[ COMING SOON ]

THE NAME RAYLAN GIVENS WAS JUST THAT TO PAISLEY GRACE GIVENS - a name. A name that was signed at the bottom of birthday and Christmas cards that came in the mail every year like clockwork, hardly a single sincere word written on the paper. A name that her deceased mother used to sing the praises of.

Raylan Givens, who left Harlan, Kentucky at the age of nineteen and never came back. He didn't come back when his parents had a baby nine months later. He didn't come back when that girl was eight and needed her brother the day that their mother died. And he didn't come back any of the times he got a call that their father was temporarily locked up in jail, leaving the little girl to be taken care of by their Aunt Helen, who their father would soon marry.

Helen did it less because of love and more because she thought Paisley Grace needed a mother figure in her life.

Paisley Grace didn't think much of Raylan other than the fact that she liked when he sent her money in the mail. She'd always stuff that money underneath her floorboard to keep it away from her father, who wasn't above stealing from his daughter. She didn't take it hard - she stole from him too from time to time.

Maybe it was because nature won out in the time-tested battle of nature versus nurture, but Paisley Grace was no better than her conman father. Everyone in Harlan saw her as sweet, little, eighteen-year-old Paisley Grace Givens who was destined to get out of town and become a famous artist.

And she was that to some extent - the girl was determined to get away from Harlan and make a living with her art.

But she couldn't just afford art classes at the University of Kentucky all on her own. Other than a simple Pell Grant, she didn't apply for much scholarship money - and asking Arlo for the money was a nonstarter.

So, Paisley did what she had to do for her future. From the time she was fifteen, she worked for Bo Crowder - it was either that or selling it at Audrey's. Well, technically she worked for Johnny Crowder since Bo had been in prison since Paisley Grace was fourteen. Her job had always been the same. Enforcement and protection, though no one ever saw her face. She preferred to stay hidden in the trees and keep her nose as clean as possible - couldn't be an artist if she was in prison for murder. Not that she'd ever killed anyone, but she'd definitely left some holes in grown men.

Raylan wasn't the only Givens that was a near-perfect shot - and though the siblings had never met to test the theory, Paisley Grace had better accuracy at an increased distance. Maybe in another life, she'd have followed in her brother's footsteps and became a U.S. Marshal and been the best damn sniper in Kentucky.

But that wasn't her life. No, her life was working for the Crowders and going to class three days out of the week - the money went far, but not far enough to warrant living on campus. Besides, Paisley Grace didn't want to live in Lexington of all places, fearing she'd settle for far enough and get stuck. She'd stay in Harlan, painting away until she could finally leave all of Kentucky for good.

At least, that had been the plan.

The plan before she heard her big brother was in town.

The plan before she met Tim Gutterson.

The plan that kind of went to shit after those two occurrences.