Redneck Read online

  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.