Hell's Kitten: An MM Daddy Romance (Paddle Creek Daddies Book 5) by HJ Welch & Helen Juliet

Author:HJ Welch & Helen Juliet [Welch, HJ & Juliet, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Nim

“See what I mean?” Donna says glumly as I walk up to O’Toole’s. She’s come to meet me in the parking lot, her arms folded and a grim look on her face.

Probably because there’s a crowd of about twenty people outside of her pub, all holding signs and shouting nonsense. I pick up phrases like “Not in our town!” and “Think of the children!”

“What the fuck?” I grunt, genuinely not sure I can believe my eyes. Don’t these people have anything better to do?

Apparently not. I’m not sure if members of this crowd know Mayor Durham personally or if he’s just managed to whip up this many voters into such an organic frenzy. The result is the same.

I know my business is down, and I don’t have a mob actively trying to dissuade people from going inside.

Yet.

“Have you called Sheriff Chancey?” I ask.

Donna shrugs as we walk together back toward the front door. “It’s free speech and all that, isn’t it? If these clowns can terrorize Planned Parenthood without repercussions, there sure as shit isn’t a good argument to get them off my property. Technically, if they stay on the public sidewalk, they aren’t doing anything wrong.” She gives me a sly look. “I might have thought about turning the water hose on them once or twice.”

Honestly, that sounds pretty tempting to me.

“Go back to where you came from!” one pinched-looking man yells at me. “Paddle Creek doesn’t want your kind here!”

Even though he’s half my size and I’m a full-grown adult now, his words still sting. Some people are so consumed by hate they don’t stop to think about what they’re actually demanding. Would he still be so righteous if he saw a teenage boy shivering and hungry on the streets? Or if he knew the all-consuming terror of knowing there isn’t one single person on earth who gives a damn whether you live or die?

“Excuse me, sir,” Donna says cheerfully as we push our way through the crowd. None of them actually touch us, but they get right up in our faces.

“Down with immorality!” another woman cries, shaking her fist. She’s holding a sign that reads ‘Protect our children!’ and I do my best not to snarl. Protect them from what?

“You’d know all about immorality, wouldn’t you, Sharron?” Donna quips with a smirk. “Your husband aware you stepped out on him with your gym instructor?”

The woman’s face turns purple, and she shuts up long enough for me to follow Donna inside, where there is a distinct lack of drugs or hookers. I breathe a sigh of relief as the familiar smell of worn leather greets us, AC/DC playing on the sound system.

The place is practically empty, though. I wince and glance over at Donna, who throws her hands up and stomps over to the bar. “I know, I know. Don’t start,” she gripes. “We’ll be okay. If we can just make it through this election, hopefully, things will calm down. After Christmas, everyone will have forgotten all about it.

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