Arthur's eyes keep darting to yours while he speaks with Dutch, seemingly unable to stop staring at you. His glances have become increasingly obvious since his breakup with Mary, but much to your frustration that was all. You supposed he was being a gentleman, not wanting to hurt Mary by moving on too fast, or perhaps he wasn't sure if you felt the same way? You weren't exactly subtle with your pining, Charles had even said Arthur had noticed your attention, so why hadn't he acted upon anything?

From where you sit scrubbing the laundry you can't help but smile whenever his eyes meet yours, but his expression is neutral, not giving away his thoughts as he continues to nod along distractedly with his conversation. That is until you decide to test the waters.

The air is hot with the afternoon sun and it offers the perfect excuse for you to slip open a few buttons on your blouse. Leaning back on your knees you sigh loudly, ensuring his eyes fall on you. Once you're certain you've caught his attention your trail your fingers lazily from the water to your throat, letting the drops drip freely onto your shirt, turning the fabric transparent. Meeting his gaze, you smile innocently, sliding your fingers seductively down your neck and to your top button, you note how his eyes follow trailing the path down to your chest. Deft fingers snap the top two buttons open, leaving Arthur with a clear view of your cleavage.

"Arthur!"

Arthur's eyes shoot back to Dutch to see him snapping his fingers, you bite your lip, trying desperately to hide your smile.

"You're away with the fairies son, I need you focused for this job."

Arthur apologizes quickly, looking rather flushed and turning red, grunting an excuse he storms away shaking his head.

You return to your laundry victorious, pleased to have affected the handsome outlaw. Focusing back on your chores, you miss the way Dutch is watching you, squinting harshly as he begins to realize what may be blossoming.

A cramp in your side stirs you from your broken sleep, you blink your eyes open slowly, trying to clear your vision. Your belly stirs again, and you gasp, hands flying to your stomach...except...only one moves. Following your left arm, you see it cuffed in iron to the headboard. Giving it a cautionary tug, it clinks, the iron holding strong, you realize it's not budging and sighs, defeated. Colm was nowhere to be seen and relief washes over you. He had threatened you last night, but he didn't harm you, instead, he'd dragged you to the bed and laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest and holding you there whilst you trembled.

"Shush dear." He cooed whilst petting your hair. "I wouldn't think of fighting, not with the baby in such a delicate condition."

You shuddered at the memory, you'd realized he was right, you wouldn't be able to fight back, not when you were supposed to be on bed rest already. Instead, you'd stayed still, letting him hold you close as he pets your hair. You tried your hardest to get lost in your thoughts, blocking out as best you could the situation you were in.

"Good morning dear." Colm's voice pulls you back to the present as he enters the tent.

Crossing to the bed he sits heavily, and you shuffle back, trying to put as much distance between you both as your restraints will allow. He's quick though and his hand shoots out grabbing your ankle painfully, his fingers twitching angrily before slowly loosening and he begins to caress the skin gently. Your eyes don't leave the spot where you both connect, and you hold your breath while his fingers trail tenderly along your calf. He's quiet, seemingly lost in the moment.

"You remind me of her, she was so beautiful too. Feisty like you." He raises an eyebrow as if realizing something else. "She always wanted to have a baby, but he always made an excuse."

His words are confusing, you have no idea who he's talking about, but you sit frozen, listening to his musings. His other hand grips a bottle tightly and your eyes widen in realization, your tonic, you'd missed several doses since being here and were desperate to take it, the cramp this morning a warning of what would happen if you didn't take it soon.

"She's the closest I ever came to being in love, and he turned her against me. I had no choice but to kill her, she betrayed me. This time will be different, he won't take you from me." He removes his hand, eyes meeting yours as he places it upon your swollen belly, he won't take this from me."

"Please Colm." You beg, pleading with him. "Please let me go, I won't tell them where you are, I can convince Arthur to leave you be, just let me go.

His eyes darken at their mention of Arthur's name and you realize you've made a mistake.

"Annabelle made promises too but they were all lies. Even when I pulled the trigger, she was still making promises."

Annabelle. Was he talking about Dutch's Annabelle?

"You see this?" he holds up your tonic and your eyes following like a dog with a bone. "Don't think that just because I want a legacy, I won't smash this."

"NO!" You lurch forward as far as you can just as he lets it go, his fingers snatching it again just before it tumbles to the ground.

"I'm more than happy to let that baby die and fill you with my own, so don't think for one second I need you to take this. If you behave while you're here we'll both get what we want, understand?"

You nod slowly not seeing an alternative. His features softening instantly at your submission.

"Here." He holds up your chin, tipping your head back and holding the bottle on your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, blocking him from your view, and drink until he decides you've had enough.

"You'll get your second dose after dinner. But only if you deserve it." He adds darkly.

That numb feeling of helplessness begins to creep over you again as you realize the situation your back in, and it's exhausting. You're so tired. Tired of being pushed from heartache to pain repeatedly. Tired of feeling helpless and alone. Tired of waiting to be rescued.

"Colm?"

Eyebrows raising in surprise at your sudden friendly tone, he waits for you to continue.

"Why me?"

It had occurred to you that part of your frustration was from not understanding why you were there. Abigail could just have easily been a target, being the 'wife' of one of Dutch's adopted sons but the O'Driscolls had specifically targeted you that day in the mountains. They'd tracked and followed you, clearly waiting for you specifically.

Colm tilts his head, thinking over your question.

"We've had our eyes on you since Blackwater and at first you were a means to an end. Dutch stole from me and you were a way to get even because there was no way Dutch was going to have his precious golden boy heartbroken. Only things changed when I saw you."

He drops his head, remembering your first meeting in the tent, his men had been the ones who'd scouted you on his orders, and at the time he'd only have heard of you through the intel they'd gathered.

"You looked so much like Annabelle and the way you were trembling...I fell in love all over again and I knew I couldn't let you go. Especially not for the filthy Morgan to get his hands on you."

Ironically, you realize how lucky you'd been the first time you were captive. Colm had clearly deluded himself into thinking he loves you and he never had any intention of letting you go, even if Dutch had found a way to pay him back. You make a mental note, for if you ever manage to escape, to thank Lenny for being in Valentine when he was.

"No, once I saw you there was no way I could let you go."

"Then why did you shoot me?" you ask, angry that his delusions had clearly allowed him to forget he'd almost killed you.

"Because if I couldn't have you, neither could he. But when I heard you had survived, I realized we had a second chance and here we are, as if fate had planned it."

"But fate didn't plan it Colm." You spit through clenched teeth. "Fate had nothing to do with it, you are the one that brought me here."

"And can't you see? Fate allowed it to happen! The day Dutch came to me we were leaving for the ranch, it was because of fate he came just in time to tell me you'd survived. The deal was his idea, not mine, but I knew it was meant to be."

Your head is spinning at Colm's revelation. "Dutch told you I survived?"

Colm's smile solidifies the pit growing in your stomach.

"My dear, Dutch has kept me very well informed of your wellbeing. As much as I hate the man, I can't help but respect his methods, even setting up Hosea as he did."

"Dutch would never have wanted Hosea killed!"

"That wasn't a part of the plan, and I'm afraid my men went a little rouge on that one, but I assure you Dutch orchestrated the whole thing."

"But why?" you amaze yourself at how calm you sound.

Despite the knowledge of the betrayal cutting, you to your core, you can't help but push for more information. Eager to understand every move made against you, in the hopes that it may help you escape.

"You're beautiful but you sure don't listen do ya? You remind Dutch of her, he said so himself. To see you in the arms of Morgan every day, his own son... Now I'm a cruel man Y/N, but even that is a fate I wouldn't wish upon my enemies."

"You're lying." There was no other explanation. "Arthur knew Annabelle, you don't think it would have come up that we resemble one another?"

He waves his hand dismissively whilst chuckling, clearly amused at your anger, not caring that this was your life he was tearing apart.

"Arthur was young when he knew her, no more than eighteen, a person's memories aren't clear after so long. You should have seen Dutch when he found out you were pregnant." Colm laughs out a breath. "Practically begged me to take you, almost on his knees he was."

You shake your head, there was no way this could all be true. If he truly loved Annabelle, then why was he so intent on hurting you? Was it really jealousy?

"Colm!" a thick Irish accent yells from outside before a man stumbles into the tent. "Colm he's back, says it's urgent."

"The hell did I tell you about coming into my tent!" Colm shoots up, slapping the man up the back of the head angrily. "A lady is living here now!"

"Ow-! You told me to tell you if he came back and he says he needs to talk to ya." The man explains, rubbing his head and scowling.

Colm's demeanor changes, and suddenly he straightens, the man's misdeed forgotten instantly.

"Well speak of the devil..." Colm mutters before slipping from the tent, the man hot on his heels.

Unable to do anything but sit on the bed you lean back against the headboard sighing, arm still uncomfortably hanging from its restraint. Your entire world had just been turned upside down by Colm's revelations.

"The hell just happened?" you whisper.

Outside John sits, shifting his weight uncomfortably against the post he's tied to, Abigail and Jack sit tethered beside him, quiet and whimpering periodically.

"It's gonna be okay Abigail, I'll get us out of this."

John has begun to feel it necessary to provide constant reassurance, noting how Abigail had barely spoken since witnessing Keiron's death and he was worried about the effect it was going to have on her mental state. Sure, she'd violence and death, living the life they led it was unavoidable, but she'd never seen anything like this.

Even with his positive words, he wasn't confident about their escape, but he had to try. The truth was situations like this weren't his strength, they were Arthur's. Of course, John had gotten himself out of these types of predicaments in the past, but he had never had to do it with three vulnerable people to protect. He was beginning to realize; he may not be able to save everyone, but if he could just get Abigail and Jack free, they could get help, and he could keep an eye on you.

"Abigail, where is y/n?"

She lifts her head weakly and juts her jaw towards a tent. "He took her in there after you passed out."

His eyes follow and he sees Colm exit looking pissed, his mind conjuring awful images of what could have happened behind the fabric walls. Then he sees another man approaching on a white horse, a white horse John had seen many times in the past, The Count. His blood begins to boil while Dutch dismounts, the anger seeming to seep from every pore until he can no longer contain it.

"You're a real piece of shit, and as soon as I'm out of here I'm going to gut you like a fish and leave you to bleed out." John spits, his voice practically growling from his throat.

Dutch barely glances his way as he hears the threat, instead he continues towards Colm with a frown, there are bigger things to worry about right now.

"I thought we had a deal? We don't see each other until the baby is born."

"We have a problem Colm; Arthur was closer than I thought, and he knows you have her. It won't be long until he tracks you here, not with Charles with him to help."

Colm prods his finger in Dutch's chest, squaring up to the taller man. "You said you had it covered!"

"There was a girl, in the house. I didn't know she was there."

Colm huffs and rubs his chin, frustrated by the loose ends in his reluctant partner's plan.

"Well then, I guess we better send out the welcome party" he speaks with a sickening smile.

"Arthur doesn't get hurt; we had a deal!"

"The deal changed when you proved yourself incompetent! Davis, Conner, go make sure our friend Mr. Morgan gets a warm O'Driscoll welcome." He signals to his men who immediately turn to their horses.

"Wait!" Dutch yells. "I have a plan, you just need to pack up and leave before he gets here, he won't be able to track you if you head North where it's snowing."

Colm holds signals for his men to wait. "You know what...that ain't such a bad idea. Except it needs a few tweaks, I hate the cold, and y/n is in such a delicate state, I'd hate to have the poor dear any more uncomfortable. So, we'll need a distraction while we move."

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

Ignoring Dutch's question Colm turns back to his men, "Start packing everyone up, we're heading to the ranch." They spring into action, hollering at the others to begin gathering their stuff, and soon the whole camp is a flurry of activity with boxes being loaded and horses being saddled.

"So, what kind of a distraction did you have in mind?" Dutch asks.

"The body of a loved one should keep him busy, no?" Colm smirks as he draws his revolver, eyes flashing to John.

"You're going to kill John!?" Dutch yells and Abigail, hearing the two men, begins to scream; begging for Colm to reconsider.

"No, not John...You."

Dutch doesn't have a chance to respond as the bullet pierces his eye, snapping his head back before he topples to the ground, lifeless. The camp falls silent, watching Colm lower the smoking gun.

"Round up the hostages but leave the brother." He yells holstering his gun and making his way to his tent.

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