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His dad turned on the cowboys, glaring. “Did you, now? Well, boys, we don’t hold with that shit here.”

“She’s a fucking dyke!”

Dalton thought that if he hit the bastard again, it might clear up the slurring….

It was the elder Jakoby who stepped up to the plate this time, grabbing the kid by the front of the shirt. “This rodeo company is friendly to everyone but assholes, boy.”

It was good to be a gay man with a rodeo company where Granddaddy had a gay son, and his daddy had three out of five. Granddaddy didn’t hold with any hate—whether it be religion or race or who you fucked.

“You old—”

“Jay!” the kid who’d tried to intervene barked hard. “Come on. We’re outnumbered.”

“Fuck you. Fuck all y’all!”

“You ever notice how they all reduce down to obscenities?” Dustin drawled.

“Yup.” Ben cracked his knuckles. “Was there beer?”

“There is.” Dalton didn’t bother to look over; Ben and Dustin had his back. “You want me to make sure they go, Pops?”

“You and Dustin. No one goes alone until we know they’re out.” Pops turned to Cheri. “You okay, girl?”

“Yes, Pops. Thank you. Just a bruise, huh?”

“Well, someone get the lady some ice.”

Dustin grinned at him, nodding toward the parking area. “Come on, Dee.”

“Lead on, MacDuff.” He didn’t worry. Between Ben and the bullfighters, they were covered. No one would attack them all.

“That was pure poetry, by the way. Those punches.”

He managed a decent bow as he walked. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Dustin clapped him on the back when he straightened. “Ben was looking good too, for all that he lands on his head all the time. I’m surprised Tony didn’t wade in.”

“Yeah.” That man had been grumpy, sure as shit. “Tony’s not bad for a bullfighter.”

“Now…. What does that mean, kiddo?”

The voice was as familiar and unwelcome as any he’d heard in damn near eight years.

Tank.

Tank Martin.

Well, he’d be goddamned.

Chapter Two

PRECIOUS LITTLEsurprised Thomas “Tank” Martin these days.

He’d worked the tiny shows, the big show. He’d seen good men trampled in the arena, and he’d seen pieces of shit win a million dollars because they were white and the biggie wows didn’t want another brown champion. He’d seen a lot.

But he hadn’t seen Dalton Jakoby kicking ass and taking names like an avenging angel.

His mouth was dry, and he was hard as diamonds, his entire body feeling like he was on fire.