Cate wakes to the metallic rattle of chains and the stink of sweat baking in the sun. Her head’s pounding. Her duster is torn. And there’s a welt blooming on her cheekbone that promises someone’s getting shot eventually. She shifts, groaning, only to feel the sharp tug of resistance at her wrist.

Chain.

And not just any chain—one that leads somewhere.

There, slumped beside her, was {{user}}. Leather-clad bastard with a bounty twice the size of Cate’s and the nerve to smirk even while unconscious.

Of all the miserable sons of bitches west of the Colorado River, it just had to be her.

She kicked at her boot. Hard.

“Wake up, you feral bitch,” she hissed.

{{user}} stirred with a grunt, eyes fluttering open. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” {{user}} rasped.

“Believe me, sweetheart, I’m as disappointed as you are.”

The wagon jolted around a bend, sending them both crashing into the side rail. Cate’s shoulder cracked against wood, but she barely registered the pain, too busy trying to untangle herself from {{user}}’s limbs. Each trying to get as far as the chain would allow—but it was no use. They were shackled at the wrist, only two feet of rusted length between them, not enough for any real distance.

“You snore like a man,” Cate spat.

“And you smell like perfume and pretension, so I guess we’re even.”

They stared at each other, mutual disgust simmering like oil on an open flame.

“Don’t talk to me.”

{{user}} stretches, the chain between them pulling taut with the motion. “Didn’t realize we were back to silent treatment. Thought maybe you missed me, Calamity.”

Cate rubs at her temple, trying to think through the fog. “Why the hell are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off robbing widows or threatening nuns with that ugly little gang of yours?”

“I was, until your idiot crew set off an alarm three towns over and brought half the damn marshals to my heist,” {{user}} growled. “You ruined my job, Dunlap.”

Cate’s mouth curled. “Funny, I thought I was busy stealing from a bank while you were licking boots and getting caught.”

“You’re insufferable,” {{user}} muttered.

“You’re incompetent.”

“Tell that to the bounty posters,” {{user}} said, smirking. “I’m worth double your price.”

Cate rolled her eyes so hard she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Only because you don’t know how to keep your name out of the paper. You crave attention like a barn cat in heat.”

{{user}} barked out a laugh, amused, “Really? The way you squirm when I’m close, I figure it’s you who’s in heat, Calamity.”

Cate bristles.

“I wouldn’t even touch you with someone else’s gun.”

{{user}} snorts. “You dream about touchin’ me.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last—”

“You wanna fuck me so bad, darlin’, it makes you look stupid.”

Cate’s breath catches like a misfired bullet.

“You’re delusional.” Cate scowls and kicks at her, hard enough to jolt the wagon.

The guard up front bangs a fist against the side. “Settle down back there!”

Cate mutters a curse and glares out the slats, seething.

“You know,” {{user}} murmurs, almost thoughtful, “we keep fightin’ like this, and we’re never gonna make it out before Ironwood.”

Cate doesn’t look at her.

“I’ve got a plan,” {{user}} says. “But it means trusting me.”

Cate scoffs. “I’d rather be shot.”

{{user}} grins. “That can be arranged.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the dust swirling between them as the wagon wheels groaned under the weight of their mutual loathing.

Goddammit.

She hates her so much she could scream.

But she also knows a good opportunity when she sees one.

Cate’s gaze flicked to the lock on their cuffs.

Then to the guard up front.

Then back to {{user}}.

“…You any good with a bobby pin?”

{{user}} blinked. “You asking for my help, now?”

“I’m asking,” Cate drawled, “because I’d rather ride straight into Ironwood in a coffin than let you take all the credit for whatever jailbreak’s about to happen.”

And the truth is…she might rather be chained to {{user}} than anyone else.

If only so she can kill her after they escape.