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Harry shook his head. “Glad you can wrangle him, I wouldn't even try. Damn goat can do whatever he likes as far as I’m concerned.”
Creed chuckled as he wrapped a piece of twine around the door to hold it shut as the first time Rambo hit it, the lock broke. “Yeah, I think he knew I wasn't after his pack.” Turning, he stepped over to the man still lying on the floor while holding his package. He grabbed the man’s wrists and hauled them behind his back.
Swiftly, Harry stepped in and tied them together with another piece of twine.
Hauling the sobbing loser up onto his feet, Creed stood him there so they could get a good look at him.
Silas reached over and snapped on the light.
The man narrowed his eyes as he stared at the men in front of him. He was still in pain and his eyes showed it. Well, that and the fact he couldn’t stand up straight yet. “What is this senor? Why am I tied up like a prisoner?”
Silas looked over at Creed and showed mock surprise. “What the what?” He laughed. “Did I miss something here? Didn’t this man break into my barn and try to kill my goats with a knife in his hands?”
Creed shrugged. “That’s what I saw.” Turning to his brother, he asked, “Did you see that, Harry?”
“Sure enough did, brother,” Harry agreed.
Silas looked back at the man and asked, “Now, why don’t you tell us what the fuck you were doing sneaking into my barn with a knife in your hand? Are you the same bastard that killed my woman’s chickens, two night ago?”
The man snorted but didn’t say a word.
“Maybe he needs more softening?” Harry suggested.
Silas nodded. “I think you’re right.” He grabbed the man by the shirt and hauled him over to a pen next to the goat pen. He opened the pen and dragged the man inside. He left him standing there leaning against the pen wire while he went to the goat pen gate and opened it. “Come on Rambo, this asshole was gonna gut your nanny goats.”
The man behind him nervously danced on his feet back and forth, “You can’t let that goat loose on me, old man. Not with my hands tied behind me.”
Silas turned with a smile on his face and said, “Sure I can, bucko. You got no right to be here and I’m just letting nature do what nature will do. You broke in here to what? Be nice to my goats? Well now, you can meet Rambo again.”
“Already met the bastardo, thanks anyway,” the man muttered.
“Well, I guess you’ll meet him again then, won’t you?” Silas grinned as he quickly stepped out of the pen. “Get him, Rambo.”
Rambo lowered his head and ran at the bound man. The man turned and tried to run but Rambo lowered his head and hit him in the lower back. The man screamed and slammed into the wall. He fell to his knees and the ram slammed him again then backed off.
“You ready to talk yet?” Silas asked. “Or should we let you stay in there and get to know Rambo some more?” Silas asked. “But I gotta warn ya, he can be a bitch when he wants to be.”
“Fuck you, old man.” The man on the ground grunted.
“I got all night, bucko,” Silas assured him. “Ole Rambo ain’t done with you yet.”
The man groaned and tried to turn over but Rambo began eating his pant cuffs. The man kicked out at him. Rambo grunted then stomped on the man’s legs. They could hear the bone break as the fallen man screamed and began to swear in Spanish.
“Oh, that hurt!” Silas remarked with a chuckle as he watched.
The barn door opened as Tate, Daniel and Bear walked in.
“What’s going on here, Pops?” Tate asked.
Silas motioned at the injured man inside the pen with Rambo and told them, “This fucker came sneaking in the barn with a knife and thought he’d bother the goats. He let ole Rambo out and Rambo got the better of him but he still didn’t want to talk. So it just made sense to me to put him back in with Rambo. I gave him a chance to talk and he wouldn’t. So Rambo just broke his leg. Course, he kicked at the goat first.” Silas looked over at the men and asked, “You boys find anything outside the perimeter?”
Tate shook his head. “We did find where he was watching from but he was already on his way here when we found his spot.”
Silas shook his head. “I asked if he killed Midge’s chickens night before last and he told me to fuck off. Talk about rude. Some people just don’t have any manners, ya know?”
“Hey, old man,” the trespasser called out. “Your fucking goat just broke my fucking leg! Maldito!”
“Well, unless you start talkin’ he’s probably gonna eat your balls next, Mr. Rude. You tell us why you’re here and who you work for and I might think about calling an ambulance.”
