"We're getting drinks after this, right?" Jo asked as the pair scaled the steps leading towards Winona's sister's house. "Because I'm really not interested in rocking chairs."
Raylan's head swiveled towards her and offered a look that simply stated, obviously.
Ahead, the double doors painted an ostentatious juniper green stood slightly ajar. Raylan's shoulders stiffened in recognition, but he rang the bell and knocked twice in favor of strutting through the open crack.
No answer was received, so the Marshal stuck his head through the doorway and called, "Gayle! Winona!" Again, there was no answer, so the duo hesitantly entered the premises, Jo properly latching the door in their wake.
"You guys left the, uh..." his voice tapered off upon seeing that a bearded man with a gun stood waiting on the steps.
While Raylan's raised eyes appraised him, she noted a second man with a buzz cut coming from behind, his weapon already brandished towards them.
Jo realized she wasn't getting those drinks anytime soon.
"You must be Raylan," the man atop the stairs commented. Shit, that meant they'd been anticipating his arrival, but certainly not her accompaniment. Raylan's gaze shifted between the two firearms before catching her eye; they shared a steely nod.
"Raylan," the first man called, demanding the return of his attention. "Let's talk about how to keep this from being the worst day of your life." The words were ominous, and they would have been fear-inducing given the right audience.
The pseudo siblings weren't the right audience, not for such gratuitous threats.
The twosome allowed themselves to be herded upstairs without a word. Although, words need not be shared between the brother and sister. Raylan observed every finite detail as they moved, and Jo ran through a thousand potential courses of action with each step.
She was forcibly pushed into the nursery by the burly one with a buzz cut upon arrival at their destination. "You be a good girl now," he jeered at her. She responded by narrowing her eyes before spitting in his face.
The slap that followed wasn't unexpected, and though it stung briefly across her cheek, Jo found it to be a feeble attempt. He hit like a girl.
However, allowing him to make a show of dominance had served its purpose; they'd moved onto Raylan without lingering on her.
Suck a rookie fucking mistake.
She posted up by the wall while the man who hit her frisked Raylan by the doorframe, taking possession of the one gun tucked inside his belt. Her eyes fell to Winona, who was positioned in the center of the room, perched precariously on the aforementioned rocking chair. Her eyes rimmed red with tears as mascara streaked down her face.
Her and Raylan could've had a good, old-fashioned shootout if it weren't for the pregnant woman thrown into the mix. Instead, they'd have to be particularly precious in their maneuvers to ensure mother and child made it out safely.
The burly one took the box from Raylan's arms and began appraising it. "You know this thing has night vision? "
The bearded one had taken to unpacking each individual bullet from Raylan's firearm, dispensing them onto the changing table. The paradox of such a sight, something harsh mixed with something meant to be so gentle, would ruin the sentiment of the place, Jo mused.
No matter what happened, the nursery's previous promise of whimsy would be utterly lost.
"Makes sense; I mean, how else are you gonna watch the kid sleep?" The notion brought forth a sniffle from Winona, who had a gun still steadily aimed at her head.
"When are you supposed to sleep?" The insensitive question went unanswered.
Abandoning Raylan's now useless weapon, the bearded one huffed. "You're sure this is all he had?"
The burly one took offense and answered indignantly. "'Course I'm sure. It's not like the first time I frisked a guy."
Too stupid to frisk a girl, though, Jo mocked internally, as the pair bickered pointlessly back and forth. She could feel the press of steel against her thigh where her own gun sat concealed in its holster. She just needed to wait for the right time to retrieve it.
"No wonder the Chinese are kicking our ass." The idiotic statement had her snapping back into reality. The only thing maintaining calm in the room was the gun pointed at Winona, remove that, and it would be a free for all.
"They expect you to stay up all night glued to this thing, watch the kid's chest go up and down?" The taunt came from the burly one, now swaying to and fro in the outdated rocking chair.
Winona's face was glistening with both fresh and dried tears, but she hadn't lost all vigor. "I guess they assume you'll do anything to keep your child safe." Her eyes pivoted to Raylan's, and the insinuation was clear.
He was responsible for getting them into this mess, so he was responsible for getting them out of it too.
A chorus of oohs followed, and all eyes fell to Raylan. "Girl's got some balls on her, Raylan. Threatening us without threatening us. Do you know what she said earlier?" The man in question merely hummed in response. "If we're gone before you arrive, we might live through the day."
Raylan smirked with some measure of pride. "Well, that's why I love her." The attempt at reassurance was sweet, although the show of optimism did nothing to satiate Winona's worry.
The goons detailed their elaborate plan based on the movie The Friends of Eddie Coyle or whatever. Jo was too young to understand the reference but found the idea stupid regardless.
They wanted Drew Thompson aka Shelby, and they thought Raylan could get him. Everyone else was collateral in their mission to pacify the boys from Detroit.
"We're gonna rob Shelby?" Raylan's sarcasm earned him a smack to match Jo's, the ever-present cowboy hat tumbling from his head with the force.
Winona jolted in her seat at the sight, but Jo remained stark still. "Hey. Asshole. How's he gonna get us into the safe house if it looks like he's just been worked over?" The leader commented.
While the burly one was chastised for his impulsive action, Jo followed Raylan's eyesight as it took in the gun resting in the other man's belt. She could almost see the plan forming via a thought bubble extending from her brother's head.
"You're gonna take us to where you're keeping Shelby. Get whoever's guarding him to open the door. Then we're going to go in and do what needs doing. Cobb will stay here with Miss Hawkins and your friend," his head inclined to Jo, utterly unaware of her real significance to the Marshal.
"Anything goes wrong, he kills Miss Hawkins. Slow. Maybe tears the baby out, kills it separate. Then he can have some fun with the one that's left." Raylan's scowl deepened with each word out of the bearded man's mouth.
Turning, the man with all the threats addressed Winona. "How'd he blow it with you anyway?" Her head lifted slowly and held a bewildered look.
"Oh, you'll understand if I'm not really in a sharing place right now," she bit back though her voice wavered.
The man took several steps closer to the pregnant woman. "Oh, man. Don't tell me he stepped out on you. Was it with her?" Again, he gestured toward Jo, and three faces simultaneously scrunched in disgust at the accusation.
"I'm not gonna tell you anything," Winona pressed through another round of tears.
Before she could be accosted further, Raylan stepped in to draw the attention away from his ex-wife. "I'm afraid you're wasting your time. I can't help you. All you boys can do now is make things worse for yourselves. If I were you, I'd drop my gun, lay down on my tummy, and put my hands behind my head."
The tension in the room became so thick you could cut it with a knife. "You would, huh?" The ringleader questioned, his chin raised high in defiance. Jo's hand slowly inched her skirt up in anticipation.
Raylan continued, "I would if I were you. If I were him, I'd just work on reading that little book without having to move my lips."
Everything happened at once.
The burly one lunged forward to punch Raylan in the gut, revenge for the perceived slight.
Once close enough, Raylan ripped the gun from his assailant's waistband and fired two shots into his chest, streams of blood shooting out his back where the bullets exited.
Jo ripped her skirt the rest of the way up and upholstered her weapon. She took one shot at the man behind Winona, Cobb, hitting him right in the apricot. Blood splattered the adjacent wall as he fell to the floor motionless, his weapon tumbling to the ground beside his corpse.
Raylan too fell to the carpet under the weight of the dead body now pressing against him.
Winona screamed as the last man grabbed her, positioning himself entirely behind her with the firearm now pointed at her protruding belly. "Think it through, now. Huh? Even if you get me, it won't solve your problem. You think this beard makes me Santa? I'm an elf. You don't get me to Shelby, all of you, them, the baby, you're all on Nicky's list. Marked for life. Huh?"
Raylan didn't dignify him with an answer. He remained stout with an arm extended, gun aimed at the ready.
The ensuing silence unnerved the outgunned man. "All right." He brandished his weapon to shoot Raylan on the floor, but Winona got him first, shooting him in the thigh with the gun she claimed from Cobb. The man stumbled backward as his pants seeped red.
Winona fell beside Raylan, and they both began unloading their clips into the man who jostled with each hit.
The gurgling sound of blood bubbled from the man's throat. Dogs were heard barking outside. The remaining three heaved heavy breaths from the exertion.
They'd live to see another day.
It was a fucking spectacle outside, and Jo knew Winona had to be mortified as her sister's home become overrun with police, Marshals, and EMTs. All the clowns had shown up to participate in this particular circus.
One such clown was AUSA David Vasquez; that little gremlin had a knack for showing up at the worst of times. "I'm just here to make sure the t's get dotted, and nothing happens to our case against Theo Tonin," he stated, assuring his presence extended no further than professional pretense.
Jo groaned loudly; she simply did not give a shit about their mob boss manhunt and willfully tuned them out.
What she couldn't ignore, however, was the screeching of tires as an all too familiar black SUV skidded to a halt in front of the house. "Goddammit," she bemoaned before shuffling down the walkway to head him off.
She didn't take Tim for one to cause a scene, but she hadn't been nearly killed before. Plus, their relationship had evolved recently, so there was no telling what reaction she could expect from the former Army Ranger.
He strode around the front of the vehicle, his steps burdened with purpose, until he stood before her. His face was set in a deep frown that pushed his brows together in such a way that a wrinkle appeared between them.
"Now, before you say anything-"Jo started, but it was her that didn't get the chance to say anything. Tim reached forward quickly and palmed the nape of her neck, pressing their lips together in a hard kiss.
Of all the things she'd been expecting, this public gesture wasn't it, but she allowed herself to melt into the comfort his touch offered regardless.
Pulling back, he gave her a hard once over, his hand still gripping the back of her hair. "Get your shit. We're leaving."
Tim was so enticing when he took charge that she didn't argue. She just stumbled off in a daze to retrieve her purse from Raylan's car.
"Nice PDA," her brother mocked when she passed him exiting the ambulance where Winona sat on a gurney.
She scoffed though her cheeks reddened a measure at the comment. "Bite me," she snipped, receiving a chuckle for her retort. "You're going to handle this, right?"
Raylan offered a deft nod which was all she needed. No matter what Art's warnings may have been, he wasn't going to let a threat against his family just slide.
When she returned, the car was running, and Tim was waiting in the driver's seat. "Welcome to Marshal's service protection," he quipped, and a whine fell from Jo's mouth.
"You know I hate the damsel in distress act," she bemoaned. She had been incidental to the whole thing, just an unfortunate bystander, really. There was no substantial evidence to show the Detroit boys would be coming after her in retaliation, but they had to do what they had to do, she supposed.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure he was putting them under in order to stay in control. "You can't scare me like that, Jo."
She hadn't considered being scared for herself, not in the nursery nor after, but here Tim was, worried about her enough for the both of them. She scooted closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, no, I'm fine. I even shot a guy in the apricot just like you taught me. We're good," she tried to ease his addled mind.
He took a deep breath in through his nose. "Well, at least there's that."
Jo smiled, knowing she'd gotten him back on track, at least for the time being. "Where are you taking me anyway?"
He shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb he'd so hastily parked at. "I'm taking you to mine, and you're not leaving my sight until Raylan does whatever he's got to do." She shouldn't have been surprised he knew precisely what his partner's next moves would be.
She grinned, watching his profile as the scenery passed by. "However will we pass the time?"