[Complete] When young Boone Rigger is pulled into the most fierce Gunslinger Tournament in the country, he must find the courage to kill, or be buried six feet underground.
The Iron Alchemist: Slinger Wars Book 1
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No matter how hard Leslie tried her mind wouldn't allow her the pleasure of sleep.
She sat dazed, staring at the bed, watching for the faintess movement; boot ready to bring about the end for any creature fixing to use her brother as a midnight snack...though it never came again.
The smell of the dead rat must've kept them away, or so she imagined. Why else had they gone? Rats were relentless afterall; waiting like roaches in the dark to strike when the light in the room settled and stir of sounds silenced. Yet still she waited. Worried for what may come next—
Three taps on the door nearly had her reach for the revolver on her hip. She eyed the door, lip sunken.
Who'd come at this hour? Leslie wondered. Boris and Barrot came when first they heard of Rynan's fate, comforting her with food and words of hope, and visiting each morning thereafter to see of his little improvements. And then there was Jack who talked nothing of marriage or the ranch, which she appreciated; only there to hold her while she wept and whispered words that'd ease her soul. He always knew how to do that...Keep her from hating herself for the things she couldn't control.
But the one person she yearned for...the one person who made everything better by just being present hadn't come. Hadn't brought her hope or warmed her soul, or been there as she thought he would or should. Sure, he was never the most comforting man, but before the colosseum's she could sense and see the change in him; see the man he was becoming.
The others knew not to come in the dead of night, to allow her brother rest, yet he did not know such thing, nor would be stopped even if she insisted.
"Jostice," she whispered, rising from her seat. A smile working over her lips.
It took three steps to reach the door and once there she hesitated. Her hand felt the icy sting of the revolver steel. Eyes widened.
What if they've come to finish the job? The words were so strong in her mind she'd forgotten of the stink and the dead rat that twitched on the floor. "The Yurks had attacked them for a reason."
Leslie spun against the wall, yanking her revolver to her chest. Eyes narrowing. She grabbed the door knob and whispered, "who is it?" The revolver hammer cocked.
A muffled, deep and harsh sound made her tremble only for a moment. "You going to let me in or not, darlin'?"
"Kenneth?" The was no mistaken that voice.
Last Lealie heard he'd stayed behind in Lone Creek to help investigate a brawl at Baxters; he'd been at the bar all night and just thirty minutes after he'd gone there came a scuffle.
