Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I picked up my tray, the drinks on top crashing to the floor, and I belted him upside the head. “No one touches me without permission, you got that, you piece of shit?” I wound up the tray like a baseball bat, ready for another home run. “Darnit. You made me cuss. I promised Mamma I’d stop.”
Tall Guy stumbled back, cupping the side of his head. Blood trickled down his cheek. “You fucking cunt. I’ll kill you.”
“Boy, you say one more word, and this entire bar is gonna take turns washing out your mouth. With the heels of their boots.” I jerked my head over my shoulder. I knew the patrons had stopped what they were doing because, despite the loud music, they’d heard me screaming, and people in this town didn’t appreciate bassholes like him messing with people like me.
I turned my head slightly so Joe could hear me. “Call the sheriff.”
“Dude, let’s go,” said one of Tall Guy’s friends with cropped dark hair. “You’re getting married tomorrow. The last thing you need is jail time.”
Someone actually wanted to marry this dirty pile of molasses?
“Shut the fuck up,” Tall Guy replied. “Trailerparkpussy don’t scare me.” He turned and looked down at me. “You think a sheriff can protect you, bitch?”
His friend stepped between us, digging out a wad of cash and shoving it into my hand. “Here. For your trouble and the drinks, miss.”
I kept my eyes on Tall Guy, not acknowledging the money. “I’d leave if I were you. Before this gets ugly—Leiper’s Fork kind of ugly.”
Tall Guy stepped closer, hovering over his friend’s shoulder. “What are you going to do, cunt? Cream some more on my finger?” He popped his index finger into his mouth and sucked. “Tastes pretty stale. Like it’s been recycled by rednecks a few hundred times.”
Suddenly, I found myself eyeing the shards of glass on the floor. How hard would it be to pick one up and stab this son of a Bisquick in the eye?
Joe appeared, sliding an arm between me and these guys like a roadblock. “Gentlemen, the police station is one block over. Which means you have ten seconds to leave. And the sheriff? He don’t swing like a girl. Neither do I.”
Gee. Thanks, I thought. Because going by the blood on Tall Guy’s face, I swung like a champ.
“I’ll see you again real soon, Trailerparkpussy.” Tall Guy turned and headed for the door, his moronic posse of Cromags trailing behind him.
I snarled and watched the guys walk out, half of them stumbling over themselves as they left. Tall Guy, though, he stopped and locked eyes on me, a promise in his glare. This wasn’t over.
Joe scooped up the bills from the floor and began counting. “At least they paid.”
I was still frozen with balled fists, my eyes fixed to the front door. Part of me hoped Tall Guy would come back in so I could watch Sheriff Idiot arrest him. The other part didn’t want to see him ever again.
Suddenly, a cold gust of air slammed into the side of my head.
I pressed my palm to the spot and winced. “Baby jumping Jesus.”
“You okay?” Deedee came up.
I couldn’t move. The sensation was like having a shard of cold steel spiked into my skull.
“I’m going to go get the plate numbers for the sheriff,” said Joe to Deedee. “You stay with Masie.”
“Masie, you don’t look so good.” Deedee tugged at my arm. “What did those boys do to you?”
I pried open my eyes, my gaze pulling toward a shadowy figure in the corner of the bar. A man with a predatory gaze sat staring. I couldn’t make out all the details of his face, but I could tell he had long dark hair, thick black lashes, and pale eyes.
We locked gazes for a moment, and then he looked away, as if completely disinterested in me or the commotion.
“Let’s get you some water. You can chill in Jimmie’s office.” Deedee led me by the arm through the kitchen into the back, but my mind was still out front with thoughts of that man.
CHAPTER FOUR
Just after one a.m., the sheriff waltzed in. Joe had insisted on staying, but I made him leave ten minutes early to get ready for his big “date.” After the altercation, most of the patrons went home anyway. Something about those nasty boys left behind a bad vibe, so I was about to close up early. No use in Joe sticking around.
“Hey, Masie,” said the sheriff, taking a seat at the bar and removing his brown cowboy hat. “We combed through town and put out an APB on those men. Nothing’s turned up, so I’m gonna assume they went on their way.”
I raised my brows, drying the clean glasses from the back and stowing them neatly under the counter. “Good riddance.”