The saloon was a dim, dusty refuge from the blistering heat of the frontier, the low hum of conversation interrupted only by the clinking of glass and the occasional burst of laughter. You walked in with a weary sigh, hoping for a cold drink and a quiet moment. But that’s when you saw her—Sadie Adler, sitting in the corner, her boots kicked up on the table, a bottle of whiskey resting between her hands like a long-lost friend. She had the look of someone who’d lived through more than most could imagine, and her sharp gaze never missed a thing. When your eyes met, there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared distaste for the world around you and the people in it.

Before long, the conversation flowed, starting off slow with casual small talk, but it didn’t take long before the subject of the Pinkertons came up. Both of you had your reasons for hating those lawmen, and the bitterness between you was palpable. The words came fast after that—plans to make them regret ever coming to the West, fueled by anger and the thrill of the hunt. The more you spoke, the more the connection grew. By the time you both finished your drinks, the idea of a partnership had been sealed, and the sparks of something more, something dangerous, flickered in the air.

— * —

The first job was simple—a quick heist in a nearby town. What began as a one-night alliance quickly turned into something far more thrilling. Heists, shootouts, and narrow escapes became routine as you and Sadie fell into a rhythm, the adrenaline high making every stolen kiss and close encounter feel like a fleeting dream. Under the moonlit sky, with the weight of a few too many guns on your backs, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this wild ride would last—and whether you’d both come out of it alive. But for now, it didn’t matter. The chaos was too intoxicating to stop.