Sorry about the huge wait, college caught up with me and new story ideas invaded my mind and stole my focus. But I won't leave this story hanging, I enjoy writing it even though the structure of it and the poetics are a bit difficult at times. So I hope you enjoy, as always thank you for reading.

Also, this chapter takes place from episode 1x11 to 2x01.

Lottie May didn't begin orchestrating Bo Crowder's demise immediately after his release. She'd been quite happy to see him, threw her arms around his neck let him lift her off her feet. And then she told him how she kept busy the past five years; gave him the list of names, cooks, dealers, buyers, all the drug business in Harlan – she didn't have a hand in everything, not if she wanted to stay under law enforcement's radar, but she had enough of a hand to keep cash flowing enough to make up for the shit job Arlo did on collections. But what Bo had been more pleased to hear was her keeping in touch with his 'friends' in Miami – sending money their way as a means to include them in their business, and with Hunter Mosley now behind bars and Bo now released the cartel was happy to start up the old business. She even raised the price, playing nice where Bo hadn't. She lived up to everything Bo had raised her to be, had spent so many years teaching her the ropes; he'd given a holler of a laugh before he swept her in his arms again.

"I knew I could count on you, Lottie," he exclaimed setting her down and cupping her sweet face, planting a sloppy kiss on her round cheek.

Lottie May had done everything. She tracked down every wiff of drugs, coerced amicably and physically with most of the dealers and suppliers, stuck her neck on the line contacting Gio Reyes, stayed in the shadow of local police, and kept money coming in. She'd done everything.

And then he dismissed her. He sat in the office of Johnny's bar with his dumbass goons feelin like the king of Harlan and she, Lottie May his honest-to-god godsend who did a better job runnin things than he ever had, was nothin more than his squire. "You sit down Johnny, Lottie can see to the bar."

He hadn't even looked at her, she'd been nothin but a passing thought as a means to get what he really wanted – another dick in the conversation, cause god forbid a woman with her breasts and hormones and emotions was in any way competent. So Bo didn't see the look in her black eyes, didn't feel the extent of the fire he'd ignited – by the time he realized what he'd done it was too late to soothe her with kind words and empty promises, he was already headin for Bulletville.

…

Lottie May and Boyd Crowder had a relationship fitting of backwoods Kentucky; one part siblings, two parts occasional lovers, and the remaining parts spent silently envious of the other when it came to 'daddy'. But they were all around friends, protective, loyal, understanding.

Until Boyd's most recent excursion to God – she saw him once after he'd been released and not even five minutes past she was ready to strangle God's word outta his mouth. He'd quoted Revelation, compared Lottie May to the Scarlet Woman representing lust and idolatry – Harlan her many waters, the golden cup in her hand not filled with abomination and fornication as said in scripture but rather opium and death – he wasn't quite certain the Scarlet Beast who would destroy her in the end, but he had a guess it too might be Lottie May.

It'd been several days turned weeks and the last thing she'd said to him was if she heard another religious word outta his hypocritical and delusional mouth she might find herself inclined to cut out his tongue. And it was no matter that she'd come to him, that she pulled her car into the middle of his camp and left it running as she climbed out to talk to Boyd only. She gave no impression of respect nor allusion that she wanted him to do her dirty work. Soon as he came round the tent she told him, "I don't wanna hear a word outta you but yes." His jaw had spasmed as he grit his teeth, his not quite brown eyes blazed – but he held his tongue, seeing in her gaze a wrathful desire. "If you were to get word the details of Bo's next shipment would it be intercepted 'fore it reached Bo?"

Boyd had never understood what his daddy meant when he said the Givens girl, his girl, was a loose cannon that could not live without a man holdin' her reigns. But he understood then, there was no self in front of her destructive she was just chaos and ruin, and those sights were now set on his daddy and Boyd realized most of her life Bo spent tryin to hold her down. Only Lottie May wasn't an animal, there would be no tamin this wild thing, and she very much would bite the hand that fed her – 'specially if that hand only used her for his doin and then told her she didn't matter, 'specially if she loved that man more than she ever loved her own father and so his indifference turned her rabid.
Boyd saw in her dark eyes a woman who'd finally decided it was enough. The part of him closest to brother, separate from God cause brothers and sisters didn't do the things they'd done, wanted to tell her 'it don't have to be like this Mayflower,' and the other part of him that was indistinguishable from her wanted to say, 'it's about damn time kid.' But what he actually said, swallowing his religious words on striking evil from the world that he so very much wanted to say cause he wanted her to feel the salvation he found – doin as she said cause the moment God slipped from his tongue she'd climb back in her car and drive away – what he said was, "Yes."

And there it was, the beautiful curling of a devious smile that had his hair standing on end with the fear of it ever being flashed in his name; his daddy must've thought the same thing a hundred times before without ever really knowing how interchangeable her loyalty was. A thought crossed his mind as he watched the swing of her hips as she walked back to her car; Lottie May had the face of a woman plucked from the heavens and a spirit carved from the flesh of Satan. His efforts, righteous as they may be, were in vain – she was a godless woman.

…

Lottie May's next stop was Johnny Crowder, or rather she was his cause she found him in his truck waitin in her driveway. "Evenin Johnny," she greeted letting him into her house and getting them both a beer. "Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I'm real sorry bout how things went back there," Johnny told her taking a large swig out of his bottle when her lightless eyes found his. "I tried tellin Bo the only reason there's still a business is cause of you. But you know he's stubborn as a bull, that man is set in his belief."

Her hum of agreement silenced him, knowing exactly why he was there and it was for the very same reason she'd planned on seeing him later. "Pussy's good for one thing and it ain't runnin no business," she said knowing most men in Harlan thought the same thing – and most of those men had a backbone in the shape of a woman who'd born to take shit like a man.

"You know I don't think that," Johnny said seein' her nod, not knowing the thoughts in her head or he might've run back to Bo while he could still run. "When Boyd and I used to talk about takin over you were always the one with the plan to do it, you're smarter than the rest of us Lottie."

A wry grin pulled at the corner of her mouth softening his own face. "It don't take much to be the smartest in Harlan County."

He chuckled at her dry insulting humor, any idea he'd ever had of taking up Bo's business had and would continue to always include Lottie Givens. "I know you went to see Boyd," he told her. "If anyone can bring that boy back to reality it'd be you. And if you've gotta plan I want in."

Downing the rest of her beer she turned to the sink and rinsed the bottle, taking the time to fabricate a plan to get him onboard cause she knew exactly what she wanted from him. Turning back to him and leaning on the counter she said, "We'll take the next shipment that comes in, Miami will be non too pleased with Bo when it disappears and when he falls we'll pick up. And since Mr. Reyes thinks I'm a little country bumpkin that needs explainin to half the time he'd never have to worry bout me gettin ideas like Bo had five years ago."

Johnny would've needed a knife to smile wider than the one that split his face. "Shit Lottie," he explained staring down at her smug pretty face, "you really are smarter than us."

She raised a shoulder pushing off from the counter and headed to her room. "My brain's not competing with my dick for blood," she said hearing him laugh before she began to undress, and then it was enraptured silence as his eyes trailed the length of her body before she stepped into a dress. "I got dinner with momma and Arlo, take me to dinner tomorrow we'll talk more," she said looking over her shoulder with a poised brow to find his eyes still on her hips. And there it was, the reason she would always question how men could run the world when they were so easily distracted.

An hour and a half later she and her momma were walkin the neighborhood to avoid a nosey Arlo, a cigarette in Helen's hand and a beer bottle half full of bourbon in Lottie May's. She told her momma everything; she had Boyd goin one way to blow up the shipment, Johnny another thinking they were gonna take the supplies and use them, and soon Bo who'd have his eye on Johnny after she told Bo her 'suspicions', and they'd all meet her in the middle and she'd end up with what she wanted. Or at least what Lottie May thought she wanted cause if she stopped to think she wouldn't want Bo or Johnny dead – which is what she was planning – but she'd always been quick tempered and impulsive and she wasn't gonna stop.

"You think Imma fool?" Lottie May asked her mother.

"I think you're playin a dangerous game, baby," Helen answered taking a long drag of her cigarette. "Bo Crowder's had a bullet comin for years, I never thought it'd have your name on it," she sighed regretfully.

Lottie May looked at the setting sun, at the horizon bleeding as the sky fell apart and the stars came out to dance to the cricket's song – it was her favorite time, a secret life that awakened while everyone went to sleep. "I'll get Raylan to do it if I can find the reason," she said letting her words slip away into the twilight. Lottie May was a conductor, Bo's death the title of her composition, Boyd, Johnny, Raylan, even Arlo, were the musicians she was orchestrating into grand symphonies that only days later would sound to her like the meaning of regret. The unmaking of Bo Crowder was at the hands of the girl who loved him best. And she turned to her momma like a small child and asked, "do you regret I'm your daughter?"

Blowing her smoke thoughtfully into the cooling air Helen shook her head and wound her fingers around her daughter's hand. "You were made for more than this," Helen told her feeling Lottie's hand like it was a living thing aching to be free, "and you will never be satisfied." That would always be Lottie May's downfall, her need for something to always be happening – making mountains outta molehills for the agony of the climb and the reward of jumping off the edge. "My biggest regret's not sendin you with Raylan, give you more than Bo Crowder and this shit-forsaken place."

Helen squeezed her hand before letting it go, and Lottie May felt the loss of her mother's hand as painfully as she had as a child – as though she could still remember being ripped from her mother's womb reaching for the parts of her that were left behind.

…

It didn't unfold all at once, she schemed with Johnny illustrating lies about how takin this shipment would be the best damn thing – they'd take over the business and make themselves millionaires. It was no matter she didn't mean it, that she didn't so much care for the money cause a hundred thousand to her was the same as a million. It was never about the money for Lottie May, that's why she different, why she was dangerous, it was the thrill of knowin she'd die if any part of the plan fell through and every breath she breathed she was a glorious miracle cause she was still alive. The money was an added bonus, the power was even bigger and she wanted it all. It was the satisfaction of reaping the reward, of playin everyone including those on her side, and when she came out the other side with her hands fuller than anyone else – Lottie May was why hurricanes bore the names of people.

She cracked open her aunt's bible found some good verses to quote to Boyd, visited his camp under the guise of questioning the meaning of her life – and he was so happy to accept her unable to see her dishonesty but knowing her well enough it was there. He poured his soul onto her, tried to fill her so full of God and mercy she'd drown, but she'd drowned long ago at the hand of her daddy and any ounce of faith she might've had was washed outta her.

She came round for the sole purpose of gathering information to give to her brother, throwing tidbits of Bo's doings in with it, warning him against trusting Arlo as a snitch – and when he asked why, cause Raylan would never stop questioning her motives not when she was a Givens, she told him 'you asked what he was doin, so I'm findin out.' And he didn't swallow it all at once, sittin with her in diners or restaurants askin about her day and listening to what she'd 'overheard' at the bar he was so slowly filled with warmth for this girl who looked like him. He laughed, he told her about Florida, about Winona, he became the brother he'd forgotten he was – and he didn't know her well enough but in everything she was doing being with him was when she was at her most honest.
"I remember you now," she'd told him one evening. "I had this memory of Arlo gettin me orange juice most mornins, makin me oatmeal, and it never made sense cause Arlo never did shit for me. But it was you." She stared at his handsome face, at the blemish under his eyes, his sharp jaw, this beautiful man somehow she'd remember him. "I'd follow you onto the porch when you'd leave, I gave you two kisses,"
"One for each cheek," he'd finished smiling gently at the memory he didn't realize he had. He stared at her then in the yellow-hued light of the restaurant, all cheekbones and beauty, and he could imagine twenty years bein with her watching her grow up – making sure she did it right. It wasn't until that night he realized how truly he'd failed, and how much she'd had to pay for it. "If I do leave again, would you have any thoughts of joinin me?"
She stared at him so surprised he even thought to ask, at seeing the earnestness in his sweet eyes, at the realization of what it meant to have someone besides her mother care – it was hot, it smothered, it weighed on her shoulders stronger than gravity. "I guess we'll find out when you ask."

Dealin with Bo was by far the hardest part of her plan , and by default the most exhilarating. She was askin him to trust her over his kin, giving him her suspicions that Johnny was up to something with his many visits to Boyd's camp, and he very well might've confronted Johnny and the whole thing woulda blown in her face. But she'd drawn her shoulders in said Johnny couldn't be workin with Boyd cause Johnny was with them, he was a good man and if they were really concerned they could just ask him what he was doing. And as she'd known Bo told her, "this is why you need me, darlin, you're too soft. If that boy's lookin to take me down he's lookin at you too, and you remember what I told you?" he asked referring to the time he'd promised her he'd keep her safe.
"Always carry a gun?"
A grin cracked wide on his round face and he gave a hearty laugh proclaiming how much he'd missed her, sitting with her alone in the dead of night when all but the nocturnal were asleep it was easy for him to be sweet. And she pressed a kiss to his cheek, cutting the corner of his mouth, let it linger. Let him feel her mouth so close to his, let ideas gather in his mind of what could be – what should be cause if the past several days taught him anything it was that shit didn't get done as fast or well as if his girl was doin it for him. And when she had him so fully wrapped around her finger she pulled away, kissed his wide nose, sent him back to business dealin with the mess Boyd made blowing up the shipment and Johnny who he thought betrayed him, kept her plan in motion. Soon as Bo released the Mexicans Gio Reyes had sent with the shipment Lottie May gave them the address to Bo's cabin in Bulletville.

It wasn't until after, after her daddy was shot by Raylan, Johnny was shot by Bo, Boyd was shot by a Mexican, and Bo was killed by the Mexican - all events she had orchestrated into motion – not til after all that, did she realized what she'd done. And it was then, sitting alone on a bed that smelled like Bo wearing nothing but one of his old shirts and drinking the last of his whiskey, did her symphony reach its final melancholy act.