This chapter is set in 1x05: The Lord of War and Thunder

Lottie May kept her nose outta Arlo's business, his snot was smeared all over hers but she didn't go near him save the weekend dinners her momma made her attend. That's the way it'd always been between father and daughter and they were fine and dandy to keep it that way. He'd been too old when she was a born, the shit he'd once given had long dried up, and truth be told he never wanted her. An even harder truth, he'd wanted Raylan. And in Arlo's mind Lottie May had always been subpar.

So when she opened her door to find the tentative knock had come from her daddy she knew he wanted something. But her momma raised her right, as had Bo Crowder, and so Lottie May invited Arlo inside and poured him a glass of tea fore sitting across from him in the living room.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said making a show of looking around. "New color?" he asked pointing to the dark blue of the walls.

Her eyes weren't included in the smiling of her mouth, Arlo could be talking about the weather and somehow he was the most suspicious son of a bitch – she loathed the cadence of his voice almost much as the sound. "I thought it went better with the couch," she said raising her own glass to her painted lips. If there was anything Arlo taught her it was the beauty of half truths; she'd painted to cover up blood, after she'd scraped off the brains and caulked over the bullet hole.

"That it does," Arlo said with a nod as he glanced over the few pictures she had; most were of Helen, a few with Boyd and Johnny, and two with Bo Crowder – one where he'd taken her fishing and they both smiled at her impressive catch, and the other a striking black and white one of Bo standing with the pattern of sunlight through leaves over his rotund body. Arlo could tell on sight which ones she'd taken, they had a certain emotion to them; his girl was an artist. But he was shit at sentiment so what he said was, "I'm sure you guessed but I didn't come for the tea, though it is mighty fine."

The curling of her mouth was wry and distasteful; "naturally."

"I never asked much from you, I can at least attest to that, but I need a favor," he said knowing she was as likely to agree as she was to tell him to go to hell. She'd always been a wild card, her loyalty never quite pegged down. "I know you been keepin a sharp eye on Stan Perkins, the little bastard hasn't been payin his rent."

That she had, he'd encroached Bo's territory – she'd been keepin tabs, takin names, she had an unknown hand in his entire business. But Arlo knew she worked for Bo, knew she was in contact still with folks in Miami. And Arlo knew Lottie May didn't do a job half assed, she'd know Perkins' boss, suppliers, dealers, schedule, the details of his store and whether he stored the drugs there or just used it to funnel money. She'd had her eye on him the moment he showed up. If a man, such as Arlo, wanted to cross Stan Perkins then Lottie May was the woman to go through.
And her blood simmered at knowing that was the only reason he was there, why he'd ever force himself to ask of her anything. She took a deep steadying breath and told her mouth to smile. "What do you need?"

He set his cup down and nearly jumped when she slapped a coaster under it fore the glass touched the table, his gaze quickly meeting hers to see a dare in her eye. Under different circumstances he might've set her straight, whether or not she liked him he was her daddy and she could offer no word or action against him. Under different circumstances he'd be lookin for a reason to yell or raise a hand to her. Helen absolutely hated the two of them together, only Arlo was saddled with the blame cause to her Lottie May did no wrong. But Arlo knew, he could see it in her dark eyes she was riling him up wantin him to hit her.
But he was the one in need, in her home, and he was made to humble himself. "You know where he keeps his money?"

"In the store's funds," she answered simply knowing that wasn't what Arlo really wanted.

And he knew she knew it, and his hand clenched as he stared at her smug face and her closed mouth. She'd make him beg for it, and if he wasn't so irate he might've appreciated the narcissism she'd inherited from him. "Surely there's something else," he said, his jaw grinding at her silence. "He keep the drugs in the store too?"

If he wasn't Arlo she might've gone so far as to say, 'good boy,' but she resigned herself to shaking her head. "In the house, he just got a shipment he'll distribute this weekend." She watched him smile, watched the easy way his rage turned to glee in the blink of an eye. "I'm guessin you'll let me know if you need anything else."

Arlo stood almost feelin the want to kiss her cheek. "Good to know I can count on you, Lottie girl," he said not noticing the half grin she wore was almost genuine. "And if your brother happens to stop by, this conversation never happened. I can show myself out, thank you for the tea."

If your brother happens to stop by - those words were a vacuum sucking all warmth from her body leaving her frigid. It figured the only reason Arlo would'a sat in her house and asked for her help was cause of Raylan. Arlo may have never said a kind word for him but every time she saw their mutual daddy it was clear Raylan was the favorite. In one quick movement she'd grabbed Arlo's half drunken glass and hurled it at the wall, his engine starting up masking the sound of the glass shattering. She was left with clenched fists a heaving chest and murder in her eyes, so tired of living beneath the shadow Raylan Givens left behind. With trembling hands she smoothed her hair back and fixed her shirt, locking that festering rage inside her overheated skin.

…

Two days later

Just from the sound of the knocking it was clear the owner of the hand was in no mood, loud dull thumps as he started a second round since the first hadn't been answered. Though the reason why was clear when the door opened and Raylan was greeted with the sight of Lottie May tying a robe with her hair piled on top of her head. He was struck again by how pretty she'd grown. "Evenin Lottie," he greeted leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey Ray," she said not knowin why he was on her doorstep so late in the night.

He gave a small, not quite amused smile, at bein called Ray – she'd been the only person who ever called him that. "See now, I believe you wanted me to find out it was you at the bar."

She gave her own smile though it was quite amused. "Well if I really wanted it I could'a called ya 'Way' considerin I hadn't gotten the hang of r's when you left," she said following his hand as he took his hat off. "Since you're here I'm guessing you looked at my record."

He gave a short hum as he stared down at her seein not a care in the world on her face. "You failed to mention it included prison," he said still not over that, or that her small hands could've left someone in a coma. Especially not with how sweet and young she looked with her hair pulled back.

"Really?" she asked cocking a brow, "you were thinkin of taking me to bed and my stint in prison is what I left out."

Discomfort knotted a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow, still very unhappy about that part as well. But his mind was on something very specific and not even the sickening thought of what almost happened could deter him. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Depends on how hard it'll be to get you out. I was plannin on going to bed after my bath," she responded seeing in the firm way he looked at her, let alone that he was there, he'd come with a reason.

At her step back he entered her home and out of habit his gaze roamed over corners and walls for anyone else who might be there fore his eyes settled on her once more. "Just have a few questions before I go back to the hospital; one of which, is why you're not there?" Someone helped Arlo, and given her time in prison Raylan's suspicions were cast heavily on her; his thoughts, she wasn't at the hospital cause she'd taken care of Arlo's business.

She was almost surprised by that question, at least coming from him cause surely he didn't wanna see their father. "I was plannin on grabbing the 'get well soon' card I sent when he had his first heart attack and just resend that," she said, pleasant as if she'd been offering him pie. "But I don't think you looked up my address to ask me that. Were you hopin to try for another kiss?" she asked enjoying the uncomfortable laugh he gave as he shook his head.

"Do you know Stan Perkins?" he asked not even touching a response to her question.

And there was the reason he'd stopped by, cause of Arlo. She looked up at Raylan feeling herself start to burn as she wondered what it was about the Givens boys using her as a gateway between each other. But what she said was, "little guy with the dirty Sanchez mustache?" She watched his eyes as he laughed not seeing the smile reach them as he waited for an actual answer. "I got my bathtub from him, and since he rents momma's house he gave a little discount."

Raylan stared at her feeling his irritation grow bigger than the part of him saying she hadn't given reason to assume she'd been the one to help Arlo, that he wasn't being fair. He was going with his gut and his gut told him that after Helen was roughed up earlier Arlo wouldn't have asked for her help, which left Lottie. "You're not gonna make this easy, are you?" he muttered more to himself. "You know anything about the drugs Arlo took from the house, cause they were planted today for me to find? But Arlo's been in the hospital so it couldn't've been him." He left it open for her to finish, whether to defend herself or to feign outrage, didn't matter which the way she responded was his answer.

"You know I was gonna get back in the bath," she said hiding how very unhappy she was at how quick he'd been to point a finger at her. "You wanna join me?" she asked, her voice lowering, his brows furrowing in alarmed shock. "The answer's either me or my momma, you're gonna be unhappy no matter what. So, I got more than enough alcohol for you to forget we're related cause I ain't got nothin else for you."

He didn't know whether to be disappointed, disgusted, outraged, or hell aroused. His mind was so confused by her cause he couldn't tell if her answer meant she'd helped Arlo or hadn't, nor did he know if she was serious, he didn't know anything when it came to her other than the four year old he'd barely known – the reaction she'd been aiming for. And so with a baffled shake of his head he put back on his hat and turned for the door. "Evening Lottie," he said parting with the same words used in greeting.

"He tried to drown me."

Before he had a chance to understand those words his feet had stilled and his head was turned to look at her over his shoulder. "What?"

She stepped closer and stood with her arms crossed. "Arlo," she clarified so he'd have no doubts. "It'd been a good day, lord knows he had so few. He sat me on his knee and he started tellin me these stories, maybe they were jokes I don't know I think one involved a bear. But he was laughin and," she stood staring at the air in front of her like it held the answers she was looking for, and Raylan stood rooted in her doorway hopin he'd misheard her but he was feeling his chest tighten with every word. Her gaze turned to his face to see his curiosity and dread, and a look so sad she almost wished she'd just let him leave. Almost. "And then he looked at me and I remember not likin the way his eyes turned, like milk that soured. 'You're not Raylan,' that's what he said. And then he told me to fill the sink and do the dishes. He pushed my head under the water til I stopped movin. Feelin me go limp is when he snapped out of it." She stepped closer to Raylan, staring up at his pained face. "In case something like this comes up again let me make myself clear, I'm not doin shit for that man. And you can be damn sure I was disappointed he didn't die today, and don't act like you weren't neither. No you go on and leave, see if you at least say goodbye fore you leave me this time."

She walked to her room and slammed the door behind her, leaving Raylan standing at door weighed down by a lifetime of guilt – her lifetime. She wanted him guilty, she wanted him thinking he owed her, she wanted him to care. At the sound of his tires on the gravel of her driveway she sat on the bed and called her mother. "Hey momma," she greeted. "I might've let Raylan believe I was not the one who put the drugs back in the house, which means he thinks it was you." She listened to her mother's righteous anger, 'mmhmmed' to several of her points, 'you're right,' to several others about how pissed Raylan would be – which wasn't fair to her momma cause she'd always done right by Raylan. But there was one point in particular that stopped Lottie May in her tracks.

"Now I expect to see you here bright and early tomorrow to see your father, and you are to be sweet as pie, you hear me?"

Lottie May raised her head to look at the ceiling. "Yes momma," she said makin sure not grumble cause that'd only make it worse.

"And you bring him some nice flowers, and don't you dare spit in 'em."

She sighed so heavily her shoulders slumped as she pouted, lookin as much like a child as she sounded. "Yes momma."