Sin City Baby

only a bit of hard work. one more semester’s worth of pushing through to get to where I was going. I’d done it all my life. This was no different. Dealing with this asshole was no different than dealing with any other asshole that had stood in my way.

If he wasn’t going to recognize my authority, then I had another trick up my sleeve.

I could stand toe-to-toe with his antics, if only to show him that however far he could dig his boots in, I could dig mine farther.

This wasn’t my first rodeo.

Chapter 7

Drake

“What?” I asked with a groan.

“You’ve got a performance today. Get up and get going,” Hank said.

“I don’t have anything like that on my calendar,” I said. “The fuck gives?”

“Shouldn’t you be up anyway? You know, doing ranch stuff? It’s an impromptu concert you’ve been invited to.”

“I don’t do those.”

“It’s an open-air thing, and you do it now.”

“I’m goin’ the fuck back to bed.”

“It’s for a good charity,” he said.

“Then just write them a check,” I said.

“It’s an acoustic set. Real mellow stuff.”

“I don’t do mellow.”

“Will you do it for Autism Speaks?”

Raking my hand across my face, I slung my legs over the edge of the bed. I had a soft spot for that charity, for the awareness they put out and the educational materials they had for people. My sister was the light of my life, but I’d watched my parents struggle most of their final years trying to understand how my sister worked. Elsie could operate in public for the most part. She held down her own part-time job and everything. But she had her moments, and they were rough.

Nonetheless, that girl was everything to me. And anything I could do for people who spread awareness about autism, I was more than willing to do.

“Why the fuck didn’t you lead off with that, Hank?”

“Should I have to?” he asked.

“When you’re calling at five in the morning, yes.”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Hank said.

“There better not be a next time. When’s the concert?”

“It’s a morning thing. You go on stage at eight fifteen. I can’t get your P.A. on the phone. Fill her in when she gets to you if she hasn’t already quit yet. I’m sending the address to your phone and hers.”

Sighing, I hung up the phone, waiting for the message to come through.

I dragged myself to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I showered, shaved, and put on the nicest boots and bucket hat I owned. If I was going to make an appearance at something like this, then I wanted to make it a good one. The understanding I had of my sister and her condition was a direct result of charities like Autism Speaks.

I walked downstairs and headed for the door just as I heard the sound.

Delia’s truck drove up the driveway, and I shook my head. Fuck, the woman was persistent. I had thrown her one of the tougher days on the farm, so she’d go running to the hills and quit like I wanted her to. But it didn’t work. She was driving up my driveway in that rust bucket she owned, ready for another day’s work.