Destiny's Cycle Twenty-Two: Twisted Tight

Curry shook his head, a frown creasing his face, and with a nod Heyes turned back to Lottie, "it is freezing out there, and there isn't much sunlight left."

"Well, I realize that." She answered turning an expression on Doc Holliday that was quite similar to Kid Curry's. "However, Sherrif Mills will be here soon."

Heyes' nose wrinkled at her words, and he heard the scrape of Curry's boots on the wood floor as he shifted. "Lottie, way I see it, me and the boys have dumped enough funding in this place to own a portion of the bricks and mortar holding it together."

Lottie's red curls swayed as her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing at the Devil's Hole leaders.

"You thinking I am incorrect?"

"Not entirely, Heyes." She glided toward the dark-haired man, "but, quell am I to do with y'all?"

"Put us upstairs."

"Quell if Sherrif Mills decides to search the place?"

Flicking his eyes to Doc, Heyes purred, "why you intending to lead us to slaughter?" Darkly his eyes slid back to her, his smile emerging. Only, it was not filled with the warm, impishness that so often bent Lottie Thibodeaux's will. Truth be told, a thought flickered through her mind that he resembled a snarling wolf ready to pounce, and her nostrils flared the tiniest bit. "Well, Lottie?"

"I would not jamais deal with y'all in such a manner."

Heyes nodded, "come on, Kid, let's find a warm spot to roost upstairs." Stalking past her, he whispered in a threatening tone, "do not be forgetting you dubbed as your bonne amis."

The muscles down Lottie's back clenched, "you be in the wrong threatening moi, Monsieur Hannibal Heyes."

Not even glancing back, Heyes started up the side stairs.

Stopping beside her, Curry softly said, "don't be mindin' him none, Lottie, he gets twisted tight sometimes, even when he shouldn't." Curry looked to his partner, "he doesn't mean nothing by it."

Laying her hand along Curry's sun-tanned neck, she kissed his cheek, "Merci beaucoup, Kid."

Having moved from behind his Faro table, Doc Holliday's soft southern voice drawled out unusually hard, "shall I remove said, gentleman?" He nodded toward Heyes.

Curry's head pivoted his way, "make a move, and I'll put a limp in your walk."

Doc smiled fiendishly, "like to see you try, boy…oh, dear me, excuse me, Kid."

Curry's shoulders squared, his buried temper simmering to the surface.

Her hand still cupping his neck, Lottie traced her thumb along his jawline, "don't be mindin' Doc none, he gets twisted tight sometimes also."

Curry's eyes dropped to Lottie.

"Go on up, afore the Law arrives." Stepping back from Curry, she scolded Doc's way, "and, vous start considerin' quell we are going to tell Monsieur Mills."

In the hall leading north and south from the side stairs, Curry came up on Heyes speaking with a gal with short, dark auburn curls who flashed a playful grin, "Hey, Kid."

Nodding, he replied, "Darby."

"Just tryin' to convince Heyes to join me," her lower lip emerged in an exaggerated pout. "But, he. . ." she shook her head.

"Like I been saying, I ain't in the mood, just point out an empty room."

"Well, like I been saying, there ain't no empty rooms." She crossed her arms over the corset, which was quite amazingly managing to keep her full, jiggling bosoms restrained. "Why would the Chicken Ranch have empty rooms, wouldn't make no sense, now would it?"

A laugh rolled from Curry, "she has you there."

In a cool hard tone, Heyes replied, "not in the mood for much of anything 'bout now."

The laugh rolled forth again, "says the man who won't let me be when he knows I am ready to put men beneath the ground." Seeing his jab wedged a crack into the hard shell encasing his partner, Curry patted him on the back. "She was defending her place, just like you would the Hole."

"Isn't right her thinking to throw us out with the other rabble."

"Sure, she wasn't considering us rabble."

Heyes' nose wrinkled.

"More likely, she thought we'd be safer someplace else."

"Out in the cold!?"

"Well, we ain't in the cold and Darby…" Curry laughed, "is more than willing to thaw you out."

Darby nodded briskly.

Stepping about the pair, Curry asked, "Marjorie alone?"

"She is," Darby answered, and at the sharp rap of Curry's fist on Marjorie's door, she turned back to Heyes. Sighing, she stroked a lock of hair that had escaped from his hat from his face. "Well, Sugah, you gonna stand out in the hall fumin'?" Taking his hand, she gave it a gentle tug, "or?"