Hogtied Book Tour
“We don’t need no dirty biker drug money,” the man snarled and leveled the muzzle at him.
Hammer backed away slowly.
The younger girl tugged on her father’s shirt. “Daddy, I need that money for school.”
The man looked at her and said, “We’ll manage, Julie. We always do.”
“The scholarships aren’t enough. I’ve got to take out student loans as it is.”
“Sir,” Hammer said, drawing upon the discipline and polite behavior drilled into him by eight years of service in the Marines, “I promised your daughter that we’d reimburse for the cow.”
“Steer,” the older girl corrected. She’d moved around the horse and was hosing off its other side.
“Steer,” Hammer repeated. “Seems to me that you owe me a thank-you.”
“Thanks? For what?” she screeched.
The corners of Hammer’s mouth curled in a small smile. “For making sure you got home unharmed. Riding into a rally like that was stupid.”
The old man’s bushy eyebrows rose to where his hairline used to be. “That true, Melanie? You chased that dirty biker all the way to the rally?”
“How else was I going to confront that guy who killed Buster?” she demanded.
The shotgun’s barrel dipped, but Hammer did not make the mistake of thinking it couldn’t be raised again.
“Do you realize what happens to foolish girls who wander into places like that?” the old man snapped.
“Nothing happened, Daddy.”
“Nothing happened to you this time,” Hammer corrected. “But Lowball, the guy who shot your steer, won’t forgive the insult, and it’s likely his brothers won’t either.”
“Ah, shit, Melanie. You’ve gone and gotten us into trouble with those lowlifes.”
Hammer clenched his jaws against the constant slurs, even if they could be accurately applied to too many of the men who populated the outlaw motorcycle clubs that attended the rally. However, he understood the young woman’s pride and the need to protect what belonged to her family. Every MC felt the same way.
He looked at the girl’s father and said, “You’re going to need protection for a little while, just in case Lowball’s club decides to get their revenge.”
“Revenge?” the girl snarled. “What right has he got to think that?”
“You humiliated him in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of his peers. His club’s president might think he deserved it, but he won’t--can’t—tolerate an outsider—and especially a chick—leveling punishment that is his to determine.”
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