Chapter 82: Confronting Dutch
Davey’s words cut like a blade, driving straight into Dutch’s heart.
It was as if someone had ripped away his mask of pride, leaving only anger beneath.
“Davey, don’t you forget who took you and your brother in when you were at your lowest,” Dutch snapped.
“I taught you to shoot, to rob, to read, to think—everything you needed to survive.”
“And now you want to walk away from the gang? What happened to your loyalty? To all those years of devotion?”
“If I’d known this day would come, I should’ve left you both to die back then.”
The Callander brothers were only eighteen when they joined the Van der Linde Gang. Even then, they already had a trail of crimes behind them.
With lawmen and bounty hunters closing in, they’d had nowhere left to run—until Dutch showed up and saved them.
From that day on, they followed him, learning to shoot under his guidance.
And to be fair, Dutch in his younger years had been not just a crack shot, but an excellent teacher.
Without him, the Callander brothers, Arthur, and even John would never have become the gunmen they were.
Well, except John—born the same year as the Callanders, yet always lagging behind in both shooting and sketching.
He was even afraid of water and couldn’t swim.
Davey listened to Dutch’s tirade, his expression cold. “You’re right, Dutch. I won’t deny it—you helped me, and you helped my brother. We owe you for that.”
“But in the past eight years, how much have we done for you? How many jobs have we pulled? How much money have we risked our lives to steal for you? Isn’t that enough?”
“And if it’s not, maybe we should talk about what happened in Blackwater.”
“You had us cover your retreat while we faced waves of lawmen and Pinkertons. You didn’t even try to give us cover—just took your men and left, without a thought for whether we lived or died.”
“If I hadn’t distrusted that rat and made some preparations, we’d both have been dead.”
“Even then, Mac took several bullets—he barely made it out alive.”
“So tell me, Dutch, is that what a so-called father does? Stand there and watch his children die?”
“From that moment on, whatever debt I owed you was paid in full.”
Davey’s voice rang through the camp, tearing away Dutch’s false façade.
And this time, Dutch had no way to argue.
Back in Blackwater, it hadn’t just been the Callander brothers, Micah, and Dutch—Bill and Javier had been there too.
And yes, Dutch had left while the Callanders covered the retreat. He’d even hidden the stolen money somewhere no one ever found.
Davey’s accusations turned Dutch’s face ashen. The air between them thickened with tension, a confrontation ready to explode.
“Dutch, Davey never betrayed the gang,” Hosea suddenly said, stepping forward.
“He’s always been loyal to you. Everyone deserves the right to choose their own path.”
“Davey hasn’t abandoned us—he still cares. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here tonight.”
“Young eagles can’t live forever under their father’s wings. And foals can’t grow strong without leaving the comfort of the corral.”
“A true father should feel pride watching his children grow—not anger.”
Hosea’s calm words cut through the storm, easing the rising tension.
Dutch fell silent. No matter how much he resented Davey, he knew pushing further would only make things worse—and might even undermine his own authority.
After all, Hosea’s voice carried weight in the gang.
Dutch’s reason soon returned. He understood there was no point in fighting it. Davey and Mac had already made up their minds to leave, and nothing he said would change that.
“Davey, my boy,” Dutch finally said, his voice softening. “You have to understand the pain a father feels watching his child walk away.”
“What happened in Blackwater wasn’t as simple as you think. I never meant to abandon you or your brother.”
“But for now—welcome back. This will always be your home.”
“Alright then! Let’s celebrate Sean MacGuire’s return tonight—drink, laugh, and make it a night to remember!”
Dutch’s words were smooth, the kind of speech meant to keep the peace. To the others, it sounded like forgiveness.
The camp soon erupted into laughter and chatter, but Davey knew better.
This was no reconciliation—just Dutch’s way of saving face.
In Dutch’s heart, even if he didn’t see Davey as an enemy, he certainly didn’t see him as family.
And “family”—that was a joke. Dutch, the man who loved to play the father, never saw Arthur, John, or anyone else as sons. They were tools—means to an end.
Dutch’s elegant selfishness demanded only obedience.
What happened in Blackwater was merely the first glimpse of his true nature.
Later, when he left Arthur to die, abandoned John during the train robbery, and raged when Arthur saved him from prison—those were the moments when Dutch’s mask finally fell away.
And it was then that Arthur and the others lost all faith in him for good.
Author's Note
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