Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 4

So missing last weeks Blues Buster I knew I had to try to get this weeks in...

(don't own the picture, found on web)
(click the picture to check out all the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster)

Revenge

                His spurs echoed as he stepped through the swinging door, he tossed his jacket to the first table inside and rested his hands on his hips.  His pistols only a quick motion away, he looked around the bar but was surprised to find it empty.  Most nights it would have been packed with men looking for liquor or sex and more often than not both.  But now, it stood empty despite the pouring rain outside.

                “He’s not here.”

                “Who?”

                She smiled stepping from the shadows bottle in hand, her Irish accent thick with each word.  “The sheriff but you knew who I was talking of.”  Of course it was her, curly blond hair pulled up but still managed to look as wild as he knew she was.  She pulled two glasses and set them to the counter and smiled her best friendly smile but he knew a lot about her.  Most of all she was anything but friendly and innocent.  “You came here to kill tonight; guns ready to blaze and paint this town red.  Can’t say I much blame you, your brothers left to hang in the center of town for the world to see stripped as the day they were born.”

                “We’ve not had the pleasure, you’re her.”  He already knew the answer but wanted it still.

                “Ah, sweetie, there is always a girl, I just happen to be the one in this tale.”  He never took his right hand from the pistol, ready to move at each sound of the creaking floorboards as he approached the bar.

                “The sheriff?”

                “For the right price I could be yours too,” she ignored his question.  He felt his heart skip but it wasn’t the notion of a night of passion with the curvy woman who was about to spill from her corset but her smile ate away at him.  Even knowing how deadly she was he found himself attracted to her smile alone.

“Stories from the beginning of time about the destruction left in a beautiful woman’s path.”  He looked into her bright green eyes trying to ignore her alluring smile.

He pulled his pistol and set it on the counter between them but she never flinched or moved away, only smiled as she leaned against the counter.  “I liked your little brother cowboy, he was sweet.”

“You got him killed,” he stated, his brown eyes glared into hers.  “You got them both killed.”

“Did no such thing,” she replied, “what went down between your brothers and the sheriff had little to do with me.  Idle hands and too much liquor got those sweet boys lives taken too soon.”  She lifted her glass up as if to toast and quickly tossed back her drink with a mischievous smile on her red lips.  “It had nothing to do with me.”

“Every week, he would spend every free dime he got on you…”

“No fault of mine.”

A crash of thunder captured his attention, turning back to the door for only a moment.  He shifted back, she had circled the counter and now he could smell the sweet perfume, sweat, and liquor.  Her finger drifted from his lips to the tip of his chin and then to his chest.  She continued to smile.  “You came lookin’ for blood I don’t think you much care whose, the sheriffs or mine.  There is an old saying ‘He who seeks vengeance should first dig two graves’.”  He felt her hand on his, she leaned in with her other hand grabbing at his shirt pulling him close.  He lost himself in the kiss, her lips tasted of strawberries and for a second he lost himself.   

A swift and sudden sharp pain in his side and he quickly pulled away.  Stumbling to the floor with another clap of thunder, he never saw the knife or knew when she removed her right hand from his.  She knelt down in front of him and he could see his blood on the knife.  “Sorry love, a girl can’t be too careful.”  He raised his own hand to see the dark red crimson just as the darkness took him.