“Goddamn ya! Ya shot my hand off, ya bastard!” Rayford was up now, hopping around in agony, holding his smoking stump with his left hand, as if trying to will it to grow back. “He shot my hand off, Paw!”
Tiger ignored him, instead whistling to the creature, getting its attention. He then motioned for her to come to him with his index finger. She picked up the rail pistol and Junior’s gun and flung them into the river. As she started towards Tiger, she hesitated. Turning back, she grabbed up the blade that Rayford had dropped in order to violate her. In one swift move, she brought it down hard into the top of his foot. He let out another howl of agony, as he tumbled over onto the ground, a blubbering mess. She then scrambled over to Tiger on her hands and knees.
By now, the bar was emptying out. Word had spread of the commotion. Tiger knew he needed to move. Cops would be on the way. The creature cowered at his feet, staring in fright at the rush of people. Taking off his jacket, he draped it over her, covering her nudity.
“Flyboy …” Gideon’s voice trembled with rage. Tiger turned back to him. He still lay prone on the ground, but he was looking up at the man who’d just maimed his son. The old man’s eyes burnt like coals, so intense was the hatred in them. “You better sleep with one eye open! You fucked with the wrong family! If I have to follow you to the end of the galaxy …”
If I had a point for every time I heard that, old man, I’d blue-balled it years ago.
He nudged the creature, getting her to her feet. Turning to go, he saw Cutter standing among the onlookers, smoking a cigar of his own and looking slightly amused. Behind him, Carina looked on admiringly.
“I thought I was the one always looking for trouble.” He studied the creature curiously. “Whatcha got there?”
“HellifIknow, but I’m taking her with me.”
There was a ripple in the crowd as Wilbur pushed his way to the front. Seeing his charge now free, his eyes went wide with fear. Oh fuck! I am in some deep shit!
“Wait! You can’t take he—!” His voice was silenced as Tiger raised his Spacehawk, training it on him. The creature growled angrily. Instinctively, Wilbur reached for his rail pistol, but with a nauseated feeling, realized he’d left it in the truck. Suddenly, feeling naked and vulnerable, he simply dropped his head and went silent. He needed to make a call! And where is Toby? Quietly, he slinked back into the crowd.
“You need to go,” Cutter said, eying the Tuttles. “Now! I’ll do what I can here.”
“Thanks,” Tiger said gratefully, holstering his pistol, and pulling out his PDC. He spoke the code for his truck to begin cycling up. “I owe you … as usual.”
Cutter nodded. “And you know I’ll call in the favor. Now get on!”
Tiger didn’t hesitate. Guiding the rescued damsel with his hand on her shoulder, he disappeared into the night. Behind him, Rayford Tuttle was still blathering over his bloody stump.
“Will you shut yer whining, ya pansy-ass, li’l sissy!” his father roared at him as he wrapped what was left of his boy’s wrist with a greasy bandanna. “Damn, yore gettin’ on my last nerve!”
“I found one of his fingers, Pa!” Junior shouted triumphantly, holding it up with pride, as if he’d just found an Easter egg. Gideon grabbed it from him and angrily tossed it into the river.
“You’re not my son!” He slapped him across the side of the head, knocking his Brave’s cap off. “Fingers don’t do much good if there ain’t a hand to put ‘em back to!”
Cutter couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head and taking another smooth drag off his fine cigar. The excitement over, he turned and walked back into the bar.
Just another night at the Blackwater.
Chapter 4
Tiger roared away from the bar in the Pegasus, pushing the throttle forward hard, even as he barely cleared the parking lot. He knew there’d probably be some singed rooftops down there. He was definitely violating the “NO WAKE” zone. But at any second, he knew there would be blue lights appearing out in the night, and he wanted to be as far away from them as he could.
Sitting next to him, the fox-girl … or girl-fox … leaned heavily against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Whatever else it was, it was obviously very appreciative of being rescued. Once inside the truck, she’d slid out of his jacket, and he couldn’t help but notice the firmness of her breasts against him. In spite of being covered with the light fur, it was still a naked woman’s body leaning into him.
Trying to concentrate on being a noble rescuer, he decided to attempt communication. “Are you hurt?” he asked. “Are you ok?”
At this, she raised her head and looked at him. There was a soft smile on her face, a sense of gratitude, even admiration. Her eyes were big, oversized, for her face. Looking into them, he saw a certain amount of sensuality, mingled with a sweet naiveté. It was like looking into the face of an innocent child … one who just happened to have the body of a pinup girl.
“Do you have a name?”
She gave no response, except to smile and place a hand softly on his face. He wondered if she was mute or even understood what he was saying.
“Can you talk?” he asked, surprised at how soft the fur on her hand felt against
