Redneck
Jordan Silver
Contents
Introduction
Series by Jordan Silver
Other Titles by Jordan Silver
author’s website
copyright
1. T-Bone
2. T-Bone
3. T-Bone
4. T-Bone
5. Melanie
6. T-Bone
7. T-Bone
8. T-Bone
9. T-Bone
10. T-Bone
11. T-Bone
12. Melanie
13. Melanie
Epilogue
Introduction
T-Bone Riley is a man of few words. Raised pretty much off the grid his whole life, he tends to see things a little different. Now that he's all alone after the death of his dad, he's thinking it may be time to find him some company. Seeing as he's a throwback to the old days, when he sees the little filly's ass on the campus grounds, he doesn't think there's a damn thing wrong with nabbing her and taking her back to the farm to warm his bed and bear his children.
Series by Jordan Silver
Redneck
Jordan Silver
Now Available for Preorder
Savage
Titles by Jordan Silver
SEAL Team Series
Connor
Logan
Zak
Tyler
Cord
The Lyon Series
Lyon’s Crew
Lyon’s Angel
Lyon’s Way
Lyon’s Heart
Lyon’s Family
Passion
Passion
Rebound
The Pregnancy Series
His One Sweet Thing
The Sweetest Revenge
Sweet Redemption
The Spitfire Series
Mouth
Lady Boss
Beautiful Assassin
The Protectors
The Guardian
The Hit Man
Anarchist
Season One
Season Two
Eden High
Season One
Season 2
What A Girl Wants
Taken
Bred
Sex And Marriage
My Best Friend’s Daughter
Loving My Best Friend’s Daughter
The Bad Boy Series
The Thug
Bastard
The Killer
The Villain
The Champ
The Mancini Way
Catch Me if You Can
The Bad Girls Series
The Temptress
The Seductress
Other Titles by Jordan Silver
His Wants (A Prequel)
Taking What He Wants
Stolen
The Brit
The Homecoming
The Soccer Mom’s Bad Boy
The Daughter In Law
Southern Heat
His Secret Child
Betrayed
Night Visits
The Soldier’s Lady
Billionaire’s Fetish
Rough Riders
Stryker
Caleb’s Blessing
The Claiming
Man of Steel
Fervor
My Little Book of Erotic Tales
Tryst
His Xmas Surprise
Tease
Brett’s Little Headaches
Strangers in The Night
My Little Farm Girl
The Bad Boys of Capitol Hill
Bad Boy
The Billionaire and The Pop Star
Gabriel’s Promise
Kicking and Screaming
His Holiday Gift
Diary of a Pissed Off Wife
The Crush
The Gambler
Sassy Curves
Dangerously In Love
The Billionaire
The Third Wife
Talon’s Heart
Naughty Neighbors
Forbidden
Deception
Texas Hellion
Illicit
Queen of My Heart
The Wives
Biker’s Baby Girl
Broken
Indiscretion
The Good Girl
The Forever Girl
Biker’s Law
Bad Santa
Jordan Silver Writing as Jasmine Starr
The Purrfect Pet Series
Pet
Training His Pet
His Submissive Pet
Breeding His Pet
Jordan Siler Writing as Tiffany Lordes
American Gangster
Double The Trouble
author’s website
http://jordansilver.net
copyright
License Notes
All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher/author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Jordan Silver
First eBook edition: December 2016
1
T-Bone
Most people always want to be somewhere, seeing something, being something or doing something else. Anything other than what they are right then and there. No one’s content with their lot in life…. And then you have those who just don’t give a fuck. Like me. Name’s T-Bone!
I have a whole other way of doing things. I live by my own rules and don’t give that fuck about who likes it or not. It comes from having been raised off the grid most of my life I guess. Out here where I am, it’s just me and the land and whatever nature sends my way.
When you live the way I did the first half of my life, you learn to make your own rules and they mostly revolve around survival. My rules and this man’s laws don’t necessarily jive together. The law tends to be a bit confused as to what’s right and wrong if you ask me. And that’s where we part company.
For instance, like the time I came back home to the farm early, after heading into town, and caught my fiancée and some pampered dick heating up the sheets. I didn’t say nothing, didn’t make no fuss. I never was one to waste my time and energy.
I just stood in that doorway watching for a minute or so before I called out, ‘hey y’all.’ Then pulled my gun and blew them both to kingdom come. I made sure they were done for, even a wild animal deserves to be put out of its misery after all, and without missing a beat turned right around and took myself off down to the sheriff’s office.
“Sheriff, I just shot me two rabid coons in heat.” That was on account of if anyone had heard those shots outside of hunting season there wouldn’t be much of a fuss about it. Folks tend to stick their nose in sometimes where they not needed.
I’d headed back home to the farm and fed my hogs and that was that. Wasn’t much fuss to be made in these parts since no one knew too much about the gal seeing as she was an outsider and hadn’t been around all that long.
If she hadn’t traipsed her ass into town that one time to lord it over the town folk with her finery they wouldn’t have known she was here in the first place. But like I said, folks around here are nosy and they noticed a lot.
The story started floating around about how poor T-Bone had been done wrong. How his fancy fiancée had up and ran off with her beau. Now the thing is, most believed that, because to them I’m about the sorriest sight thi
s side a Texas. I tend to like it that way.
I have a face full of hair, and the one on my head grows down past my shoulders. I could hardly remember what I looked like before the age of sixteen. That’s because it was about then that I’d started growing that beard a mine and covering half my face with a bandana and my eyes with some cheap Dollar General shades.
Well, the men might say all manner of things, but if they only knew what some of their women offer me with their eyes, they’d grow a beard too. But it’s none of my business, and I’m all about minding my own.
Now some might say I could afford not to give a fuck because of the money, but that ain’t true. I was just wired that way somehow and through life and circumstance it had only grown worse over time. Money didn’t have spit to do with it. A man’s mettle should never be measured by such a thing. No real man’s anyhow.
I guess you’ll be wanting to know how a scruffy scalawag like me came by so much money as to be able to thumb my nose at convention. Well now, that’s a story in itself.
My daddy was the meanest so and so this side a Texas, come to think of it on either side. Word around town is he’d worked my mama into the ground with backbreaking work and pure old cussedness and had started in on me as soon as I could pick my head up. Word ain’t worth shit.
I was all of six or seven when my mama up and died, and daddy took me out of school to help around the farm, which wasn’t much of one to begin with.
We had a few head of cattle, some hogs, and maybe a sheep or two. Not much when you think about it. What we did have; was a stud bull that bred just about every heifer in a thousand mile radius. He was mean too.
The town folk’s tongues got to wagging early on-on account of how pitiful we looked whenever we were out and about. Folks tend to judge a man by his clothes or what kinda truck he drove, more so than what he had on the inside.
I used to follow my old man to town in a pair of old pants that were held up by rope because they were too big around the middle, with my ankles showing because they were too short in the legs. An old ratty shirt with the sleeves gnawed off by a hound dog and an old straw hat that was more straw than hat.
Some folks use to say that the old man used to be a right good looking feller in his younger days. How my daddy used to get to hooting and hollering, and raising hell.
That was before the cares of the world beat him down and he just about gave up on life, except for his wife and son. Folks used to whisper that I was shaping up to be just like ‘im.
I didn’t talk much, not then and not now, so folks got to minding our business. Once they’d even got the county to send a social worker out to our place.
In the end them folks couldn’t figure how the old man was such an abuser since there was never a scratch on me and I looked up to him something fierce.
Sure he’d taken me outta school to help out, but I’d taken myself down to the schooling place and signed me up for homeschooling. The busybodies in town didn’t know that. Then again there was a lot they didn’t know.
My daddy, he wasn’t much for talking either. He spoke in spit, grunts and ‘git it boy.’ That last was to a mean old dog he had around the place that he’d sic on anything with two feet and a heartbeat.
He used to sic ‘im on me too. That dog would run my poor ass up a tree every time, until I turned him to my side. I’d feed him scraps when daddy wasn’t looking and after that there was no more fun for the old man.
Then one day the old bull up and kicked daddy in the balls. He probably decided there was only room for one stud on the farm and he was it. The two of them sure did have an ornery relationship.
So now daddy from that day was always just fair to middling and I was the one left to keep the place up. It was back breaking work to be sure, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I got to enjoy the outdoors as much as I like, and do as I please even down to swimming bare assed naked down by the creek.
2
T-Bone
Now how we come by all this money. The Rileys, that’s our last name, were land rich and dirt poor for as long as anyone could remember. Old Silas, my daddy, had inherited the land from his daddy and his daddy from his and so on and so forth going back a couple hundred years.
There wasn’t never much of nothing good coming from it, until that day I went to walking to get away from daddy’s misery. I’d just turned eighteen and my days were spent taking care of the animals and him. Scared that I was gonna lose him just like I’d lost mama and be all-alone.
I didn’t mind being alone so much it’s what I was used to. But if daddy died then I wouldn’t have nobody on this earth, nary a soul. I hadn’t given it much thought until now and that’s what got me to walking the land lost in my own head.
I could go into town and make me a few friends I guess. There was always somebody trying to talk to me wherever I went. But I wasn’t too fond of city ways and wasn’t much interested in them coming out here neither.
So there I was walking the land and thinking about what was to become of me. I was throwing a stick for that old dog to catch not really paying too much mind when it happened. The stick landed in the brush somewheres and that poor dog got to whining something awful until I went and got it out.
That’s when I found it. Texas gold. The darkest purest oil anyone had seen in these parts in some time. I knew what it was right then and there but it didn’t mean much to me. Like all the men of my family before me, I was very content with my life as it was.
Not that money wouldn’t be nice. But it wasn’t as good as having daddy back on his feet and healthy.
Well, the money started coming in after that, and anyone who thought they could get over on me had another think coming. I was smarter than most folks gave me credit for.
I’d taken to that schooling well enough on my own and knew what was what. No accountants and lawyers for me. I figured the old timers didn’t need one and neither did I.
I took to reading anything I could get my hands on to help me wade through the muck and mire of the money grubbers who all came calling with their hands out. Thing is, I mostly read the stuff one of my great grandfathers had left behind. It worked then I don’t see why it can’t work now. Far as I know nobody changed them laws in over two hundred years.
Well after the oil made us rich as Croesus, daddy up and died from his swollen ball predicament leaving me a very rich but lonely man. That’s where the fiancée came in.
Now most folks thought I was simple minded on account of I never had more than my home schooling and stayed mostly to myself not really having any friends or anyone to talk to.
So some shyster with a little less money than me but what he considered better pedigree decided he could keep his family coffers full by marrying off his daughter to the redneck simpleton. People ought not to judge a book by its cover.
I hadn’t been in love with the trollop, not that she wasn’t pretty enough, she was. But I’d gone along with it even though I knew what the man was up to.
I figured it was about time at twenty-six to settle down and have me a kid or two to help run the place anyway. She was pretty enough to look at so it wouldn’t be a chore to bed her, and I’d have me a body to share the nights with at least.
But I don’t cotton to being betrayed. It’s one thing that she was after my money, but to bring her lover in my home, the home that has been in my family for generations, was a slight I cannot and will not forgive.
After I’d shot her and the adulterer and fed them to my hogs, I’d gone off and bought all the surrounding land because I was plum tired of people. I was mad as spit to tell the truth and anyone who’d come nosing around my place back then wouldn’t have made it off.
So to keep the peace and leave the population alive a little longer than they deserved, I’d bought out everyone around. I tore down homes, buildings and whatever else was in my way, until there was nothing left but the old log cabin that had been sitting on the land for well nigh two hundred years. My home
.
The gal that was supposed to be my wife hadn’t been too pleased with the living arrangements but she’d convinced herself that she could talk me into building her the biggest mansion in the state on account of she was so pretty and all.
There was never any chance in hell of that happening. I was born and raised in that cabin and I aim to die the same. I see now that she never would’ve fit in around here and truth is I don’t think anyone would.
Now I have four hundred thousand acres of wide-open space all to myself. I wasn’t lonely so much as I was tired of my own damn company. All that was left for me to do of an evening after the work was done was to walk or ride that land.
Then one day, I was off walking by my lonesome and I got a feeling. I went to digging on account of that feeling and wouldn’t you know it, there was oil right there where the Piggly Wiggly once stood.
The money kept rolling in but I was starting to get lonesome. I’d hired some hotshot to come out and teach me how to use the computer so I could do my business more efficiently and now it took me less than an hour in the mornings to look over everything.
Now that was a story in itself. That feller was just like everybody else. He took one look at me and saw a redneck with nary a lick a sense and figured he could take advantage. I played along like I was empty between the ears, all the while learning all I needed, or all he knew anyways.
Then one day, I caught him trying to get into my personal files and the night before I’d found the doohickey he’d put on my computer so he could track everything I did and I got to shooting again. Yes sir, I hauled off and shot him in the ass.
After he had ran screaming to his car and hightailed it outta here, I took myself down to the bookstore and bought out every book they had on the subject of computers and taught myself what I needed to know. Now I can take one of them fool things apart and put it back together.
Redneck Page 1
