Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Hawk put his arm out. “Now, now. It’s a challenge, Shooter. This here’s High Noon at the O.K. Corral. Can’t stop it. Wish Tex was here. He’d get a kick out of this. So would Doc.”
Chris watched as a crowd of Buzzards gathered to stand behind their guy, presenting a wall of black to a tiny little five foot nothing of a girl who didn’t even flinch. Hayley narrowed her eyes at the kid. She cocked her head to the side. “You ready, prospect?” she asked.
He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Hell yeah, I’m ready!”
Hayley shook her wrist out, flexing her fingers and the kid did the same. Chris shook his head at the both of them. It really was a gunslinger duel. Six shots and you were dead. Or Slick was at any rate, seeing as how she weighed about the same as a baby bird. He hoped she couldn’t manage more than two.
“On the count of three!” someone yelled out.
“One!” yelled the bikers.
“Two!” yelled the whole bar.
“THREE!” everyone thundered.
The kid grabbed the first shot and downed it, grimacing at the taste. Hayley took a step back from the table. The prospect slammed the first empty shot glass down and grabbed the second bringing it to his lips, but paused, confused. “What- why ain’t you drinking?”
Hayley grinned. “Gentleman!” she shouted above the jukebox. She raised both arms and pointed at the kid. “Drinks are on the prospect!”
There was a moment of silence before the entire bar roared with laughter. Buzzards started grabbing shots off the table, patting the bewildered prospect on the back, thanking him profusely for his ‘generosity.’ “Hey now!” he yelled. “I paid for those!” He tried in vain to snatch a few for himself but failed.
Hayley laughed and picked up the now empty tray, carrying it back to Maria who was bent over almost double laughing hysterically. When she stood up straight and wiped her eyes, she pressed a button on the cash register and handed Hayley a crisp twenty dollar bill. Hawk bellowed a laugh. Chris laughed, too, as he watched Hayley bring the prospect a consolation beer on the house. She patted him on the shoulder. He glared at her but took the beer.
Just then, Preacher called out from across the bar, “Prospect!” Heads turned as Preacher chalked his cue. He jerked his head. “Get over here and get in this game.” The prospect grinned at Hayley, grabbed his beer, and scurried off to shoot pool with the President of the Badlands Buzzards. Hayley smiled as she watched him go, wiped down the now-deserted table and headed over to Chris and the boys to gather their empties.
Hawk slapped the table. “Drinks are on the prospect,” he repeated, wiping his own eyes. “Oh, God.”
Chris grinned. “Very slick, Slick.”
“Karma’s a bitch,” she informed him. “He should be more polite, especially to the other customers.” She picked up their empties and walked away.
Chris turned to see Hawk smiling broadly and his eyes glittering with amusement. “Awww,” said the large man.
Chris made a face. “Don’t.”
“You got yourself a bodyguard, L.T.” Hawk chuckled.
“Shut up,” Chris replied, but he couldn’t stop grinning.
“Fucking adorable if you ask me. The little kitten unsheathed her claws to defend her man’s honor.”
“I am not her man!” Chris insisted.
“Well, you don’t see her going out of her way to protect me,” Hawk pointed out.
Chris glared at him. “That’s because no one would fuck with you. Running into you would be like crashing headfirst into a brick wall without a helmet.”
Hawk laughed even harder and then slapped Chris on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “If anyone else gives you trouble, anyone at all, I’ll be sure to sic the kitten on ‘em.”
Chris sighed in exasperation and took a sip of his beer.
“Hang on I gotta hit the head,” Hawk announced, setting down his cue. Chris watched as the large man headed for the john. People moved out of his way like he was a freight train even though he was only ambling. He stopped by the jukebox, dug out a dollar, and fed it into the machine. A slow guitar twanged out Tammy Wynette’s Stand by Your Man over the speakers. Hawk laughed hysterically and Chris flipped him off. Then he flagged down Hayley to order a burger and fries before Thomas shut down the grill.
When the food came, he settled into the chair at his table and tucked into it, wiling away the four hours Slick had to go before the bar closed. Two o’clock came, and he slid off his chair to follow Hayley into the kitchen. Hawk was closing the deal with a cute little brunette and gave Chris a nod as he escorted his evening’s entertainment out the front door. Chris returned the nod and pushed open the swinging door. He found her in the office.