answered his call.
He stayed on the line until the woman took all his information then went out into the yard to find Hank. No shots followed him when Hank had exited the barn. Maybe whoever had been firing left. Staying in the shelter and waiting for the police seemed cowardly.
Scanning the yard cautiously, it didn’t take long to spot him. He stood by his rig, yelling into a cell phone so loud Thom wouldn’t be surprised if the entire county could hear him.
“They shot out six of my tires.”
His rig had been the target? Why would anybody shoot at a semi? The realization added to his confidence in the decision to leave the barn. Neither he nor Hank had been in danger. Not if the person had been aiming at a truck.
“Of course I have a spare. Two spares. One on a rim and one without. What I don’t have is six. Isn’t there a mechanic in Los Lobos?” Silence filled the air for a few more minutes. “Fuck. You’re telling me he can’t get out here until tomorrow? Are you serious? Fine. I’ll call a service. They’ll have me up and going in no time.”
“I know a guy who owns—” Thom’s offer went ignored.
“Come on, Drew. I’m sure he’s a good mechanic, but I can’t wait for him. I need to get these crates loaded and get back to town.” He lowered his voice to a register too low for Thom to hear so he took a couple of steps forward. He wasn’t nosy, but if Hank knew something about the people shooting up his farm, then Thom deserved to hear whatever he said in the conversation.
Hank looked up from the ruined wheels and met his gaze for one exhilarating second then he broke the contact and turned so Thom faced his broad back. “I don’t believe in coincidences, either. If I’m the target…. Okay. Fine. I’ll sleep in my cab, but Jackson better be out here at first light.” He hung up after the final words in the cryptic conversation.
Had Hank been the real target after all? Nobody had ever taken shots at the farm until the truck driver showed up. The only thing to take any real damage had been the truck.
If Hank were in danger, Thom couldn’t let him sleep alone in the cab of the truck. “You don’t have to stay in your truck. I’ve got plenty of rooms in the house.” Sure, Hank happened to be hot as hell. Thom’s cock had gone hard when Hank had been frisking him in the barn, but he had to keep their relationship focused on business. He needed the income Drew would bring him, which meant keeping him happy. Having one of his men shot at while on his farm definitely didn’t count as a great start.
Hank turned to face him again. This time he wore an easy smile. “I gave Drew a hard time because he won’t let me call anybody else to come fix the rig. Something about insurance claims. It’ll be all a lot easier for him if I have his mechanic do the work. I’m really okay sleeping in my cab. It’s a comfortable setup, but I wanted him to make him feel bad.”
“Oh. Okay.” Disappointment made his tone a little flat, but he doubted Hank would notice. “I’m going to order a pizza after the cops leave. You’re more than welcome to a couple of slices.”
Hank started to say something, but his words were lost as another loud shot splintered the silence. Burning pain enveloped Thom’s thigh as his legs collapsed. He crashed to the ground, but the jarring pain he expected from the fall never happened. Instead, a weird numbness filled him.
“Fuck!” Hank’s voice shifted into something like a growl as Thom’s hold on consciousness grew weaker. “The police are almost here. You have to stay awake.”
Maybe he hadn’t growled? Maybe it’d been the sirens he’d heard? Nothing made sense. “Somebody shot me.”
Chapter Two
Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he fought against the need to pace. He had to do something. Frustration ate at him—insisted he move. He had to keep it together. He needed to plead his case to Drew. He’d been amazed when Drew had shown
He stayed on the line until the woman took all his information then went out into the yard to find Hank. No shots followed him when Hank had exited the barn. Maybe whoever had been firing left. Staying in the shelter and waiting for the police seemed cowardly.
Scanning the yard cautiously, it didn’t take long to spot him. He stood by his rig, yelling into a cell phone so loud Thom wouldn’t be surprised if the entire county could hear him.
“They shot out six of my tires.”
His rig had been the target? Why would anybody shoot at a semi? The realization added to his confidence in the decision to leave the barn. Neither he nor Hank had been in danger. Not if the person had been aiming at a truck.
“Of course I have a spare. Two spares. One on a rim and one without. What I don’t have is six. Isn’t there a mechanic in Los Lobos?” Silence filled the air for a few more minutes. “Fuck. You’re telling me he can’t get out here until tomorrow? Are you serious? Fine. I’ll call a service. They’ll have me up and going in no time.”
“I know a guy who owns—” Thom’s offer went ignored.
“Come on, Drew. I’m sure he’s a good mechanic, but I can’t wait for him. I need to get these crates loaded and get back to town.” He lowered his voice to a register too low for Thom to hear so he took a couple of steps forward. He wasn’t nosy, but if Hank knew something about the people shooting up his farm, then Thom deserved to hear whatever he said in the conversation.
Hank looked up from the ruined wheels and met his gaze for one exhilarating second then he broke the contact and turned so Thom faced his broad back. “I don’t believe in coincidences, either. If I’m the target…. Okay. Fine. I’ll sleep in my cab, but Jackson better be out here at first light.” He hung up after the final words in the cryptic conversation.
Had Hank been the real target after all? Nobody had ever taken shots at the farm until the truck driver showed up. The only thing to take any real damage had been the truck.
If Hank were in danger, Thom couldn’t let him sleep alone in the cab of the truck. “You don’t have to stay in your truck. I’ve got plenty of rooms in the house.” Sure, Hank happened to be hot as hell. Thom’s cock had gone hard when Hank had been frisking him in the barn, but he had to keep their relationship focused on business. He needed the income Drew would bring him, which meant keeping him happy. Having one of his men shot at while on his farm definitely didn’t count as a great start.
Hank turned to face him again. This time he wore an easy smile. “I gave Drew a hard time because he won’t let me call anybody else to come fix the rig. Something about insurance claims. It’ll be all a lot easier for him if I have his mechanic do the work. I’m really okay sleeping in my cab. It’s a comfortable setup, but I wanted him to make him feel bad.”
“Oh. Okay.” Disappointment made his tone a little flat, but he doubted Hank would notice. “I’m going to order a pizza after the cops leave. You’re more than welcome to a couple of slices.”
Hank started to say something, but his words were lost as another loud shot splintered the silence. Burning pain enveloped Thom’s thigh as his legs collapsed. He crashed to the ground, but the jarring pain he expected from the fall never happened. Instead, a weird numbness filled him.
“Fuck!” Hank’s voice shifted into something like a growl as Thom’s hold on consciousness grew weaker. “The police are almost here. You have to stay awake.”
Maybe he hadn’t growled? Maybe it’d been the sirens he’d heard? Nothing made sense. “Somebody shot me.”
Chapter Two
Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he fought against the need to pace. He had to do something. Frustration ate at him—insisted he move. He had to keep it together. He needed to plead his case to Drew. He’d been amazed when Drew had shown
Similar Books
Malavita
Dana Delamar
You Can't Fight a Royal Attraction
Ruchi Vasudeva
Master/slave Relations: Handbook of Theory and Practice
Robert J. Rubel
The Carnival at Bray
Jessie Ann Foley
Eaters
Michelle DePaepe
Finding Willow (Hers)
Dawn Robertson
FOUR PLAY
Myla Jackson
A Day Of Faces
Simon K Jones
Renegade (Elite Ops 5)
Lora Leigh