Assassin Read Free Page B

city like New York or
maybe even a smaller one like Newark, Delaware. No, he knew he was going to a
small town. But did it have to be surrounded by trees like this? What’s the population
total of this tiny place, anyway? And how is he supposed to get any tale here
when all the women are probably delightful little Catholic girls that hate men
like Troy Red?
    Well not men like Troy Red, but men like him .
    “What the Hell am I supposed to do here anyway? Don’t tell
me I’m going to be shoveling up cow shit. If you say I am, I will go back to
Los Angeles and turn myself in to the mob bosses!” Moonlight Rogers just turns
a sickening smile on Troy and takes one of the dirty roads leading away from
the town. His little mini-cooper barely makes it up the hill and gets stuck a
few times. Troy feels dread building up in his lower abdomen as they finally
near a farm, and he almost screams when he sees where he’ll be living for the
rest of his life.
    Not if I have any say in it.
    “Take me home.” He is gripping the dashboard with both
hands.
    “Oh, Troy Red, but you are home!” Mr. Rogers throws his head
back and laughs with sadistic mirth as his eyes close. He’s holding his stomach
by the time his laughing fit is over as if it hurts him, and Troy wishes he
could grabs this man’s scrawny neck and ring it like the chickens he’s going to
have to deal with. He would be shocked if this place didn’t have
chickens.
    “Fuck you, Moonie Rogers, fuck you.” He slams open the door
to the car and kicks it shut with a boot. Troy Red loses control, even though
the man he was before never showed this much emotion.
    The sound of a horse nickering in a nearby barn makes Troy’s
heart slam behind his ribcage. Will he be expected to clean up stalls? The
thought makes his skin crawl more than the thought of having to clean up a man’s
guts off the floor. He’s done that more times than he’d like to admit, but it
was just his job.
    “Hurry up before the kid wakes up.” His skin seems to frost
over as Moonlight Rogers mentions the word kid. He’s expected to live with a
child? But then he hears it. It’s the sound of a goat bellowing in the night,
and he almost resorts to tears.
    “Please, please don’t leave me in this craphole! Please!”
But Moonlight is ignoring his pleas as he knocks on the door to the small,
quaint farmhouse. It’s one of those houses with white siding and blue shutters.
It’s the kind that has a dark blue front door with a brass knocker on it, and a
doorbell on the doorframe. The front lawn is manicured, but beyond that it’s a
few large fields, and some trees.
    The man who opens up the door reminds Troy of the classic
mountain man. His hair is silver and thick, tied back into a neat ponytail, and
he bets it goes down past his shoulder blades. That’s about all Troy can see
because the light is coming from the house behind the stranger. Swallowing the
insidious fear that he will be stuck here for an eternity, Troy stares at the man.
    They’re standing about twenty-five feet apart, with Troy
still by the mini-cooper. But he can still hear the old man as clear as day.
    “So that’s the asshole that’s stayin’ with me?” Mr. Rogers
turns around and motions for Troy to approach, but for a moment he thinks about
stealing the car and driving all the way home. It’s the fear of death that
makes him walk forward.
    “I’m the asshole who’s staying with you.” Troy tries
to make a point about the English language, but the old man doesn’t seem fazed.
He looks his new house guest up and down as if he’s looking at a foal at
auction, and grunts.
    “He’ll do, I guess. What’s his name?” Before Moonlight can
answer for him, Troy pipes up.
    “It’s Troy Red, and I don’t know what you have planned for
me, but I’m not cleaning up horse shit.” Mr. Rogers clears his throat before
the man can respond and shakes hands with the hillbilly from Hell.
    “I’ll leave you two to get to know