Page 18 of Nixon’s Promise

“No. You listen, Richard. You came onto my land, not on official county business, but on a personal vendetta. So I’ll make myself clear. Your son is a piece of shit who violated young girls and he’d be wise to steer clear of me. As a matter of fact, he sees me, he should cross the street. Because I gotta tell you, I still haven’t forgotten holding on to Marcy Billings while she sobbed in my arms after your son got his hand where she didn’t want it. That’s something a man never forgets.”

“That’s not how Richard tells the story. And everyone in the county knows Marcy was no angel in high school.”

“Now we’re blaming the victim? I don’t give a rat’s ass if she fucked every male student in her graduating class. No means no. She told Rich no, begged him to stop, and he didn’t. Way I see it, he deserved every ass whoopin’ he got. And it wasn’t just Marcy who filed a complaint. The Methodist preacher’s daughter was damn close to an angel—that is, until she met your son. He did her dirty, and you know that, too.”

“You need to—”

“I don’t need to do jack shit. I haven’t done one thing that warrants you coming onto my property and threatening me. You had your say, came out here to puff out your chest and flex your authority. I get it, you’re still the top dog. Good for you. Now, get off my property.”

The sheriff’s gaze slid past Nixon, and with his face still red with anger, he continued to push. “Those weapons registered?”

Nix turned to look at the two shotguns and .22 rifle leaning against the side of the barn. Nix had found them locked in the old feed closet and took them out so he could bring them up to the house and put them in the safe.

“Seriously?” Nixon laughed.

“Well, are they?”

“They sure are,” he replied, not a hundred percent certain he was telling the truth. The guns were his grandfather’s, putting them over fifty years old. Nix found it doubtful they were registered but he wasn’t admitting that to Dickhead Dillinger Senior.

“You’d be smart to get your shit in order and leave.”

Well, that made Nixon wanna hang around a bit longer.

“Always a pleasure, Dick.”

The sheriff walked around his SUV much quicker than he did when he arrived. Without ever acknowledging McKenna or Zack he tore out of the yard, kicking up rocks and dirt as he did.

“That was freakin’ awesome,” Zack sputtered.

“No. The last thing that was, was awesome. What it was, was necessary.”

Zack’s face fell and Nix went on to explain. “I respect the law, Zack. I also respect the men and women who enforce it. What just happened with the sheriff was unfortunate. He brought decade-old shit to my door. He did it because he knows what his son did in high school was wrong, so he’s trying to cover his ass and his son’s. I haven’t seen Rich Dillinger since we graduated high school, but I’d bet he’s the same asshole he was then. Only now he wears a badge.”

“Did he really do those things to those girls?” Zack asked.

“He did. Not only did he hurt my friend Marcy, but other girls as well. At first no one talked about it, but after Marcy told, more girls came forward. All with the same story. Rich’s story never changed either, he laughed it off and said they all wanted it.” Nixon stopped and took a chance imparting a life lesson. “When anyone gives you their trust, it’s important you take care of it. When a woman gives it to you, there is nothing more precious. And as things progress, it is always the man’s job to pay attention. No comes in many forms, not just words. But when that word is spoken or conveyed in any way it can be, it is to be respected. Full stop. Richard Dillinger didn’t understand the meaning of respect.”

“But you taught him the meaning?”

Nixon’s gaze moved to McKenna. They’d both heard the story, but he wasn’t sure how much more she’d want her brother to know.

“Yes, I taught him the meaning.”

“Good. No girl should have to go through that.”

“You’re right, bud. Ready to get back to work?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Zack dashed back into the barn full of teenage energy, something that Nix was seriously lacking these days.

McKenna started in his direction and he braced. When she stopped in front of him and placed her tiny hand on his bare chest right over his heart, he felt like he’d been hit with two hundred joules straight to his ticker.

“You’re a good man, Nixon Swagger.”

“That’s a stretch,” he told her.

“All those girls in high school were lucky to have you.”