Chapter 7

Hunter, Merciless, Billy and Jake made their way back to the sheriff’s office, the wooden planks of the sidewalks echoing their footsteps like a solemn funeral march. The office now felt like a second home to Billy and Jake. The walls were adorned with wanted posters, their edges curling from the dry heat of the desert. The smell of leather and gun oil mingled with the faint scent of dust and sweat—a testament to the hard work they’d put in to keep the town safe.

Hunter took the reins of the meeting, his voice strong despite his young age. “With Lewis out of the picture, Rachel’s got no one to get her hands on fresh stock for that hellhole she calls a brothel,” he said, his fists clenched on the table. “We’ve dealt her a serious blow, but she’s not going down without a fight.”

Merciless leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. “We has cut off her supply lines,” he said slowly. “No one who’s helping her now, and I’m sure she know we’re watching.”

Billy nodded, the gravity of their situation settling over him. Rachel was a formidable adversary, and they knew she wouldn’t take this lying down. “Jake’s right,” he said, his voice firm. “Rachel’s got more fight in her than any of us thought. We can’t underestimate her.”

Merciless stood, his eyes on the map spread out on the desk. “We need to anticipate her moves, plan for the worst,” he said, his finger tracing the dusty streets of Old Mesa. “If she’s desperate enough, she might just come for us directly.”

Jake nodded, his eyes glinting with a fierce determination. “And she’s got to know we’re onto her,” he said. “The Dusty Creek town’s been talking. They know what she’s been up to, and they’re not happy about it.”

Merciless leaned forward, his hands folded in front of him. “If she tries anything in the open, we’ll be ready for her,” he said. “We’ve got the Old Mesa town’s backing, and she won’t find any allies anymore.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of their situation heavy in the air. Finally, Billy spoke up. “We’ve come a long way, and we can’t let up now. But we’re all exhausted from the chase and the fight. We need to rest and regroup.”

Merciless nodded, his expression unreadable. “Billy’s right,” he said, his voice gravelly with fatigue. “We’ve done enough for one day. We’ll each go to our own place, get some rest, and reconvene at dawn.”

The group dispersed, each man lost in his own thoughts. Billy couldn’t shake the feeling that Rachel wasn’t done with them yet—far from it. As he lay in his bedroll that night, the sounds of the desert seemed eerily quiet, as if the very land itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. He knew that Rachel had to be reeling from their recent victory, but she was cunning and would likely retaliate in some way.

As they rode back to Mr. Hull’s mansion, Billy pulled Jake aside. “I need you to talk to your mom, okay?” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Find out anything she knows about Rachel’s next move. We can’t let our guard down now.”

Jake nodded, his expression solemn. “I’ll do my best, Billy,” he promised. “I’m not going to let Rachel get away with this.”

Billy took a deep breath, his voice steady. “I need you to understand, Jake. Your mom, she used to work for Rachel, in the brothel, before. We can’t ignore that. I realy sure that Rachel, she’s got connections. We need that information, Jake.”

Jake’s eyes searched Billy’s, understanding the gravity of the situation. He nodded firmly. “I’ll talk to her tonight. I’ll find out what she knows.” The bond between them was palpable, a silent agreement that they would stop at nothing to protect their town and those they cared about.

Mrs. Flynn had been waiting anxiously for their return. When she saw Billy’s blood-soaked shirt, her face paled, but she didn’t ask questions. Instead, she ushered them into the house, her movements swift and efficient as she tended to their wounds and provided them with food and water. Her eyes lingered on Jake, a silent question lingering in her gaze.

As the evening shadows grew long, Billy sat with Mrs. Flynn in the quiet parlor, the crackle of the fireplace the only sound in the room. “Jake’s strong,” he said, his voice quiet. “But we’re all in this now.”

Mrs. Flynn looked up from her mending, her eyes soft. “I know,” she replied, setting aside her work. “I’ve seen you both grow, Billy. Each day you face challenges that I could never have imagined in my youth.”

Her hand reached up to gently cup Billy’s cheek, and she leaned in to kiss his forehead. It was a motherly gesture, one filled with love and pride. “You’ve become the man your father would have been proud of,” she whispered. “And Patton ... I’ve never seen such a change in anyone. You two have done more for this town in a week than anyone else has in a year.”

Billy felt the warmth of her affection and knew that she was right. Their journey had transformed them, turning them from mere survivors into leaders. He leaned down, his arms wrapping around her frail body, and returned the embrace with a gentle squeeze. “I’m doing this for you, Ma,” he murmured into her ear.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. Mrs. Flynn reached up and kissed Billy’s cheek, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I know you are, Billy,” she said, her voice a soft whisper. “You’re doing it for all of us.”

Billy felt the warmth of her embrace, the strength of her spirit enveloping him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this, how much he craved the simple comfort of a mother’s love. They held each other tightly, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of hope. It was a silent promise that they would fight together till the end.

Mrs. Flynn noticed the tension in Billy’s body, the way his eyes lingered on her in a way that was both familiar and charged. Her own heart fluttered, recognizing the signs of his desire, which had become a comforting ritual between them after the long days of hardship. She took his hand in hers, her touch gentle yet firm, and led him upstairs to her bedroom. The candlelight flickered on the walls, casting shadows that danced in the quiet intimacy of the space.

The bedroom was a sanctuary from the harsh realities of their world, the softness of the bed a stark contrast to the hardness of the world outside. Mrs. Flynn turned to Billy, her eyes searching his, seeking his consent. He nodded, the understanding between them unspoken. They had found solace in each other’s arms, a reprieve from the chaos.

Mrs. Flynn began to unbutton Billy’s shirt, her hands trembling slightly with a mix of anticipation and love. Her touch was gentle, but firm, her eyes never leaving his as she revealed the hard planes of his chest. Billy’s breath hitched as her hands moved lower, unbuckling his belt and freeing his erection. It stood proud and eager, a testament to his desire for her.

As they both get naked, she guiding him to the bed, Mrs. Flynn laid back, allowing Billy to climb over her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his firm ass as she pulled him closer. He groaned, feeling the heat of her pussy against his cock. He kissed her, their tongues dancing together as their bodies became one. Billy was gentle at first, his movements slow and deliberate, but as the passion grew, he began to thrust into her with more force. Mrs. Flynn’s moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet sound of their love.

Her hands roamed his body, exploring every inch of his muscular frame. She felt his cock deep inside her, stretching her, filling her up. Her nails dug into his back as she arched her own, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. Billy’s rhythm grew faster, his breath hot and heavy in her ear as he whispered sweet nothings that sent shivers down her spine. The tension between them built, a crescendo of passion that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house.

Billy’s mouth found her nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking against the hardened bud. Mrs. Flynn’s back bowed off the bed, a keening cry escaping her lips as the sensation shot straight to her core. Her hand reached up to mimic his motion, squeezing her own breast, feeling the heat and weight of it in her palm. The dual pleasure was almost too much to bear, and she felt her climax approaching like a runaway stagecoach.

Their bodies moved in a frantic dance of passion, their skin slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the air. Billy reached down, his hand finding hers, their fingers tangling together as they both held onto her breast, squeezing and kneading in unison. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and Mrs. Flynn knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

Her nails scored his back, urging him on, her hips rising to meet each of his powerful thrusts. Billy’s eyes were dark with lust, his pupils dilated as he watched her face, reading every expression, every twitch of her lips, every gasp and moan that spilled from her throat. He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles contracting as she approached her peak.

With a final, guttural groan, Billy thrust deep and held himself there, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed. Mrs. Flynn’s orgasm crashed over her, a wave of pure ecstasy that seemed to go on forever, her body shuddering beneath him. Her legs tightened around him, her heels pressing into his back, her nails digging into his shoulders. The world outside ceased to exist in that moment, and all that mattered was the two of them, locked in their passionate embrace.

As the tremors subsided, Billy leaned down and kissed her tenderly, his breath hot against her skin. “That was the best I’ve ever had, mom,” he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and wonder. Mrs. Flynn’s cheeks flushed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Billy, my son,” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “What we just shared ... it’s more than just physical. It’s a gift, from me to you.” Mrs. Flynn took a deep breath, her grip on Billy’s hand tightening. “Every time we come together like this, it’s not just about pleasure, Billy,” she began, her voice a soft caress. “It’s about giving ourselves to each other, offering comfort and strength in a world that seems so harsh. You’ve faced down evil with nothing but your courage and your convictions. You’ve stood up for what’s right, even when it was hard, even when it was dangerous.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for the understanding she hoped was there. “You need to know that you’re not just fighting for Old Mesa,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. “You’re fighting for every person who’s ever been hurt, every soul who’s ever been trampled by the likes of Rachel. You’re fighting for the future we all deserve.”

Billy’s eyes filled with tears, his heart swelling with love and gratitude for the woman who had become so much more than just a mother to him. He leaned down and kissed her softly, their bodies still entwined in the aftermath of their love making. “Thank you, Ma,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “For everything you’ve done for me, for everything you’ve taught me. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you.”

Mrs. Flynn stroked his hair, her own eyes brimming with tears. “You’ve always been a good man, Billy,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But now, you’re something more. You’re a leader, a hero to this town.”

They held each other for a long moment, the warmth of their bodies entwined, the scent of their passion lingering in the air. Billy felt the weight of her words, the gravity of his new role. He had never wanted to be a hero, but fate had chosen him, and he knew he couldn’t let her down—he couldn’t let any of them down.

Gently, they disentangled, their breaths still heavy and their skin still sticky with sweat. Mrs. Flynn pulled the covers over them both, her hand finding its way to his chest, resting there as if to anchor him to her. Billy wrapped his arms around her, feeling the softness of her breasts press against his chest.

They lay there, the only sound in the room their mingled breaths and the distant howl of a coyote outside. His heart was still racing, but the warmth of her body began to soothe him. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. He felt the gentle press of her lips against his skin, a tender kiss that sent a shiver down his spine.

The candle had burned down to a nub, casting a warm glow on the walls. The shadows danced and flickered, telling a silent story of their love and the battles they had fought together. Billy’s eyes grew heavy, lulled by the rhythm of her breathing. His hand traced the curve of her hip, feeling the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingertips. The weight of the day’s events slipped away, and he allowed himself to sink into the comfort of her embrace.

In the quiet of the night, their bond grew stronger, fueled by the fire of their shared passion and the ironclad resolve to bring Rachel to justice. Billy knew that the final confrontation was approaching, and he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. But as he lay there with Mrs. Flynn in his arms, he felt ready for whatever lay ahead.

The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Billy gently extricated himself from her embrace, slipping into his clothes and making his way to the sheriff’s office. The town was still asleep, but he could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of the battles to come.

When the others arrived, the room was filled with the low murmur of voices and the clink of spurs. Billy took his place at the head of the table, looking around at the faces that had become so familiar over the past week. Each man had a story etched into the lines of their faces, each one a testament to their hard-fought survival in this unforgiving land.

Jake’s eyes met Billy’s, and there was a spark of excitement in them that hadn’t been there before. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. “Billy,” he began, his voice steady. “I talked to my mom last night, my mom had some news.”

The room went quiet, all eyes on Jake. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Rachel’s got ties with General Juan Manuel Gutiérrez, the one who runs the protection racket around Mexico.” The air thickened with tension, the gravity of this revelation sinking into every man present.

Hunter leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness. “El Condora,” he murmured, stroking his beard. “That’s a tough nut to crack.”

The room grew tense as the implications of Jake’s words sank in. General Juan Manuel Gutiérrez was not just any bandit leader; he was the Mexican Governor of El Condora province, a man with the power and resources to make Rachel’s reign of terror seem like a mere trifle. The rebels looked at each other, their eyes betraying a mix of fear and determination. This was no longer just about Old Mesa; this was about taking down a man whose influence stretched across borders.