Page 2 of Daddy Crush (Silver Fox Daddy)

“I’m warning you,” I said, my voice deceptively steady, and swung the cattle prod from behind, holding it in front of me with both hands, pointing it upward at the barn roof like the blade of a sword. “You’ve badgered me for the last time.”

The tension crackled around us.

Without warning, he lunged at me.

This time, I was ready.

I knew what was in store for me if I didn’t come to my own defense, with my parents and sister way back in the house, sorting out their differences in a “family meeting”. Today he’d gone too far, trespassing on our land, not taking no for an answer for the one millionth time. My fear evaporated as if by an onrushing wind, and I saw who he was with abrupt clarity.

A bully.

An entitled toddler in an adult’s uniform.

My would-be accoster, or worse.

I jumped to the side, out of his reach, squared up to my potential attacker, and roared with a voice like thunder, “I’ve had it with you!”

Dad didn’t raise me to back down to tyrants. I raised my prod, making sure Hoss could see the two special spurs at the tip, which would shock the shit out of him. He shot his hand forward, trying to grab my ponytail and missing when I stepped aside. I pulled the trigger, landing a lucky blow, which dazed my attacker.

With a quick thrust of my arm, and a single press of the trigger, I pricked the prod right between his legs.

Up to now, I thought there wasn’t a sound that could drown out the plaintive sound of baby goats bleating for their breakfast.

I was wrong.

Hoss let out a bellow of pain and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground.

I brandished the hot shot to convey my meaning. He better stay down, but I needn’t have bothered. He was writhing on the ground, groaning in pain.

I’d completely fried his wiener.

“I hope this serves as a valuable life lesson for you, Hoss,” I said, growing stronger with each word. “Mess with me again, and I’ll zap your pecker right off.”

And with that, I turned and walked away, feeling a wave of relief and pride as I made my way back to the house, leaving him there to ponder the error of his ways while lying in a pile of goat droppings I’d raked up.

Little did I know, at that instant, my life had become pretty much screwed.

2

DUKE

COUNTY SEAT, HUMBOLDT

When my friend, Troy, called in his favor, saying no didn’t even cross my mind. It was only afterwards I fully understood that playing babysitter to his daughter would severely cramp my style.

I parked at the curb, which served as the Greyhound station, since even the largest city in Humboldt County didn’t merit a building for its infrequent busses.

His daughter was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, but I guess public transportation wasn’t what it used to be. Not like Germany, where the trains always ran on time. The tight knot within me begged for release, and I reminded myself that having a beer before the drive back home was definitely not the answer.

Staying sober wasn’t easy.

I thought being back in civilian land after deployment would be a cakewalk, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Cracks on the sidewalk looked too much like trip wires they trained us to spot, and at first, the bottle was a good place to forget what I’d done in the name of being a true warrior.

The first time I showed myself at his tattoo parlor in Briarville, I thought my brother, Doc, would shit a brick.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He glowered at me and turned away, studying his appointment book like my showing up after three years was no surprise.

My throat tightened as I tried to bridge the gulf that had grown between us. “I’m a business owner now, little brother. I bought a coffee shop in town. Maybe you’ve seen it? It’s called The Daily Grind.” I spoke with a forced nonchalance, hoping to achieve the impossible and impress him after all the disappointments he’d suffered because of me.

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