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Anarchist

Autor: Jordan Silver
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Resumen

While Lawton Daniels was abroad fighting to protect his country, someone slaughtered most of what was left of his family. Now he’s back state side and all that’s keeping him standing after the destruction he’d come home to face is the vengeance that strums in his blood. He has no time for entanglements of any kind while he hunts down the ones responsible and when the bedraggled little urchin dragged her beat to shit ass into his yard he had no idea the havoc she was about to wreak on his life. Anarchist is created by Jordan Silver, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Chapter 1Chapter 1: PROLOGUE

"I give a fuck about you and your fucking laws, now get the fuck off my property before I put a hole in your gut, asshole." The middle-aged sheriff's deputy looked at the young man with the assault rifle pointed at his gut.

In his younger days, he maybe would've tested the younger man's mettle, but he wasn't so sure about this one. Word on the street was that he was mean as a rattlesnake and wasn't too fond of anything or anyone, having to do with the law. Funny though, that the man's name was Law.

Lawton Daniels watched the car with the sheriff's insignia pull out of his yard and waited until it was out of sight before returning inside. The young girl was still cowering in the corner, looking scared to death, her face bruised and bloody, clothes torn.

He didn't say anything as he went by her to the little downstairs bathroom to get what he needed to clean her up with. Her eyes followed him around the room like a trapped rat until he sat in front of her to assess the damage.

She flinched when he reached out to touch her face, where her lip was split and bleeding. "Look here; you came to me, remember? Now, if you want my help, you're gonna have to stop the flinching shit, or I'll leave you as you are."

He wasn't known for his tact, and though he was mad as fuck at what he was looking at, he wasn't about to let anyone treat him like a criminal. He knew his reputation; fuck, he'd earned it. But he was a fair man, and like he'd said, she came to him.

"Now you wanna tell me who worked you over?" He'd finished cleaning up the worst of her bruises and put the stuff away. Now it was time to do what he did best. He hated to see anything weak being mistreated; it just burnt a hole in his gut. That's why he'd joined the army, but that's another story.

"You mute or some shit?" He stared at her after she wouldn't answer his question.

"No, sir." She looked down at the floor.

"Kill the sir shit, now tell me what I wanna know." All he got out of her was a name, but that was enough; he'd handle the rest.

"You stay inside when I'm gone, okay! You'll be safe enough here until I get back." He reassured the girl when he saw the fear in her eyes at his announcement that he was leaving.

"Just one thing, don't try going out the door; you're sure to get a bullet in the head that way. I've got the place rigged for assholes, so unless I'm with you, don't go moving around." He took one last look at the bedraggled beat-to-shit woman before heading out the door.

Hopping on his hog, he turned to his men, who were already mounted up. "Ride out." They knew what was coming; hell, they'd all seen the girl crawl into the yard on her hands and knees about an hour ago.

Of course, he knew who she was now, or knew of her at least; but how had she known to come to him? Most people, especially the ones of the female persuasion, steered clear of him, except maybe the ones who wanted his dick.

They'd all watched the poor thing drag herself across the yard, their guns drawn until they'd noticed what it was that was crawling, and one of the guys had picked her up and brought her up to the porch.

***

They pulled into the yard twenty minutes later. The heavyset man had been sitting out on his porch looking mean and surly until he saw them coming. He jumped up from his seat and headed for the door, but Law jumped off his bike while it was still in motion and bounded up the short steps, pulling his gun in one smooth motion.

He slammed the magazine into the gun loud enough for the man to know what the fuck he was hearing. It stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Anyone else in there?" The fool turned his head, looking like he was about to shit himself. "Ju…just my wife."

"Boys, go check it out." A few of Law's men walked past them into the house. Brandon was soon back with a half a woman who didn't look much better than the one he'd left back at his place. This one hadn't been worked over half as bad, but still.

"Where's your daughter?" He turned back to the man, who seemed to have lost the ability to speak all of a sudden. Next, he turned to the woman. "Where's your kid?" she looked at the big man in fear.

"Don't look at him; I'm asking you a question; you have a daughter; where the fuck is she?"

"I don't know." She barely whispered the words as she hung her head in shame, and her shoulders shook with silent tears.

Law didn't push her any farther; he understood that fear someone had for a bully who'd probably been terrorizing them all their life.

He understood it, but he'd be fucked if he'd excuse any mother who stood by and watched what had happened to the young girl happen to her own kid. He was pretty sure it wasn't the first time either.

"Brand, take her inside and let her get her shit together; we're taking her outta here." The woman's head came up, and the look of hope on her face made Law's guts burn. How long had she been waiting to hear those fucking words?

The man turned, glaring eyes her way, but Law was ready for him. "Don't look at her asshole; you go on in, Miss, and grab your daughter's shit too while you're at it; she wasn't carrying much when she crawled onto my place this morning."

"Now you!" he grabbed the bigger man by the throat and pulled him off the porch. The rest of his men stood around with arms folded like they were watching paint dry.

"You like beating up on women and little girls, huh?" he threw the man down in the dirt and stood over him. As soon as he caught his breath, the man scampered back on his hands and heels, his eyes peeled to Law to see what he would do next.

When he got to his knees, Law used his foot in his chest to kick him back down Spartan style. Law loved that fucking movie; that was one motherfucker that didn't give a shit about the odds.

The man kept his eyes on the gun in Law's hand as he laid in the dirt. "I'll tell you what, how about I put this away, and we go at it mano y mano, huh? Boys, I'm gonna fight this piece a shit bare-fisted; if he gets the drop on me, no one is to touch him, understood?"

The man started to look hopeful and a little brave as he got to his feet; after all, he had about fifty pounds on the younger man. Law's announcement was greeted with a few 'yeahs and yeps,' but there was one voice he hadn't heard, and that was the one that counted most.

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