Silver-Tongued Devil by Lorelei James EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Lorelei James
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
Outside Sackett’s Saloon
Labelle Unincorporated Township
Crook County, Wyoming
May 1897
EVEN IN THE dark, Silas McKay sensed the attack coming.
Although he couldn’t get his knife out in front of him in time, somehow
he managed to turn his head, so the first blow landed on his cheekbone
instead of busting his nose.
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Still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
Then the bastard who’d taken that cheap shot aimed punches number two
and three at Silas’s gut, doubling him over.
Sharp pain sliced through him and he sucked in a quick breath.
An elbow connected with the back of his head and Silas’s hat hit the
ground.
But before Silas could straighten up, Zeke West kicked him in the butt
with enough force that Silas landed face-first in the dirt. Dust filled his mouth
and he started coughing.
“Gimme back my money,” Zeke yelled.
More dust eddied around him, making it impossible to see in the pitch
black. Making it hard to breathe—even before Zeke changed tactics and
kicked Silas in the ribs.
He felt the wetness coating his side.
“Dirty rotten cheater like you belongs in the dirt,” Zeke sneered.
Silas wheezed out, “I won fair and square.”
“Liar!” A flurry of kicks connected. “You’ve never played fair. I’m
gonna beat you until you pass out and then I’m takin’ back what’s mine.”
Like hell.
But Silas only managed to grunt in response.
Zeke shuffled until the toe of his boot connected with Silas’s spine,
punctuating each kick with insults—“dirty, rotten, no-good, lyin’, lilylivered, cheatin’, son of a whore”—while Silas attempted to protect his head.
“Ready to give me my money back?” Zeke taunted. “Or should I bring
this up with your brother?”
A commotion sounded, bootsteps hitting the wooden planks outside the
saloon, then boots thudding across the ground as people shouted and raced
toward where the beating was happening.
About damn time.
Silas took a chance, uncurling his arms from around his head to glare
over his shoulder at Zeke. Then he gritted out, “Typical, West, that you were
hidin’ in the shadows to jump me. Ain’t man enough to face me head-on—”
The last thing Silas saw was Zeke’s boot heel above his face before
everything went dark.
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