Conrad, Kelly - Rogue Preacher (Siren Publishing Ménage and More ManLove) by Kelly Conrad
Authors: Kelly Conrad
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than he ever had. With that feeling eating him up, he shoved Vince aside and went to the door. After yanking it open, he stopped suddenly. Without turning around, he said, “I’m gonna need some time. I’m movin’ back to town. When…if I come back, it’ll mean…it’ll mean it’s all behind me. But I can’t do this now. Not now.” And then he walked through the door and slammed out.
“Hey!” Vince shouted as he jumped up from his knees and ran outside. “What do you mean, you’re leavin’? I trusted you, Sunset. One word to the right people is all it would take. How do I know you won’t go spillin’ your guts to the sheriff?”
“Because I gave you my word. I might not have much left, but my word is solid.”
* * * *
Sunset stayed drunk for days. He haunted saloons, flirted with the saloon girls, and even fucked them just to prove that he could. After a while they all began looking alike. An arrogant swagger, a bold, suggestive smile, eyes that when he looked into them reflected a deep well of misery. The money he left them always caused a brief smile, but he knew that even money couldn’t give them what they needed. Once he would have told them they needed God, but today he had no such message and wondered if their misery equaled his. As time went on, one faceless saloon girl after another flitted by him, one pretty much like the other, until he finally gave up and nursed his drinks in silence.
And then one night he saw a couple of cowboys standing at his table looking down at him. Without looking up, he asked, “Ain’t you two afraid to show your faces in a public place?”
“Come back with us, Sunset.”
* * * *
Suddenly, from behind, Vince felt his gun snatched from his holster. He was just about to turn and see what was going on when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and stuck the barrel of his own gun in his ribs. “What the hell is this?” he said.
“You’re under arrest, Vince,” the sheriff growled. “I’m throwin’ both you and your partner’s ass in jail.”
He looked over at Chick and saw him in the clutches of the deputy and then looked back down at Sunset. “So you did it. Solid, my ass, Sunset, your word is about as solid as water.”
Sunset stood up, knocking his chair backward. “My word? What about you, Vince? You killed my fuckin’ wife while she was doin’ nothin’ but tryin’ to hide from you. She had no fuckin’ protection and no way for her to defend herself. I thought you were after me, but never in my wildest dreams did I think you were after my wife! Well, let me tell you something, Vince, the hangman’s noose won’t be high enough, or strong enough to please me, and just so you know, it was that stupid spider tattoo that gave you away!”
“You bastard!” Vince yelled while struggling.
“I’ll be there when you hang. Hell, maybe I’ll even ask them to let me pull the trapdoor open!” With his flashing eyes boring into Vince’s, he said, “Take ’em away, sheriff. I’m gettin’ sick just lookin’ at ’em.”
* * * *
For days Sunset paced in his hotel room. It would be weeks before the circuit judge would be coming to Rogue’s Canyon, and he had to stay around to testify in Vince and Chick’s trial. He couldn’t sleep or eat, and at night, when he was hungry for some cowboy’s dick, he thought of Vince and Chick. He felt like dirt. Many times he’d get on his horse and ride as fast and as hard as he could just to try and get the picture of being with them out of his mind.
And then when he’d sunk about as low as he could, he found himself with a gun, standing on a crate outside the jail.
“Pssst!” he called out. When he got no answer, he did it again. Finally he saw Vince looking out between the bars.
When Vince’s gaze lowered and saw who it was, his eyes reflected a look so cold Sunset could almost feel the freezing winter wind circling around his heart. “What the hell do you want?”
Without saying anything,
“Hey!” Vince shouted as he jumped up from his knees and ran outside. “What do you mean, you’re leavin’? I trusted you, Sunset. One word to the right people is all it would take. How do I know you won’t go spillin’ your guts to the sheriff?”
“Because I gave you my word. I might not have much left, but my word is solid.”
* * * *
Sunset stayed drunk for days. He haunted saloons, flirted with the saloon girls, and even fucked them just to prove that he could. After a while they all began looking alike. An arrogant swagger, a bold, suggestive smile, eyes that when he looked into them reflected a deep well of misery. The money he left them always caused a brief smile, but he knew that even money couldn’t give them what they needed. Once he would have told them they needed God, but today he had no such message and wondered if their misery equaled his. As time went on, one faceless saloon girl after another flitted by him, one pretty much like the other, until he finally gave up and nursed his drinks in silence.
And then one night he saw a couple of cowboys standing at his table looking down at him. Without looking up, he asked, “Ain’t you two afraid to show your faces in a public place?”
“Come back with us, Sunset.”
* * * *
Suddenly, from behind, Vince felt his gun snatched from his holster. He was just about to turn and see what was going on when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and stuck the barrel of his own gun in his ribs. “What the hell is this?” he said.
“You’re under arrest, Vince,” the sheriff growled. “I’m throwin’ both you and your partner’s ass in jail.”
He looked over at Chick and saw him in the clutches of the deputy and then looked back down at Sunset. “So you did it. Solid, my ass, Sunset, your word is about as solid as water.”
Sunset stood up, knocking his chair backward. “My word? What about you, Vince? You killed my fuckin’ wife while she was doin’ nothin’ but tryin’ to hide from you. She had no fuckin’ protection and no way for her to defend herself. I thought you were after me, but never in my wildest dreams did I think you were after my wife! Well, let me tell you something, Vince, the hangman’s noose won’t be high enough, or strong enough to please me, and just so you know, it was that stupid spider tattoo that gave you away!”
“You bastard!” Vince yelled while struggling.
“I’ll be there when you hang. Hell, maybe I’ll even ask them to let me pull the trapdoor open!” With his flashing eyes boring into Vince’s, he said, “Take ’em away, sheriff. I’m gettin’ sick just lookin’ at ’em.”
* * * *
For days Sunset paced in his hotel room. It would be weeks before the circuit judge would be coming to Rogue’s Canyon, and he had to stay around to testify in Vince and Chick’s trial. He couldn’t sleep or eat, and at night, when he was hungry for some cowboy’s dick, he thought of Vince and Chick. He felt like dirt. Many times he’d get on his horse and ride as fast and as hard as he could just to try and get the picture of being with them out of his mind.
And then when he’d sunk about as low as he could, he found himself with a gun, standing on a crate outside the jail.
“Pssst!” he called out. When he got no answer, he did it again. Finally he saw Vince looking out between the bars.
When Vince’s gaze lowered and saw who it was, his eyes reflected a look so cold Sunset could almost feel the freezing winter wind circling around his heart. “What the hell do you want?”
Without saying anything,
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