Page 145 of Ride the Sky

Fallon flicks a hand like he’s a gnat. “Find a personality or go get me a drink.”

The man glares at her. “Bitch.”

I suck in a breath.

“Oh fuck, there’s something about telling a grown man to shut the fuck up that really gets me going,” Fallon says, casually rolling out her shoulders in a way that tells me she’s planning to swing.

Me, I ain’t feelin’ so casual at the moment.

Fallon can hold her own.

But whether she likes it or not, I’m her protector.

Blood boiling, I square up with the man. He’s beyond fucked. “You want to say that again. Tomyfuckin’ face this time.”

“Yeah, I do,” the guy drawls in a heavy Kentucky accent. “She’s a fucking bitch.” Foot jerking out, he kicks at the bottom of her cane, tipping it.

Fallon wobbles, but I grab her before she can fall.

A growl comes from behind the bar. Beef.

Red mists my vision.

Fallon’s smile flatlines. “Now that’s not very nice.”

My muscles stiffen, and my lungs swell with readiness. The worst mistake of this fucker’s life, and he doesn’t even know it.

I step forward.

“Don’t touch my wife,” I growl and then smash a brick fist into his face.

The guy slams into a table and drops his beer. He immediately turns my way, already balling a fist.

I throw a right hook that catches the guy in the chin. His teeth clack together, and then he goes down. His groans echo around the bar. No one moves.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“Nice hook,” Fallon says, sliding a hand over my shoulder.

I grin at her. “Fucker had it comin’. Let’s—”

WHACK!

A skinny dude with black jeans and a bolo tie smashes a pool cue on the bar top—the crack of a starter’s pistol.

The bar erupts. A table’s overturned. Two beer bottles fly through the air. A group of locals flee out the front door like panicked horses. Sheena screeches and ducks behind an overturned table, her tray held over her head like a shield.

“Aw, fuck,” I mutter.

“Fuck yes,” Fallon says, and I have to smother my grin. She loves a wild barfight as much as I do. A cowgirl in every way. Goddamn, I love her.

But what I don’t love is her being right in the middle of this bullshit. Irritated I have to channel Davis for once in my life, I grab her hand. “Let’s get outta here.”

“No way,” she shouts amid the fray. “I want to get a swing in.”

Smile feral, Fallon gives a wild hoot and steps up, placing herself in the middle of the brawl.

I groan.

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