When Roses Collide

Chapter Seventeen

"You don't say?" Ethan gave Travis a wink over his coffee cup. "Then perhaps I should take a friendly visit out to her place. Show her some small town hospitality and check out the condition of her legs for myself."

Travis's less than gracious remark was left hanging at the end of his tongue as Ethan's cell phone rang. "Saved by the bell," he muttered when his own cell vibrated in his pocket. He whipped it out and saw a text from Brady. Frowning about the possibility of something going wrong with his feed order for the week, he opened the text.

Trouble @ feed store. Harley needs help.

His blood ran cold as he responded with a quick message to let him know he was on his way.

Just as Travis jumped to his feet to leave, he noticed Ethan had matched his movements with his own ants in the pants behavior. Both cowboys' eyes met for a moment. "Feed store," they said together. Within seconds, they put their boots into motion and hustled it out the door.

Harley took a step back from Rafferty, not in fear, but to try and get a breath of fresh air. Seriously, didn't this man believe in the power of soap and water? She glanced up at Lloyd who suddenly was obsessed with a speck of dirt on the old counter he stood behind. Harley could tell by his body language he wasn't comfortable with the turn of events and probably had little to do with Rafferty's claim they didn't serve "her kind".

Harley narrowed her eyes, sending Rafferty a glare through her sunglasses. She noticed two other slimy looking cowboys had joined in on the fun and flanked him on both sides. Great, he had backup. Furious Rafferty's issue with her had involved Jenny and her husband, Harley straightened her spine and faced the disgusting bully. Her evil inner demon started to gear up in gladiator splendor in preparation for a monumental battle.

"You claim you own this town, Chucky. But the funny thing is, when I pulled in, I didn't see a sign with your name on it. But then again...Ignorant Asshole probably isn't the best choice for a name of a town. Not good for tourism," Harley stated flatly, hearing a few muffled chuckles in the background.

"I would watch my tongue if I were you, bitch," the greasy cowboy next to Rafferty spat in her direction.

"I don't believe I have had the pleasure or displeasure of meeting you." Harley turned her attention to him and just about tossed her cookies as she watched him wipe a stream of tobacco stained drool off his chin with the back of his sleeve.

"The name's Dick Finley, darlin'. If you need some feed, I got a few moldy bales out behind my barn. Course," he reached down and cupped his cock, "you'll have to work for em." He gave her a perverted grin, showing a minimal amount of brown, stained teeth and spit a stream of disgusting chew down by her boots.

"Why does it not surprise me your name would be Dick?" Harley took a step back to keep her suede boots from getting tobacco juice on them. "As far as your offer goes, Dick...if you're looking to get the smell of Rafferty's ass off your cock, I'm afraid I can't help you," Harley sweetly drawled. "Perhaps you should try soap. Obviously I don't think either of you have ever smelt it before."

"Why you dirty whore!" Rafferty roared, launching himself at Harley with his hand raised ready to send a solid backhand across her face.

She closed her eyes and readied herself for the blow which was about to come. Unconsciously, she set her body into defense mode. As soon as he threw the first punch, she thought, a good kick to his meaty throat should shut him down efficiently enough.

Time moved in slow motion as a vicious grin crept across her face. Damn. It was going to feel good to open a little whoop-ass and knock the fat bastard on his egotistical butt. Even though she cringed slightly at the thought of pain she would feel when his hand connected with her cheek, the diabolic demon inside her let out a war cry and raise a battle ax in the air.