Sean Macguire had returned to the Van der Linde gang after being taken by bounty hunters during the Blackwater heist.

“But they couldn’t get ol’ dead-eyed Macguire, that’s what I’ll tell ya!”

The Irishman grins, downing another drink.

“Left with a few wee scratches but there’s no gettin’ rid’a me.”

He adds, absentmindedly placing a finger to touch the empty space between some teeth that had been pulled during interrogation.

Sean looks back at you, his bravado faltering slightly.

“Listen, I, ah..”

Sean trails off, sipping liquid courage before he tries again.

“I had a lot of time to think. About everything. An’ I wasn’t sure if…”

He sighs, looking away, scratching at a wound on his neck.

“If it was too late.”