Chapter 7

Randy told himself it was that breach of respectability that had him rubbing his wrist violently. It had absolutely nothing to do with the vibrations radiating from hand to chest—vibrations that were actually so far from painful it would have been laughable to use the word. He should have been able to still the shake in his voice, though. He couldn’t.

“Oh, that’s nice. Real nice. Mr. Big and Bad.” Randy set both feet and straightened his spine as if another toss wasn’t just probable, but likely. “Is that what they teach you out here in the sticks? Is that what passes for respectable behavior out here?”

“Damn more respectable than getting your hand cut off.” Evil Dad’s voice was firm, but he watched Randy rub his wrist with what Randy figured had to be at least a little bit of guilt. “Nobody ever teach you that you don’t go grabbing someone when they’re holding a running chainsaw?”