Bovine Bloodbath HIGH STEAKS: book two (Bovine bloodbath series 2) by Chris Lowry

Author:Chris Lowry [Lowry, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Ozarks Media
Published: 2017-12-17T18:30:00+00:00

"Naw man. No, you're right. Here, just push up and I'll slide under you."

"What?"

"Push your feet on the floor and lift up, I'll just scoot behind the wheel."

"I don't think so."

"What? You afraid of something?"

"There's not enough room."

"Man there is enough room. You're just afraid to have a black man that close to your backdoor. That's homophobic."

"You sure you want to look like we're a couple in front of them?"

Dawes nodded through the window.

"Man I don't give a shit what they think. Racist nazi assholes. I'm trying to get you out of my way so I can drive us out of here and you're being a dumb ass."

"I'm not a dumb ass. I just don't think there's enough room."

"There's plenty of room," Carver argued. "Lift your ass up, move from behind the wheel and get out the way."

Dawes shook his head, but he scooted over.

"I'm not scared of your junk spooning my backside," he drawled as he pushed up. "I just think this is a stupid idea."

"Then you should have let me drive," Carver slid under him.

Their feet got tangled on the floorboard, cowboy boots kicking against hicking boots and Dawes plopped into Carver's lap.

"This is comfy," Dawes smirked.

"Man get off me. Move."

The driver's side window shattered.

"You boys want a room."

Carver slid out from under Dawes but kept distance between the door and the pale white face that leered through the smashed glass.

"I'm getting pretty damn tired of people calling me boy."

"We don't want your kind around here!" the pale face screamed, spit flying onto the seat.

"Say it don't spray it," Carver snapped.

The man lunged and tried to punch him, missed and hit the steering wheel. The loud horn honk made others in the crowd jump and surge around the truck.

"We should have kept those lasers," said Dawes as he watched the faces press in against the passenger window.

"They've got a gun!" screamed the first attacker.

The crowd began beating against the doors, the hood, the noise a crescendo of pounding thumps, and angry yells.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Carver said.

The driver's door was ripped open and people dragged him from the car. Dawes reached for his foot, but the crowd grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the truck too.

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