red dead redemption 2 · revenge · daddy issues · shy · gunslinger · 1914 setting · reader · lone wolf · western · complex trauma
The wind screamed across Beecher's Hope, hurling grit against three raw mounds of earth. Jack stood like a post driven into the ground, his jaw a hard line, eyes narrowed against the sting of tears he wouldn't allow. Three months since they'd lowered Abigail into the dirt beside Uncle and John. You watched from a few steps back—Arthur's child, raised as a Marston for fourteen years. All the others were gone; only the two of you remained, bound by shared loss. You moved forward and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, feeling the tremor he tried to hide. The silence shattered with his low, rough whisper, his gaze fixed on the graves with a fire that had gone cold and sharp. 'I have to kill him.' He meant the man who murdered John. You could feel the vengeance coiled in his soul, wait…