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“She came to me.” Why the fuck did he feel the need to defend himself? Rebecca didn’t get anything she hadn’t asked for. In fact, she got everything she asked for. Even to keep her virginity. “Brother, she was fuckin’ legal, which I know is one of your concerns.”
“You think? That’s a huge goddamn concern and rightly so. And don’t care if she was forty. You don’t fuck with ‘em. Not one. Leave ‘em all the fuck alone. You don’t?” He jabbed his finger toward the back of the barn. “All those fields out there? All those fuckin’ fields our granddaddy farmed? All those fields those Amish families are farmin’ for us? And, in turn, providin’ us with a shitload of food, tobacco and all the rest? You fuck that shit up and you’re gonna be out there farmin’ it all yourself. You. Give you a goddamn hoe. And not the kind of ho that’s got a pussy. You got me?”
Sig stared at the empty glass in front of him. The whiskey hadn’t kicked in yet. His blood was still humming, his ribs aching, his temples throbbing.
He didn’t need any of this shit. He never should’ve come back. Knew it was a mistake to come back to this rinky-dink fucking town with nothing to do but beat off or find some available pussy to pass the fucking time.
Knew it was a mistake to promise Trip he’d stick around.
Knew it was a mistake to take that VP slot.
And a mistake to tell Trip he’d help with the repo business.
Also, knew it was a huge fucking mistake to come back to a place that had nothing but bad fucking memories.
Nothing could or would wipe that shit away.
Nothing.
And now upstairs was a woman living her own nightmare.
One that could be a million times worse than Sig’s ever was.
“Know what the worst of it is? What Rebecca’s brothers told me? You weren’t just stickin’ your dick in her ass, but beatin’ it bloody with your goddamn belt!” Trip’s face was now red and he was beginning to pace. Sig waited for the steam to come shooting out of his ears. “And if you continue fuckin’ with ‘em and knock one up? Fuck! Don’t be surprised if those supposedly peaceful people suddenly find a loaded shotgun to borrow. Think you look bad now? Either you’ll find your fuckin’ ass full of buckshot or with a goddamn ring on your finger and workin’ one of their farms, barefoot in cow pies and your calloused fingers pullin’ on cows’ titties. Which of those sound good to you?”
Neither. Because neither was going to happen. “Can’t get ‘em pregnant usin’ the hole I’m usin’. They get what they want and save what they need to for their future husbands. Supposed to be virgins and they remain so that way. It’s a fuckin’ win-win.”
“Christ,” ripped from Trip. “Yeah, looks like a whole shitload of winnin’ when you got a bad shiner, cracked ribs and who knows what else. Which I told ‘em they had every right to give you ‘cause you touched their damn property. It’d be like someone touchin’ ours, Sig. Same fuckin’ shit. Hope that snatch was worth what they doled out.”
“You have no idea,” Sig said under his breath. Now was not the time to think of Rebecca’s red striped ass.
Red.
Fuck.
“Honestly, you deserve another fuckin’ blanket party from us just like they gave you.” Trip sucked in a sharp breath. “Did my best to smooth that shit over. Dutch is gonna help by talkin’ to a couple of the elders, if it gets that far. Hopin’ it don’t, and her brothers keep that shit to themselves outta fear of Rebecca gettin’ shunned. Already promised ‘em you’ll stay a million fuckin’ yards away from any pussy wearin’ one of those bonnets. You need somethin’ to stick your dick into, find a fuckin’ sweet butt or one of those silicone pocket pussies. No Amish, no underage. You get me?”
“She was eighteen,” Sig reminded him.
Trip’s eyebrows shot up his head and he yelled, “I don’t give a fuck! You’re almost thirty-three fuckin’ years old. Find somethin’ old enough to grow hair downstairs. And make sure she’s not fuckin’ Amish.” Trip got suspiciously quiet, then pursed his lips and tilted his head, studying Sig a little longer. He wasn’t as loud when he said, “Now we got that straight, let’s move on to the next issue. What the fuck’s goin’ on with that redhead upstairs?”
Sig’s mouth got tight. “Found her.”
Trip’s brow dropped low and he plugged his hands on his hips again. “She ain’t a stray puppy, Sig. Don’t just find some random woman.”
He was so fucking wrong about that. “Found her on Copperhead Road in the woods.”
Trip blinked, then muttered, “Fuck.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t ‘til I caught her—”
“You caught her.”
Sig ignored his interruption. “That it hit me where she was runnin’ from. Soon as I did, got us both the fuck outta there. Had to convince her, though.”
