#ash Upson

[carajilloplz]

i. cowboy like me ₊˚⊹⋆ billy the kid

warnings: none really lol, just 1870s bs and low-key flirting

The lace fan in your hand and the spring breeze did little to soothe the flush caused by the early afternoon sunshine, making a light blush crawl up to your cheeks and small beads of sweat pool at the nape of your neck. It was pleasant to be out on the terrace of your friend’s townhouse, basking in the pleasure of not having to fuss over much before the season starts, but the imminent peril of your debut kept your mind elsewhere from the untouched tea and pastries laid out before you.

“Ada, do you suppose your brother’s guest will be handsome?” mused Josie, slumped over her chair turning to look at Ada

“Josie! Hush, don’t say things like that, I’d never be interested in someone who’s my brother’s age.”

“I’m just saying that if he’s going to be staying in your house, eating your food, and disturbing your peace he might as well be nice-looking”

“Perhaps Josie has a point, Ada.” you reasoned “Do you really know who this man is?”

“I barely just learned this morning that my brother’s coming back to New York, give me a break girls.”

“What I do know is that his friend’s a cowboy at his father’s ranch in colorado and that he’s looking for a change of scenery for a while, so my brother’s bringing him up here.”

A cowboy? You’d seen what they’re like on your trips to Texas— rough, rugged, almost uncouth, but there was something that intrigued you about a man that could ride in the ranges all day and never get tired of the landscape’s expanse. You saw a bit of yourself in that. A cowboy’s the furthest you’d expect to have in new york, especially attending the events of the social season.

“Just cross your fingers it doesn’t turn into a shitshow, Ada”

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The rattle of the carriage’s wheels on the cobblestone streets did nothing to help the unease in Billy’s stomach as they headed to Ash’s house in a side of New York drastically unlike the one he used to be familiar with. Is this really a good idea?

"Billy, while the people here can be greay gossips, they probably won’t think too deeply. As long as you keep a low profile and not cause any trouble, you should be fine. In due time you can return south," reassured Ash

“I couldn’t be more grateful Ash, really. It’s just going to be real hard to lie about everything.”

The carriage came to a sudden stop infront of a tall brownstone that matched all the ones next to it, creating a cookie-cutter row of houses that ran down the street until the eye could see. Finely dressed people walked down the sidewalks, conversing or walking their dogs, seeing and being seen under the spring sun. Billy stepped out of the carriage with Ash, giving a grateful nod to the driver and going up the steps behind his host. The door was opened by a maid inside, who greeted Ash with a smile, and as he and Billy walked in there was a rumble heard on the stairs as three young girls stormed down and an older woman walked behind them.

“Ash!” exclaimed one of the girls, her face lighting up as she rushed to greet him, followed by the older woman billy assumed was his mother. The other two girls stayed on the staircase, offering ash a polite greeting and peering curiously at Billy. You particularly, wearing a soft cornflower blue dress with your hair pinned up caught his eye, but he knew it was rude to stare so he quickly bright his gaze back to his host.

“Everyone, this is my friend William Henry from Colorado. Billy this is my mother Helena, my sister Ada and her friends”

“Pleasure to meet you ladies, and thank you Mrs. Upson for allowin’ me to stay in your house for some time. I hope it’s not too much of a bother.” As he said this, Billy finally had the chance to take a look at you, his stomach flipping but now for a good reason. His gaze lingered momentarily, trying to piece together the intrigue you caused -- you were beautiful, undoubtedly so but there was lightness and grace about you that captivated him. You smiled softly and nodded as a greeting, and he couldn’t help but notice the lightly flustered blush of your cheeks or the small hairs fallen from your updo that framed your face and neck.

Mrs. Upson snapped him back to reality. “It is absolutely no trouble, Mr. Henry. Hattie will see to your belongings, but for now you can join the girls and I for tea if you’d like.”

Everybody moved to the terrace once more, Ash being whisked away by Ada to catch up, leaving Billy to sit with Mrs Upson, Josephine, and you.

When Billy had stepped through the front door of the Upson’s house, your breath left you for a moment. He was very much a cowboy, slightly rugged and stoic but a gentle demeanor about the way he carried himself that brought your breath back to your lungs. He towered over you just the right amount and his shoulders, which he carried with a humble confidence, were (weirdly) attractively wide. Josie was also right about something— Ash’s guest was absolutely handsome.

“So your father is a rancher, Billy?” Asks Josephine, sitting next to you and nudging you slightly, making you pay attention to the cowboy sitting before you. Josie’s bluntness made you blush, elbowing her and shooting her a warning glance. “I apologize, if you don’t mind us calling you Billy.”

“I don’t mind that at all, I quite prefer it actually.” He swallowed before continuing, a strain in his face that piqued your curiosity. “And yes, my father owns a few ranches along the Arkansas river.”

“How wonderful, must be a beautiful sight.” you mention absentmindedly, picturing the mountains and the rolling hills that you imagine as his home. A small smile breaking his face snaps you back into the moment and it makes your stomach warm and cracks a smile out of you too.

“It is, really. Y’all should visit sometime, it’s beautiful around this time of year.”

“That’s quite a nice idea, William we would love to see your father’s ranches.” remarked Mrs. Upson, “I know you must be tired from your travels, but will you be joining us at the soiree tonight?”

“I’d love to Mrs Upson, what’s the occasion?”

“The girl’s debut this season! It’s just something small with some family friends before the ball tomorrow.”

Billy was visibly confused, “Debut?”

“It’s a ball where the girls get paraded around in white dresses like cattle so they can get married off” interjects Ash, joining them. “Frankly it’s degrading, but it’s tradition.”

Your stomach churned. Degrading is the perfect word to describe it. You were not looking forward to the next few months of insipid suitors and the prospect of a proposal. It’s not like you were completely opposed to a proposal, but this culling process was not the way you wanted to approach it. Yet, as Ash said, it’s tradition.

“Sounds…grueling” Billy admits.

“Absolutely. The balls are quite fun though.” says Josie.

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Later that night, the Upson household was bustling with people laughing, drinks pouring, and conversation buzzing with excitement about the upcoming season. Poor billy looked like a fish out of water, dressed in one of Ash’s suits that he was visibly unnaccustomed to using. You looked at the interactions from afar, Billy charming but clearly feeling uncomfortable, as you could see with the tension in his sharp jaw. Josie, a little bit tipsy, comes up to you and leans in with a giggle.

“Have you noticed he’s been staring at you all night?” she whispers.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks and you try to hold back a smile “And what would make you say such a wild thing, josie? Is it the champagne?”

Josie placed her hand on her chest in fake offense “Gah! You offend me darling”

“What’d she do now, Jo?” Ada, also a few drinks in accuses cheekily.

“She doesn’t believe that she is the most stunning girl in the room and that Mr Cowboy here has been stealing a few glances.”

“Oh Josie is right, you’ve been the only one he’s looked at.”

You noticed that he had excused himself from the conversation across the room and headed to the drinks table where the three of you were located, a soft smile greeting you and making your heart flutter. You realized then and there that it was impossible to get tired of his deep, kind blue eyes.

“How’s the night treating you, Billy?” asks Josie. Billy lets out a small laugh and glances at you and Ada.

“She needs to start findin’ her way home don’t she?”

Josie scowls, and you and Ada are laughing at your friend’s cheeky behavior “Gosh, you’re no fun! I’m just getting started, Billy boy.”

“Oh she is, Billy. She always has a few too many glasses of champagne but she’s great fun” you say with a smile. You both meet eyes for a moment and you drop it after a second, a bashful blush painting your cheeks.

“All three of y’all seem like great fun, champagne or not. I’m lookin’ forward to my stay here.” he admits. Billy gives you a smile too, picking the eye contact back up and going to say something before Ada interrupts.

“We should cheers to that then!” she says, serving each one a glass of champagne and handing it to them. “To Billy’s fruitful stay in New York!”

You all clink your glasses together and you down yours mostly in a few sips.

“Josie, you should go play some music!” squeals Ada, grabbing Josie, who is also downing her glass and pulls her towards the piano at the other side of the room.

You and billy share a laugh at the antics of your friends, and you go to serve some more champagne for the two of you. The bubbly buzz of the champagne was getting to your head a little and you faltered a few drops onto your dress.

As you served some into Billy’s glass, you couldn’t stop yourself from commenting—“Your accent slips out a little more when you’re drinkin’ Billy.” you noticed. It was cute though, your time in Texas had made you fond of a southern drawl.

“Does it really? You’ve kinda got one too.” he points out with a laugh, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Do I? It’s probably the champagne, I apologize.” you laugh, a light smile covered by a laced hand spreads on your face and you look up at him. “I haven’t been down south in forever, I thought it’d gone away”

“You’ve been?” he asks furrowing his brow in question and developing a curious smile. He quickly dismissed the thought of how much he loved the way your eyes looked from below him. “Didn’t take you for a southern girl.”

You let out a shy laugh and looked down, “I am, grew up in Texas and moved here with my mother and sister when I was eleven. My father’s still down there. He’s got an oil field in the Panhandle and takes care of a few ranches in the prairie near Dallas.”

Billy nodded, slightly surprised but still, extremely curious and amused by your personal history. He’d wondered whether he’d seen the same prairies as you had growing up, fallen in love with the same nature.

“Well darlin’ I’m quite surprised,” his stomach churned at his lie— “My father’s ranches run along Colorado but I’ve been to Texas quite a few times and I can’t wait to go back.”

“Me neither,” you confess, staring wistfully at your cup. “My father comes up every once in a while but I haven’t been since I was fifteen.”

“I’d happily take you in as a guest if it’ll take that downhearted look off your face.” he said softly, taking your chin in his hand and bringing you to look at him with the most tender gesture, giving you the most comforting smile. All of this made your heart flip and your chest tighten the lightest bit in fear. You’d had one or two callers before that had caught your heart, but whatever Billy did to you was different. Speaking to him felt familiar and the slightly calloused feel of his hand on you was a commiserative connection back to the wild girl you had once been. Being in New York tamed you, but he had a look that took you right back home.

You couldn’t. With a polite smile, you leaned out of his touch after a few moments and tried to will the blush off your cheeks.

“I’d much like that Mr. Henry, I appreciate the invitation.” He nonned curtly in response, a little confused at your sudden distance. “I should catch up with my friends. Enjoy your evening.”

You walked away, your heart almost beating out of your ribcage as you made a beeline to your friends. Looking around discreetly to see if anyone had noticed your interaction with billy, you caught the curious eye of your sister and her fiance, giving them a dismissive stare and catching up to josie and ada, who were sitting at the piano.

The rest of the night you stuck to your friends, the drinks pouring and the conversation flowing through the bustle of people in the salon. As you stepped through the balcony doors to take a breath, remembering the feeling of billy’s touch and the way he made you feel, your sister followed you through. It was pathetic how he had affected you so much with a single touch.

Your sister, accompanied by her fiance Theo, stared at you teasingly.

“And what was that with Ash's friend?” She asks, “I know you have a thing for cowboys.”

With a rush of blood to your face once more, you dismissed her with a gesture of your hand.

“Stop it Clemmie, you know that stupid crush was forever ago, and there is nothing going on with Mr. Henry.”

“He looks awfully familiar, somehow.” Theo comments. “Feels like I’ve seen him before”

“Theo, my love, you know I adore you but just because we went back home last summer doesn’t mean you know everyone in the South.” Your sister says, giving her fiance a teasing tap on his cheek. “Well, from what i’ve heard through the grapevine he is truly an uncut gem so I say go for it”

You blush, impossibly even more, at her comment. “Shut it Clemmie, my debut is tomorrow and I cannot have you putting stupid things in my head.”

“But he’s quite darling isn’t he?”

Hesitating, you sighed, staring wistfully at the man inside, speaking with Ash and somehow stirring your heart from afar, “I won’t deny that.”

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a/n: HEY GUYS WELCOME so happy to be putting this out omg i've been working on this for forever i hope you enjoy :) part 2 is in the works but in the meantime if you have any ideas for any tom characters lmk jijiji i am very much taking requests (and look at my masterlist so you can see who else i write for !!)

[slutforsnow]

Health and Hell

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A/N: Genuinely love how much attention these are getting ty and ily everyone 😭🫶🏼 reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated but not required🫶🏼 (please gimme some fanfic title suggestions in the asks or inbox!/nf)

Summary//Joseph and Violet bonding before his diagnosis & death (I haven't hit episode 4 yet cause I keep rewatching Billy calling out Henry for stealing from Kathleen im sorry 😭)

Cw// foreshadowing Joseph's death, Billy being his own warning again, Billy being emotionally not there, talk of death, whore mention

Billy stood by Mr. Upson, waiting for Violet. He had asked her yesterday to stop by and watch over Joseph while his ma worked, and he was at the ranch until he could get the doctor to come look at him about his nasty cough. He trusted Violet more than anyone, aside from his ma, to look after Joe and considering Antrim was nowhere to be found, he knew that Violet would be a better choice.

"Good mornin' sir, mornin' Billy," came her voice, and Billy looked up. He looked puzzled to see her in a dress. Her bright red hair was in a braid, which was in some kind of bun, and being held together by a dark pastel green ribbon. Her hair and eyes were complimented by her different shades of pastel green dress, which made her look quite beautiful.

"Mornin', Violet," He greeted, turning to her and taking off his hat in respect towards her. "Mr. Upson, this is Violet Evans. Violet, this is Mr. Ash Upson—he's takin' me to a rancher, Billy Matthews, to see about a job."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Upson," Violet replied, smilin politely to him as she shook his hand after he took off his hat in respect to her as well.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Evans," Upson said with a gentle smile.

Billy smiled faintly at the two before leading Violet to meet Kathleen. He found her getting her shoes on and smiled a little more; seeing his ma always made him smile no matter the consequences.

"Ma, this is Violet—she's gonna watch over Joe til we can get the doctor," He said when she looked up.

Violet smiled and waved to Kathleen. "Hi, ma'am."

"Oh, why hello, Violet. I thought you weren't coming until later, but thank you so much for acceptin' to look after Joseph," Kathleen said with a gentle yet worrisome smile. She didn't want to feel like she was putting pressure on a girl that she barely knew.

"I'm just happy to help," Violet reassured with a gentle nod as the two led her upstairs to Billy and Joseph's room.

The harsh hacking and coughing almost brought tears to Violet's eyes. She hated seeing little kids sick—it made her heart hurt because no kid should deserve to suffer to painfully. Violet grimaced a little, remembering how she lost one of her friends to consumption (she was also whores but that wasn't what killed her).

"Hey, Joe."

The sudden appearance of Billy's voice, sound soft and comforting, snapped Violet out of her memory of her friend. She watched from the threshold as Billy told Joseph about Violet and he soon gestured for her to come in.

She walked into the room, sitting in the now empty chair.

Billy and Kathleen left the pair to head off to work and the ranch, leaving them in complete silence.

"Hey, Joseph," Violet greeted softly, brushing some of his dark hair from his face. Her tone was much calmer and collected compared to how she spoke the day before—it wasn't rough and tough. It was gentle and ladylike.

"Hi, Ms. Evans..." The young boy responded before falling into a series of hacking coughs once more. Violet wanted to hold this poor boy and hug him tightly. He was too sweet, too young.

"No need to call me Ms. Evans, buddy. You can just call me Violet," She commented, putting the wet rang, which she had seen on the tin tub on the dresser, on his forehead to hopefully help with his fever.

After a few moments if silence, Joseph spoke up.

"Billy would like you as his girl. Real pretty lookin'; you look real tough too," He murmured, earning a soft giggle from the older woman.

"What makes you say that I'm tough?" She inquired, smiling a bit*

"Those cuts along your nose, Vi. Only a real tough girl would have her scars out in the open."

Violet's smile faded for a moment. She forgot to hide her scars.

"Oh- why thank you, Joe." Her voice was still gentle and soft, not wanting to make him think he made her angry or upset.

As the hours went on, the two had grown close. Joseph was telling her about stories of his life with Billy and Kathleen. She was telling him tales of how she'd grown up in Silver City, aside from her trauma, and how she'd sometimes dress as a boy to play poker and help Jesse with work instead of waiting for some marriage proposal from some sleazy guy.

Joe was having more fun talking with Violet than he'd ever had since his family left New York. He felt happy, even with his awful coughs and occasional vomiting.

[tetw]

10 Great Articles about the Apocalypse

Asteroids! Solar Storms! Nukes! Climate Calamity! Killer Robots! by Joel Achenbach - A guide to contemporary doomsday scenarios — from the threats you know about to the ones you never think of

Here Comes the Sun—to End Civilization by Matt Ribel - Every so often, our star fires off a plasma bomb in a random direction. Our best hope the next time Earth is in the crosshairs? Capacitors.

How Soon Might the Atlantic Ocean Break? by Sandra Upson - A gigantic, weather-defining current system could be headed to collapse.

How to Survive a Killer Asteroid by Cody Cassidy - The impact that wiped out the dinosaurs would probably have killed you too—unless you were in the exact right place and had made the exact right plans

Among the A.I. Doomsayers by Andrew Marantz - Some people think machine intelligence will transform humanity for the better. Others fear it may destroy us. Who will decide our fate?

Nuclear War is Unlikely to Cause Human Extinction by Landfish - A number of people have claimed that a full-scale nuclear war is likely to cause human extinction. I have investigated this issue in depth and concluded that even a full scale nuclear exchange is unlikely (<1%) to cause human extinction…

The Secrets of Supervolcanoes by Ilya N. Bindeman - Microscopic crystals of volcanic ash are revealing surprising clues about the world’s most devastating eruptions

The Really Big One by Kathryn Schulz - An earthquake will destroy a sizable portion of the coastal Northwest. The question is when

Omens by Ross Andersen - When we peer into the fog of the deep future what do we see – human extinction or a future among the stars?

Is Humanity Suicidal? by Edward O. Wilson - Are we racing to the brink of an abyss, or are we just gathering speed for a take off to a wonderful future?

Dispatches from the Ruins by Frank Bures - The human world has become bafflingly complex and strangely fragile making apocalypse the easiest thing to imagine

[amaryllisenvy]

The Ties That Bind

Part Two

Billy the Kid x OC

WARNINGS: if you are comfortable with watching the tv show, you should be okay with this entire book. I will definitely try to put more graphic trigger warnings for any extreme scenes!

Part two has mentions of blood, violence, and is a slow-burn. Please let me know how you guys feel so far!

Part 2:

November 8th, 1876

The mirror was covered in dry water marks and was obscured so that her features were difficult to entirely make out in great detail. But it was her. The face she had lived her whole life with framed her brown eyes as she looked at herself. 

The exhaustion in her was evident, but she still had her job to do. The world revolves around the money she can or cannot make. As such, Yllis made it her priority to focus on the next step and not what her eyes had seen. The faint scar on her neck had taught her that.

She stared back at herself as the clock ticked faintly in the quiet. The ticks were timed perfectly to the beat of her pulse fluttering in her neck. She gritted her teeth. 

Only seconds had ticked by but in her mind, she relived her first memory of being able to peer at herself. Her father had come back from his work on the trail months later and gifted her with a looking glass as the lid to a compass. It was no larger than her pocket and the weight of it sat around her neck, hanging from a chain so that everywhere she went, it would accompany her.

Tick, tick, tick.

Before Sunrise, November 9th, 1876

Stirring, Yllis miraculously awoke in the early hours of the morning. Before she even cracked her eyes open, the unbearable throbbing pain in her shoulder had her opening her mouth in agony. No sound left her but a shaky exhale as she refrained from crying out

She woke to find herself in one of the rooms available at the inn. The accommodations were less than incredible, but she was able to rest. 

She remembered nothing. The only thing she could recall from the night before was her staring at herself in the mirror of the saloon bathroom. 

What happened? How did she get back to her room?

Before she even opened her eyes, she smelled the rain that had fallen the night before. It was one of her favorite smells. She loved how the rain could wash away imperfections, leaving only the clean smell and the dampness in the air that followed. Her window was always open as she couldn’t stand the air of the inn that became stale with how little airflow it got.

Her eyes shot open to immediately find the darkened sky backlit by the earliest hours of dawn. The deep blue blended into the bright pink and yellow of the sunrise. Her skin that had been exposed to the room air was cold.

Contrarily, her right shoulder was on fire. She let out a whimper with the wince she gave when she moved the blankets to look at what was causing her so much pain. She revealed the makeshift bandage completely stained through with her blood. The cloth meant to staunch the bleeding was not nearly tight enough.

With a silent cry, she sat herself up in bed with a great deal of effort. Every movement left her in torturous pain. The fingers of her right hand tingled and were swollen because of her injury. 

Christ.

She swore under her breath. Shuffling in the chair beside her bed alerted her to someone else’s presence in the room, and the pain ebbed away as adrenaline coursed through her instead.

Her gaze landed on Ash Upson, asleep in the chair. His brow was creased with worry, even in his dreams, and she hoped he hadn’t been so worried about her to neglect himself. 

Mr. Upson was one of the best men Yllis had the pleasure of knowing. His heart was always with those who needed it and he was wealthy in compassion. No doubt, the terrible bandaging was his handiwork. Mr. Upson was more of a scholar than a mender. 

She started to clear her throat when she took in just how exhausted he seemed. He would be furious if he woke before she could get back.

Inevitably, this led to her quickly dressing in her loosest and warmest gown before she left the inn. She needed to stitch her wound that still actively bled. Too much trauma had left her blood incapable of clotting the massive wound adequately enough. 

Her head swam and she felt woozy still as she walked through the silent streets. She was familiar enough with the town they were passing through to know where to find the healer. The lightheadedness she felt was pushed to the side for now.

How much blood had she lost? 

What the fuck happened?

Her early and unpleasant walk brought her to the rear entrance of the town's clinic. Frustration creased her face as she found the door locked, but her gaze quickly landed on an open window barely five feet away.

Couldn’t they just have left the door unlocked?

It was hard for her to shimmy her way through the window. She was a small girl, but any pressure or weight resulted in so much pain. 

Having had the briefest role in mending the men injured in war, she worked closer with Doctor John when she arrived in New Mexico. He was a nice enough man but she questioned his methods and his skills. John Witteveen was talented for sure. However, confident men were susceptible to overlooking important details.

What broke her “apprenticeship” (as if women could ever be allowed to be doctors) with the man was the way he would never listen to suggestions. Sometimes, she couldn’t stand the men she was surrounded by under sheer circumstance.

She searched through the supplies until she found a curved needle and a spool of silk. Gathering gauze and ointment, she searched every cabinet before concluding that there was no phenol. The pain in her shoulder throbbed again and she gave up her hunt. 

John Witteveen slept upstairs with whatever woman he paid for the night. The building he occupied had seven extra rooms, nothing special. Those with injuries so severe often stayed the night for critical care. The silence in the building left her wondering if she was the only one there.

Drumming her fingers on the counter, she loosed a breath as she opened a drawer at the bottom of the kitchen cabinet. There she knew she would find his vast collection of spirits. With a grimace, she decided on the honey whiskey and took it from the drawer, placing it in front of her.

Swearing under her breath, she winced and stifled her cry as she pulled her dress over her head, leaving her only in her thin chemise. She frowned as the cream fabric was stained with her blood. 

Sitting herself on the counter, she removed the bandages that stuck to her wound. Peeling off the covering took the clot that plugged her wound with it and she inhaled sharply between her teeth and screwed her eyes shut at the resulting feeling in her arm. It felt like she peeled her skin off and her eyes watered. Taking a minute, Yllis focused on breathing through the agony.

After a moment, her hand shook as she unscrewed the top of the bottle. She felt like she was going to throw up every time her body went rigid with the pain. Her head ached and the pulse she felt through her wound was thready and slower than normal. She noticed that the pulses she felt in her wound were synchronous with the pounding in her head and was relieved.

Gritting her teeth to the point she was surprised they didn’t shatter under the pressure, she lifted the bottle to her wound. Nothing could have prepared her for the burn of the alcohol in her wound. 

Unable to suppress the cry that escaped her lips, she almost dropped the bottle as she lurched away instinctively. Her breaths were guttural and purely animal as they came out as more of a growl. 

It took her what must have been several minutes to regain enough consciousness to fill the bowl with the whiskey and soak the cloth in it. 

The hardest part was threading the needle while her body was shaking uncontrollably. Next time, she would be sure to thread it before she started the agonizing procedure.

It was against nature to not shy away from the pain. Her body was begging her to stop. She knew that if she didn’t finish caring for her wound, she would most likely lose her arm. Worse, she knew how quickly infection could claim her life. 

The sky outside was the brightest yellow as the sun rose above the hulking mountains and shone on the valley between them. The light was the beginning of the day for those who resided in the town. People would be awake soon enough.

Everything was shaking. Her breaths were staggered and her eyes were watering. Regardless, she managed to thread her needle. When she first pushed the sharp point through her skin, she almost felt nothing. Until she felt every-fucking-thing.

Her whole body felt as though it was on fire as she worked on the part of the wound in the front of her body. Stitching herself was no easy task. It was against human nature to willingly cause oneself so much harm and she had to fight every instinct in her to stop. To pass out. To scream in anguish.

Continuing like that for a while, she repeated the process of sewing her skin back together. Between threadings, she would take the smallest of breaks to just breathe and calm her trembling limbs. She needed the stitches to work.

“It’s you.” 

Yllis jumped out of her skin.

She leapt from the counter and turned in an instant to the boy who stood in the doorway. She was clumsy at her best and winced when she twisted her ankle. 

“Shit.” Yllis stumbled and caught herself from face-planting into the edge of the counter. After her lousy attempt at self-preservation hurt her shoulder more, she made herself simply stand still. 

Jesus. 

Any weight she placed on her ankle added to the wealth of torture beneath her skin. Her eyes shakily flicked up to the boy who had been in the doorway watching her. What she didn’t expect were his hands steadying her at her waist as her knees shook. Being in such agony made the weakness and trembling uncontrollable.

How did he get to her so quickly? 

Looking down at herself, she acknowledged how much of a mess she must have looked. Never mind the impropriety of this man seeing her in only her chemise. Her very thin chemise.

“You are the lady who stood in front of and saved my best friend from a bullet intended for him.” The low scratch of his voice fluttered in her ears as she took in the sensation of being supported in the man’s arms. She was shot? Her brows were furrowed until she met his eyes and stilled.

His eyes.

Like two aquamarine gemstones, his gaze felt valuable. To have such striking eyes dart across her skin, her body, had to be an honor. Watching him had an itch forming in the back of her mind.

Those eyes.

And then, she remembered the night before. Like a bookmark, her mind flitted to the very last page -to the exact moment- she had last held the attention of such stunning eyes.

She hid her realization well. “You give me too much credit, sir. I was simply in the wrong place at the right time.” 

Feeling unable to breathe, she extracted herself from him and picked up the needle hanging from her skin. Biting the string, she pulled it taut before cutting it with her dagger. It was far from her best sutures and she couldn’t help but wonder if he thought the same as he stood with his hands on her hips, ensuring that he could catch her if her knees gave out. Maybe it seemed dramatic, but the dizziness she felt meant that his support was much needed.

She wrung the towel out so it was damp and placed the alcohol-soaked bandage over her sutures. She couldn’t help the sharp exhale of breath this time. 

“What are you doing?” The young man spoke with alarm as his hand moved to stop her from causing herself so much pain.

“Infection. Alcohol is all he had left.” Her breath came out shallow and broken.  

He studied her intensely, his eyes bore into hers in the silence for what felt like years before he gently took the cloth from her fingers. 

“Let me.” Taking the bottle of whiskey, he poured a healthy dose over his hands and scrubbed at them. 

She hesitated for a moment and bit her lip. 

Smart man.

“The bullet seems like it went straight through. While you did beautiful work, I don’t think it’ll be so easy to repeat it on your own back. Let me.”

He was right. Yllis hated to shirk her responsibilities, but she wasn’t so prideful to deny the truth. “Do you know how to suture a wound?”

“No idea.” His lips slipped into the slightest grin that slowly crept onto his face as he stared at her. Involuntarily, it made her lips part as she exhaled deeply.

Another moment passed and she just took him in. His shaggy curly hair flopped into his eyes and she stretched up to move it from his eyes. The motion hurt, but not enough to stop her. Releasing an unsteady breath, Yllis turned and pressed her hands against the counter, grounding herself. 

“I don’t have a choice. Whatever you manage to do is better than what it was.” She stilled when she felt his calloused fingers slide the strap of her chemise over her shoulder to allow him to see the wound. 

His fingers brushing away the baby hairs on the base of her scalp made her want to squirm.

“More importantly, you’re right. It’ll be better than what I can manage to do by myself.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she watched him take the needle from the bowl of alcohol and thread it easily from the corner of her eye.

“What happened last night?” 

The pause in his actions when the words left her lips created a silence in the room that was filled by the touch of his hand on her upper back. “Bastard shot you both for losin’ in a goddamn poker game.”

Nodding, she was glad that her lack of recollection from the night before could be justified by her injuries. Thank god, she thought as she could confirm she wasn’t just sundowning.

“M’sorry. I know I don’t have to tell you how this will hurt.”

“Just need it over with. Please.” She was not above begging. “Pour the alcohol over the wound first.” 

The boy followed instructions well and she gasped out an involuntary whimper against the counter when he speedily poured the liquor over her shoulder. She had to hold on to the edges of the surface tightly to stop herself from jerking away.

Pressing her forehead to the counter, the coolness felt good against her flushed face and contrasted with the fire that felt like she was being set alight like a pyre.

When the needle pierced her flesh, she bit her forearm to stifle her cries. The process felt long and gruesome, and she would never feel as relieved as she did when he picked up the scissors and cut the string. 

“What’s next?” His voice was softer and kind, the hand he placed on her lower back as she breathed in and out heavily was the same. 

He looked so apologetic when he saw her watery eyes that she knew she didn’t need to keep her hand around the hilt of her dagger with this boy.

It took her a moment before she could muster an answer. 

“I can do the rest by myself. The worst and hardest part is over.” She turned and smiled widely at him, although both of them knew how feigned her ease was in an attempt to assuage him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Studying his face, she watched as he glanced down to the floor and avoided her stare, only for a moment. He must have found the confidence he had briefly lost because his eyes snapped determinedly back to hers. His grateful smile lit up the kitchen and she decided that, out of all the misery in the world, his grin could never be affected by any of it. It was too pure and sincere that evil couldn’t come close to ever living under his skin.

“‘Course you can do it yourself.” he picked up the salve-covered cloth. “But you don’t need to. I’m here.”

Amaryllis felt so at ease and her stomach fluttered before she did as he instructed. The stretch of her swollen skin smarted as he covered her back in the soothing salve. The relief was marginal but instantaneous as the cooling and numbing properties eased some of the burning heat.

When she felt him pull away from her back and reach for the other cloth that would be used on her front, she slowly turned to face him again.

She watched as his brows furrowed. “The one on your back is a lot worse.”

“Exit wounds are typically a lot more traumatizing to skin tissue.”

At her explanation, he locked his eyes onto hers again. “Well, shit. Are you sure ‘bout not lettin’ Doc check it out for himself?”

Her lips turned upward. “He isn’t going to do anything that you didn’t already do.”

At this, he nodded and focused on the area below her collarbone. His eyes had been mesmerizing before, but having them focused on her skin was enough to stop her heart. 

“Can you-” he loosed a breath and pulled away, cutting himself off.

Now it was her turn to furrow her eyebrows at him. 

He saw her confused expression and explained further, “Just that you are a lil’ too short.”

“Sorry?” her mouth fell open in mock offense. “You’re just repulsively too tall.”

At this, he laughed. It was a chuckle that was little more than him exhaling, but felt revolutionary. Yllis subconsciously decided that she liked that sound. She liked it very much indeed. If she got a chance, she would make him do it more often.

She didn’t realize his intentions until those repulsively large hands of his were on her waist and he was lifting her easily on top of the countertop. “There. That should do it.”

Resuming his charge, he smoothed more salve onto her wound and she sighed. At the slight relief it brought, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Many problems could be fixed by just taking a second to get your thoughts in order. Being too quick to act often makes one reckless.

“How do I. . .” his voice trailed off as he held up the long length of cloth that would cover her wounds.

“There really ain’t anything to it. Just try and place the bandage tight so the pressure is on the wound.”

He worked quickly, wrapping her shoulder, bringing the cloth around and around like she was being mummified. It was like he had done this a thousand times as he brought the cloth around her other shoulder to help keep it in place. When he was satisfied, he snipped the long cloth and tied the two ends together in a knot. 

“Incredible work. You’re a natural.” Yllis was being sincere.

Medicine was not an easy thing for most people, but he had the care it took to thoroughly assess a situation. He wasn’t overconfident in himself. She could tell he paid great attention to minute details.

“You did it all, I just followed orders.” Yllis noticed that when he smirked, there were deep dimples on both sides of his face. 

“And how good you are at following them. Maybe I’ll take you home after all.” She patted his cheek like he was a well-behaved mutt she found on the streets.

He looked so amused at the action that a smile showing his teeth nearly broke free.

On the counter, the young man stood off to the side of her when he had worked the salve onto her shoulder. When he applied the final bandage, maybe he didn’t even notice that he had stepped between her thighs. He was so close to her that Yllis couldn’t ever recall being this close to anyone. She decided that he probably hadn’t done it intentionally because it just felt so. . . natural to be that close to him.

She hadn’t been kidding. Even on the counter, he towered above her like a mountain. Neither made any move to change this. Her smile melted away and she reached up, brushing the curly and unruly hair that fell into his eyes away once more.

“Well, if I am bringing you home with me,” she questioned, receiving a glint of amusement in his ocean eyes. “What should I call you?”

“Billy. It’s Billy Antram, ma’am.” 

In her peripheral vision, she saw him lift his hand into the space between them in an offering. She took it in hers and made the motion for a handshake. When their hands touched, she didn’t expect it when he lifted her knuckles to his lips. The masculine gesture of respect. 

Her mind briefly recalled how he had greeted her at the table not even twelve hours before. 

Billy Antram was a gentleman.

“Amaryllis Delphie Alteo. If that’s too much, people closer to me call me Yllis.”

A pause; it seemed like he was taking time to try the words on his own tongue.

“You saved my best friend’s life. There is nothin’ I can ever do to make us even. It seems like I’m forever in your debt, Amaryllis.” 

“He lived?” The shock in her voice must have been palpable. ”The bullet would have still hit him after going through me.”

God, she thought. He was alive. 

“It doesn’t seem possible,” his head bent imperceptively closer to hers. “It wouldn’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for you.”

Uncharacteristically, she broke their eye contact first and looked down at herself. His stare was so intense and felt like it could peel back her skin and look inside. 

Realizing her current attire, or lack thereof, heat rose to her cheeks. Doing the opposite, her reaction spurred his eyes to trail over her. Those eyes traced every inch of her. He was close enough to almost feel him physically, too. The way he studied her, she hoped that he couldn’t see what she was thinking of.

“Do you want to see him?” his voice was barely above a whisper.

She didn’t need to ask who. A smile graced her face. “Yes.”

Her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever made him dominate her space and he awkwardly cleared his throat. Taking a long step back, she missed his proximity instantly and looked away, searching for where she had discarded her dress in her panicked haste to stop the bleeding.

Noticing her thoughts he bent down and picked it up from the floor before finding how it would go on her body. It wasn’t difficult, considering the blood stain that soaked it would be on her right side. 

Stupidly she took the dress and went to pull it over her head before she remembered her injury. It reminded her with the sudden train of agony that crashed into her and she whimpered. 

“Let me.” 

Her nightdress luckily didn’t have sleeves, but Billy took extra care when he stuck his large hand down the sleeve and softly took hers into his, feeding her injured arm through the hole. 

When both of her arms and her head were through, he slid his hands down to her hips. “Ready?”

His brow had cocked in question and she just stared at him.

Christ’s cross, he was beautiful.

After accidentally gawking at him again, she nodded and he slowly picked her up and placed her feet on the tiles once more. The ache in her ankle had eased slightly and was bearable, but the dizziness returned with a vengeance and she nearly stumbled. As was a theme of the night, Billy took her good hand into his so she could place some of her weight on him, the other rested on her waist to steady her, and he slowly let her walk to where his friend was.

[lucygraysboy]

“you do? i thought you had plenty of friends.” billy’s features soften all at once, a small albeit genuine smile blooming on his lips as a wave of warmth washes over his chest. it feels good to be understood, to have someone who won’t judge him too harshly and instead will listen to his story with an open heart. it gives him hope that maybe not all’s lost yet, maybe there’s still a chance for them to save this special bond that’s only just begun to bud.

“alright so… back to the story of my life,” he chuckles faintly, trying to pick up where he’s left off, “the thought of spending three years in jail for breaking into a laundromat where no one got hurt and nothing got stolen, it sounded like an eternity to me. i’d never done anything wrong before, no previous offenses, no fights, nothing. but the judge that sentenced me was corrupt and after someone else, another man that he couldn’t get his grimy hands on, ash upson. he’s a journalist. a good man who wanted to bring down the santa fe ring. they’re a bunch of powerful, corrupt, violent racists. but it’s a story for another time.” santa fe. ash upson. carlos. he shivers at the mere thought of his childhood best friend and how he’d died, but quickly blinks away the tears. “so, yeah, i got three years. they would have killed me in that jail cell, lucy gray. it was bound to happen, just a matter of time. they would have found a way. i had to escape.” that explains part of the second crime listed on the poster — jail break. he’s done that twice now. “so i faked my own suicide, gathered the sheets off the bed, tied them together and hung myself. i mean, pretended to hang myself. if there’s something you should know about me, i’m a pretty good actor,” he adds to lighten the mood a bit, wishing he could at least squeeze her hand to reassure her that he’s not all bad. “i knew the guard would come when he heard the noise and took him unawares. i stole his gun and keys and horse and ran. i was so terrified, you have no idea, but didn’t look back. so, that’s another crime they want me to answer for.”

“yeah,” she softly agrees, “i understand that, too.” brows gently knitting, feeling sad for him because she did understand what it felt like to want a friend. it opened her up to a whole new side of sympathy she held for him as doe eyes became like melted chocolate, warm and sweet. even if she had to keep reminding herself she still doesn’t know the rest. she knows there’s more, which is why the brunette waits to see if he’s going to run with the opportunity to go back to lying or continue to tell her the truth.

feels like she’s holding her breath until his next response comes. it relieves her, feeling like a ton of bricks has lifted off her shoulders. putting some type of faith into him for his decision to keep being honest with her. “what’s a few more minutes? you can just tell me then we’ll go.” it wasn’t just because she was hesitant about trusting what he’ll do if she unties him even if he’ll probably think that now, but because her mind was eager to know the answer now. she didn’t want to break when she was anticipating it too much, because it would determine a lot. and she also just can’t imagine how he’s someone who murders people— sitting and waiting anxiously as her hands curl and uncurl in her lap.

[phantasmicfish]

I’ve seen Ash Upson for point two seconds and I already ship them:

[luanzuchi]

#sketchember 5/30 #PatGarrett Patrick Floyd J. Garrett, conhecido por Pat Garrett foi um caçador, agente alfandegário e xerife da cidade de Lincoln e de Doña Anano Novo México. Ficou muito famoso, por ter sido quem matou o lendário fora-da-lei, Billy The Kid. Em 1881 colaborou com M.A. "Ash" Upson na obra sensacionalista "The Authentic Life of Billy The Kid" que ajudou a popularizar muitas lendas infundadas sobre o fora-da-lei. #faroeste #sketchtember #western #velhooeste #bangbang #sketch #sketchbook #desenho #draw #pencil #blackandwhite #lapis #comics #historiaemquadrinhos #quadrinhos #HQ #bandadesenhada #BD #retrato #portrait #wip https://www.instagram.com/p/BnWHNnHFkm0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=bxejdzbgw1oo

[pilotpress-blog]

Not here is here!

Not here, a queer anthology of loneliness has been launched. Featuring contributions by:

Nick Blackburn, Robert Chevara, Philip Cornett, Richard Dodwell, Jez Dolan, Harry Freegard, Alice Goodman, David Hoyle, Paul Hughes, Marc Hundley, La John Joseph, Luke Kelsey, Ash Kotak, Olivia Laing, Jeremy Atherton Lin, Colby Keller / Donald Lynskey, Keguro Macharia, Mary Manning, Bertie Marshall, Neil McNally, Monique Mouton, Charlie Porter, Heretik Radikal, Holly Revell, Tim Spooner, Verity Spott, Mimei Thompson, Timothy Thornton, Urara Tsuchiya, Toby Upson and Eley Williams

If you would like to purchase one, or support the ongoing work of Pilot Press, please do so via the link, or by emailing Rich at rich.dodwell@gmail.com.

Thank you. 

✈

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=YA8QH5G5EHXTU

[rosemaryja-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[elizabethsta-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[senkyosakki-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[marthazimmerma-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[vanessaarm-blog1]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[amaryllisenvy]

The Ties That Bind

Part Four Billy the Kid x OC WARNINGS: if you are comfortable with watching the tv show, you should be okay with this entire book. I will definitely try to put more graphic trigger warnings for any extreme scenes! Has mentions of blood, violence, and is a slow-burn once again with a bit more romance.

Part 4:

November 9th, 1876

As he walked her to where she was staying, of which she initially rejected, they talked about the town as they ventured through it. 

There was no shot that he’d let her walk by herself, not when he had lived in Santa Fe long enough to know how the men treated women, how they had treated his mother.

When he told Amaryllis about how his mother had initially met Antrim, she no longer argued about being able to walk herself to her room. He knew that her realization of how important this was to him was the cause of her acquiescence. 

Her uninjured arm was looped through his as they passed by shops and the saloon where so much devastation happened so quickly. 

“Amaryllis!” Billy didn’t waste a second before he stood between the man who approached them quickly from the entrance of the restaurant and boarding house. 

At the feeling of her small hand stopping him by reassuringly resting on his bicep, he relaxed imperceptibly. On the outside, he was as immovable as a mountain in his resolve to protect her.

“Ash.” Yllis let out a relieved sigh and limped to the man. 

She wrapped her arms around him and the man did the same to her, holding her tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Billy clenched his jaw and looked away from the display. 

“I’m sorry I left without waking you. I just went and patched myself up with supplies we didn’t have in our room.” She pulled away finally and looked up at the man adoringly. “I was hoping I would make it back before you could wake.”

 “You don’t have to apologize. I was just worried, but you’re back and in one piece now.” 

Stepping back from her, the man moved the shawl from her shoulder and grimaced at the blood stain. “What do you say we get you changed?” 

“That would be very appreciated.” Billy’s temper receded foolishly when she gazed at him again. “Ash Upson, I want to introduce you to my new friend. This is Billy Antrim. He was also there last night.”

It took everything in him to not just walk away and head back to Carlos. Her face was just too hopeful and happy for him to disregard her like that. It was like she was excited for Billy to meet him. So, he did what a gentleman should do.

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Upson.” The two men shook hands cordially.

“It’s good to meet you as well, Billy. I’d like to talk to you about the incident last night. Do you have time now?”

Begrudgingly, he found himself agreeing against his own will. 

What the hell was wrong with him?

Before he could second-guess his actions, Yllis took his hand and started leading him to the stairs landing. “Ash, can you order for us, and we’ll come down and join you?”

Mr. Upson smiled fondly and nodded, splitting away from them to sit at a table in the restaurant. Billy was so fucking confused as to why the man was so accepting of another man helping Yllis change.

Billy helped her climb the stairs safely, staying just behind her for support. When they reached the room, she pulled him in and shut the door behind him. 

“Listen, I don’t think it’s smart for me to be in here with you.” He voiced.

Yllis laughed at him like it was funny. “Why not? Are you planning on hurting me?”

“Course not.” He didn’t mean for his words to come out biting, but they did. “That’s not what I meant. I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

In his frustration, he didn’t notice her watching him in amusement as he took in the small room. There were no personal belongings except a stack of books on the table and dresses in the closet that wouldn’t close because of the door hanging off its hinges. 

“Can you help me?” Yllis did not comment on what he had said and turned her back to him, trying to pull off her dress but failing miserably with a wince. 

He made quick work of it, taking care to not bump or wrongly position her injured arm. He tossed the dress to the chair in the corner and watched her turn her back to him. 

Billy watched her flick through her dresses before she pulled two out and placed them on the bed. She looked at him and worried her bottom lip between her teeth in a brief moment of hesitation.

“Can you…” her smooth voice trailed off and her eyes were on her underdress.

“Look, Luck. I don’t know if this is appropriate for me to be helping you change when your husband is downstairs waiting for us,” the words he had been itching to say broke free.

Another laugh had him clenching his jaw. “I don’t get how this is funny so why the hell are you laughin'?”

Brown eyes filled with mirth landed on his face, his clenched jaw, the muscle that feathered there, and his hands that were in fists by his sides.

“I was waiting until you got the courage to finally ask. Now, I need you to lift this off of me with your eyes closed. No peeking.” 

“Goddammit, Amaryllis. You know damn well what I’m askin’.”

“I’m really in trouble if you used the full name.” Her eyes were soft and light when she looked at him as if his annoyance wasn’t seconds away from boiling over. “I’ll answer any question you have if you get me out of this soaked and bloodied nightdress first.”

He walked until he stood half of a foot in front of her. Her eyes didn’t break from his for a moment.

“Eyes. Closed.” 

Doing as she said, he had to look away first when he closed them and helped shimmy her out of the nightdress. His mind was going wild. 

This wasn’t holy in the eyes of all gods. 

Did she have something else under there? Or was she a foot away and completely bare and he had to keep his fucking eyes screwed shut? 

Billy could only listen to her steps move away, the rustling of fabric, and the warmth of her body in front of him again. As promised, his eyes remained shut.

She handed him the dress and instructed him to pull it over her head. First, they gently worked together to move her injured arm through. Feeling the new chemise settle over her shoulders, he helped pull the hem of the silken dress down her body. 

His blood rushed hot when the back of his hand grazed smooth round skin for the briefest of moments.

“There. You can open your eyes now.” He didn’t need to be told again and he had never opened them so fast.

Her back was to him and she wore a cream underdress that did nothing to hide her figure. It clung to her frame like water, every curve defined. Turning to him and offering him her last dress was cruel. Billy was still a kid and he couldn’t get a strong enough hold on the reins to take control of his hormones. 

The fabric bunched at her hips and barely covered the tops of her thighs. Sliding up her body, he saw the outline of her breasts and the two peaks that hardened in the cold. 

Fucking hell.

He slammed his eyes shut and breathed deeply before he helped her into her much thicker dress that removed all of her curves from the gazes of the public. He thought the fire in his blood would die when he couldn’t see her femininity under it. That hope was thrown to the wind when nothing changed. 

“Thank you. Now, as promised, ask me whatever you want.” 

Real feelings are in the eyes.

Hers were alight with mischief, the little minx. “You’re a cruel woman.”

The giggle she loosed had his lips turning upward slightly. It was such a soft sound and it was right there that he decided she would be doing it every time she was in his company. He couldn’t survive any other reality.

“Mr. Upson. Why the hell is he okay with me bein’ in here alone with you?”

“I’m sure he has his reservations, but he knows me well enough to not judge my choices. He knows me well enough that he wouldn’t dare try n’ tell me what to do. At least to my face,” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m still not understandin’.”

The sway of her hips and her alluring scent had him heady when she stopped not even a foot away this time. “Mr. Upson is not my husband. That was just an assumption you made.”

With a roll of his eyes, he knew now that she was just being coy because his reactions amused her. “I did make that assumption. But, you wear a fuckin’ wedding ring for Christ’s sake. I’m pretty certain anyone else would have done the same.”

“Well, next time maybe consider just asking? Instead of upsetting yourself and running away with your thoughts, you can just communicate.” 

As crazy as it would have been to follow through with it, he had wanted to kiss her this morning when they were practically pressed against one another as he helped her bandage her wound. 

Standing between her legs and having so much of their bodies almost touch was the sweetest sample of being heaven-struck. Then he saw her ring.

“It was my mother’s ring,” she added mercifully when he didn’t say anything. “It offers me some protection, even just marginally. Rabid men don’t respect when a woman says no. They are, however, slightly more amenable when they think a woman already has a collar with another man’s name ‘round her neck.”

He dropped his gaze from her face to said neck, admiring how gently feminine her features were. He liked how her collarbones were prominent and her shoulders so much more slender than his. The dip where her clavicles dipped to her sternum was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen. 

And that gods damned voice was sweeter than but dripped the same as honey.

“And Billy, do you see a collar ‘round my pretty neck?”

At that, he softened. Lifting his hand, he lightly placed it on the side of her neck. His only thought was how his touch was calloused and too rough to touch something so delicate. Just the slightest contact with him and he felt as though she would be tarnished like her paper-thin chemise was with her blood. 

But I can be gentle.

Billy wanted to learn to be gentle for her and he wanted her to know that he wasn’t one of the rabid men who broke women like they break wild horses. The ones who chain the spirit of willful women.

Being the most gentle he had ever been with anything, he smoothed his thumb up and down her throat. He watched as her pulse skipped at his touch and grinned.

“No. And I don’t think that is something that I ever want to see, Lady Luck.”

------------

“I hear your friend’s assailant isn’t being charged for any part of last night.” Ash Upson’s words didn’t strike Billy as though they could be true.

It was like the world stopped. “What?”

Mr. Upson looked at Yllis and placed a hand over hers that rested on her knee as he gauged her reaction. “They’re saying there were aggravating circumstances; that it was self-defense.”

“Adrenaline coursed through him and his blood felt cold. That’s bullshit! I was there. I saw what happened.” 

“I know that. Everyone who was there and saw what happened knows that.” Mr. Upson kept his voice calm and low, something Billy was so far away from being capable of doing.

Feeling warm hands wrap around his bicep, he turned to look at Amaryllis. She was staring at the foyer with a look of fury and a healthy dose of fear. 

Fear of unpredictable rabid men. 

Billy only felt rage. He felt murderous when he saw the man who had shot his best friend and a lady without hesitation. The same girl that sat to his left and had her small hands wrapped around his arm. Not out of fear for herself, but for him. This realization registered, but Billy wasn’t thinking clearly. He could barely think of anything through the pounding nails in his head that urged him to take his justice. If the criminal justice system failed, he sure as hell wouldn't.

“Billy,” Amaryllis’ voice sounded begging.

“It’s him.” His voice fell out as if someone said the words over his shoulder instead of them falling between his lips.

The raw rage was something he wasn’t familiar with. He stood up roughly and lunged toward the bastard, tearing his arm free from Yllis. He let out a hiss through his teeth when Mr. Upson barricaded his path. 

“I know.” Mr, Upson blocked him and placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders. “But just don’t.” 

Billy tried to break free from his hold and move around him. 

“You have no idea what you are up against. If you sit down, I’ll do my best to explain it to you. Just sit down.”

Amaryllis gently placed her hand on his arm. This time when she touched him, it was feather-light. He could've missed it. It was her hesitancy that made his attention drift only slightly from the man.

“Billy, he isn’t being charged for what he did last night.” Amaryllis’ hand left his forearm entirely. “Maybe it’s just an assumption, but I don’t believe he’d be held responsible for anything he does in broad daylight either.”

Mr. Upson had his hands on Billy’s shoulders and stood in front of him, blocking his view of the man who almost took the one good thing Billy had found. 

“She’s right. Don’t.” Mr. Upson gave a pleading smile and shook his head. “Unless you want to die.”

Breathing deeply through his nose, Billy’s tortured gaze landed on the monster across the hall again. It took every fiber of his being to collect himself enough to back away.

He shook his head in disbelief. He had to just sit down while the man who shot his friend had no consequences for shooting two kids. His fingernails dug into his palms from how tightly he clenched his fists.

“I don't know the shooter,” Upson’s voice was soft and calm. “But the gent he's sitting down with is a man by the name of Hennessy.”

Billy’s fury flared again. He was having brunch and laughing. 

“He's a well-known circuit judge. He's also a prominent member of the Santa Fe ring.” 

Billy furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. “What the hell is that?”

“Well, the rings run most things out here. In the West, Billy, they are secret societies of wealthy people. The Santa Fe ring is the oldest and most powerful ring of them all. Which is why I'm here.” 

His grip on his emotions slowly returned to him and he had to consciously bring his breathing back to normal. This was a Herculean task considering every time Billy looked at the man, his fury returned.

“I'm investigating the whole damn system; the wholesale corruption, the cronyism, the lawlessness.”

A country that supports nothing but the continuation of violence.

These people…” Upson lowered his voice by a degree more. “They buy senators. They buy sheriffs. They buy judges. They buy anyone they damn well please. They get rid of people who stand in their way.”

Billy mulled the words over in his head, finally understanding as the fog cleared. “So you think this guy is a member of the… ‘the ring’?”  

“Either that or they protect him for whatever reason. 

“Well, if people know about these ‘rings’, why don't they just step in and break ‘em up?”

“Corruption corrupts,” Amaryllis explained with disappointment for him on her pale face. “One bad seed kills the garden. The people who have the power to stop them have looked the other way since the very inception of this country.” 

Upson agrees with an affirmative shake of his head. “Because these rings go all the way to the top, that's why.”

“I just want justice for my friend,” Billy gritted out. 

“I understand.” And Billy could tell he truly did.

Mr. Upson seemed incredibly adept at promoting calm.

“But justice-- true justice, Billy? Doesn't usually come out of the barrel of a gun.”

Clearing his throat, Upson raised his voice and stretched back in his chair. Mr. Upson was relaxing great at de-escalating, considering that Billy was no longer foaming at the mouth with rage.

“We have to expose the evil and clean up the system.”

“And how long do you suppose that will take, Mr. Upson?”

Billy already knew he didn’t love the answer. “I don't know. Years? Possibly longer. But I know it's the only way.”

Hardening his gaze, he glared at the racist demon across the dining hall. Feeling resigned and like he failed Carlos, he loosened his tensed muscles in disappointment.

“I don't know if I can wait that long.”

[berthare-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.

[eloiseyat-blog]

The Story of Billy the Kid - C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo | History |648117413

The Story of Billy the Kid C. Stephen Badgley & Charles A. Siringo Genre: History Price: Get Publish Date: May 13, 2013 The true life of the most daring young outlaw of the age. He was the leading spirit in the bloody Lincoln County, New Mexico war. When a bullet from Sheriff Pat Garrett’s pistol pierced his breast he was only twenty-one years of age and had killed twenty-one men, not counting Indians. His six years of daring outlawry has never been equaled in the annals of criminal history. The facts set down in this narrative were gotten from the lips of "Billy the Kid," himself, and from such men as Pat Garrett, John W. Poe, Kip McKinnie, Charlie Wall, the Coe brothers, Tom O'Folliard, Henry Brown, John Middleton, Martin Chavez, and Ash Upson. All these men took an active part, for or against, the "Kid." Ash Upson had known him from childhood, and was considered one of the family, for several years, in his mother's home. Other facts were gained from the lips of Mrs. Charlie Bowdre, who kept ''Billy the Kid” hid out at her home in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, after he had killed his two guards and escaped.