‘ aw, c’mon, ashe — ya know damn well it ain’t gotta be like this. ’ smoke billows from the cigar lodged in the corner of his mouth, head tilted as he speaks. ‘ you were my family, once. ‘ / @huckleberrytm.
“once.”
she wonders how many times they’ve done this song &. dance. no matter what was said, no matter what was done— it always seemed to end with one of them looking down the barrel of the other’s gun.
or, in jesse’s case, countless. not all of them wore the deadlock cut. his defection from the gang rippled much further than ashe had initially realized. it seemed there were always echoes of his brief spout as judge, jury &. executioner.
“y’don’t want it to be like this, jesse? you wanna go back to family?”
her voice comes even.
“then you best lay down an’ die.”
