Page 98 of My Cowboy Freedom
“Of course.” He smiled coolly. “Because you’ll do anything to keep Rock safe.”
“Happy to be of service.”
Not smart, not smart.
Chandler’s jaw worked. “You’re thinking: What’s to stop the two of you from getting together despite what his family wants? Despite what’s obviously best for him?”
“If you’re taking up mind-reading you better keep your day job.”
He eyed me a little too long for comfort. Then the frown faded. That cynical smile reappeared–sunrise on the day after the Zombie apocalypse.
“I didn’t get where I am by losing, son. All you need to know is this: If you fuck with me? If you even think about fucking with me? It’s gonna beRockwho pays the price.”
He was bargaining with Rock’s happiness.
“But you care about him.” I wasn’t wrong about that. Chandler cared about Rock’s day-to-day happiness a hell of a lot more than his parents did.
“It’s because I care about him that I need to tear him away from this thing he wants with other men. If a kid gets hold of some dangerous toy, you take it away. They say they’ll hate you forever, but it’s the right thing to do. I take care of my family. And I will fight every evil thing those liberal bastards try to shove down decent folks’ throats in the name of political correctness. I stand for what I believe in, and folks who stand against me will pay a steep damn price. Every. Single. Time.”
Had Sterling Chandler just compared me to a dangerous toy?
I said the only thing I could think of: “Yessir.”
