the Lemoyne Riders.”
“It seems like a decent hideout for them, especially if they kidnap girls and do God knows what. They sure as hell ain’t gon’ want anyone to hear nothin’.” John commented as they continued down the road, heading towards the swamps.
Charles shot John a look as he noticed Arthur’s eyes fill with a rage he hasn’t seen in quite a while. Quickly, Charles contradicted John’s statement. “I’m sure nothing has happened to (Name). She’s a smart and strong girl, she can handle herself for a while. Let’s just get to the bottom of this and bring her home, alright guys?”
The two others nodded in response, the silence between the three of them as they continued towards the camp where they would retrieve you, bring you home safe and sound.
A man shoved a metal bowl in your face, forcing you to eat the stew that was cooked. It didn’t taste very good at all - it was probably the last bit of food in the pot, and they probably stuck their dirty feet in it before feeding it to you. Even though you despised the taste, your stomach growled and begged for any source of food, and this was indeed your only option.
“This is ya only meal of the week, so ya better make it last inside that lil tummy of yours. I’m sure it’ll be holdin’ a baby or somethin’ soon, Wayne sure as hell ready to do whatever to ya, he thinks your beautiful.” the man commented, before pulling the half-empty bowl away from you, denying you the rest of the food.
“Where in the hell is she? You fuckin’ bastards!”
Gunshots rang in your ears and your heart could’ve leaped out of your chest. That voice you could’ve recognized miles away - it belonged to no one other than Arthur Morgan, and he had finally come for you. Later, you’d be angry with him that he had left you here for this long, but for now, all you could do was wait. Wait for him to free you from this hellhole.
Several minutes later, the gunshots had finally stopped. Both you and the O’Driscoll were still in the cellar, while the two of you hoped for the opposite things. You heard the creaking of wooden stairs grow louder and louder, notifying that someone was finally coming; you weren’t quite sure if it was your Arthur or one of the other members, but all you knew was you were being saved.
The door was kicked in and swung open, revealing an angry Arthur Morgan. His eyes were narrowed while his brows furrowed. His cheeks were a reddish tint as he stared down the O’Driscoll in front of him. “You get the hell outta my god damn way,” he growled, anger lacing his tone. It was enough to even scare you.
In a flash, a bullet was shot out of a pistol that was hidden behind his back. Tears welled in your eyes as you hung your head low, looking down at your stomach, which was now bleeding endlessly. Another gunshot was heard, the bald man that had just fired his gun at you, had fallen to the grounded now dead.
Arthur rushed towards you, worry dancing his green orbs. Without hesitation, he reached for the knife he owned and cut the ropes, relieving any pain in your wrists and ankles, but he was sure you weren’t focused on that too much. “(Name), (Name), you gotta stay with me. Open ya eyes and look at me, smile, you’re goin’ home.”
You stare blankly at the man in front of you, letting the tears fall down your face with no shame. “Am I dead?” you questioned, a frown on your face as you watched Arthur’s hopeful expression falter. He knew you were dying, and so did you.
He didn’t respond, but his face said it all. You could read the expression like a book as your mind endlessly replayed the scene that had just happened; the gunshot, the death of that man, the sad expression on Arthur’s face. It was like a record player on repeat and this was the blues song it couldn’t stop playing.
“Just stay awake (Name), you’re gonna be alright. We’re gon’ get ya home. (Name)? Are ya hearin’ me? Hang in there.”
Arthur’s voice began to grow softer and more urgent. The pain in your abdomen began to subside as you stared at the man you had grown to love, using all of the energy you had left to use your last moments to stare into this gorgeous green eyes. Eventually, your vision began to grow hazy and dark as your eyelids got heavy, slowly shutting on their own.
Weakly and hushed, you muttered two last words. “Goodbye, Arthur.”
