The Black Hill Bandits (A Zak Bagans Romance)

2. Murder & Pleasers.

Chapter 2.

When we heard the gunshot – that's when we ran inside the Saloon, pulling the wood shutters back and peeking out the crooks and crannies of the shutters as we attempted to see what was happening outside the windows. Our town was home to a well known gang, that none of us messed with. Their name? The Black Hill Bandits. They had a bone to pick with everybody, and most of them ended in murder. From the windows, we saw our own gang, walking up from the north side of the road – the leader, Zachary Bagans, on his midnight black horse. They had their faces covered with black bandanas, and they wore black jackets, pants, and cowboy boots. And white button ups – their Colt handguns shining in the late afternoon sun. On the south side of the road, walking up was another well known group from a good hundred miles away. The Lawless Gang. We watched as Zachary hopped off his horse and walked to the front of his men. “I thought I told you not to come around these parts.” Zachary's voice yelled – stern as always his facial expression not leaving the poker face he had when he rode up.

“We just came for a drink,” The leader of the Lawless, Harold, smirked almost taunting Zachary, “I didn't think it would be such a hassle.” Zachary stood there, motionless and stern. “Is there a problem, Mr. Bagans?” Harold inched up a corner of his mouth, his smirk more profound now then ever.

“I would advise you to get out of my town.” Zachary yelled, putting his hand on his Colt, but not taking it out of the holster yet.

“I don't think it's going to be that easy to get us out of here,” Harold smirked. Zachary returned the smirk, and pulled out his Colt in seconds.

“I'll see you in Hell, Yolwich.” Zachary announced, pulling back the cock and pointing it at Harold. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet zipped through the space between them with a ground-shattering bang, before it hit Harold dead between the eyes. Zachary didn't so much as wince as Harold fell back on the ground, dead. The rest of the Lawless stared at Zachary, and didn't move. Zachary looked at each of them, “I advise y'all to make tracks. Get out of my town.” Within seconds, the gang was running back through the streets in the direction which they came. Zachary began walking towards the Saloon. This was the routine. Every time there was a shootout or a murder that taken place on the streets, Zachary and his gang would come to the Saloon and have themselves a few shots of Brandi and watch the girls.

We opened the shutters back up, and opened the front door back up. The saloon was open for business again. During the day, I helped out around the saloon, no – it wasn't the funnest thing to do, but it helped out money wise. But at night, I was a “female entertainer” at the Birdcage Theater down the road. I walked back behind the counter, and began serving drinks to some of the cowboys who were sitting up there. I smiled and talked to them as I was suppose to, until Zachary came up to the counter, and sat in one of the bar stools. Unfortunately, I was the only one at the bar and I had no choice but to serve the bastard. I walked to him, carrying the whiskey bottle in my hand. I leaned against the counter in front of him. “Brandi.” He announced, staring at me – before I even asked him what he was having. I stood up, nodded, and picked up a shot glass, filled it with Brandi from a glass bottle, and left him alone as he took the shot and went to dance with the girls. He barely noticed me, thank god. I didn't want to even acknowledge his presence.

Later that night, I went and switched jobs to the Birdcage Theater. I walked in, and men were already lining up and paying to get inside the theater. I walked past them, and slipped inside the theater. I walked back to the dressing area, and met some of the girls who were dressing themselves for the show tonight. “Howdy, y'all.” I smiled, waving to them.

“Hi Belle!” A girl, Charlotte, smiled, waving at me, “How's your day?”

“Absolute still.” I smiled as I pulled off my dress, and hanging it on a hook before I powered my face with makeup and had a friend do my hair. We got ready for the show, and we had to look good.

–

“Gentleman, may I introduce you to the most beautiful performers in the wild-west. Our very own dancers, The Pleasers!” The man who announced us screamed to the crowd, and when the curtains opened, the room erupted into screams as the piano player began to play. That's when I saw him – Zachary Bagans. Sitting front row with his gang, sipping on a glass full of alcohol. And he was staring right at me, the whole time on stage.

Right then, I knew I was in trouble.