The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male Read Online Free PDF Page A

lazily. “Mud’s two feet deep along the way.”
    “What do we do?” said the half-naked woman at the knight’s side.
    Colt gritted his teeth. He kept getting the same damn questions from all these people. He knew it was because they were all drunk—or high—but it was getting tiresome. “I’m with the localfire department. We’re here to evacuate the campground and take you somewhere dry until the situation with your cars can be assessed.”
    “The fire department?” the woman exclaimed in surprise. She gave him an appreciative look that made him uncomfortable. “Really?”
    Damn it. He was tired of babysitting a bunch of drunks. When they’d called him to help out this evening, this was not what he’d had in mind. He’d volunteered, of course, since he’d thought there were people in danger. Not really—turned out that there were just a bunch of idiot teenagers that needed to be fished out of the mud. “Leave your vehicle and head out to the end of the main road. An all-terrain vehicle will be swinging by shortly to pick up more people.”
    They’d already taken several loads of the group—drunk and obnoxious to a nearby motel under renovation. The owner had generously volunteered his rooms for the group at no charge, and Colt wasn’t entirely sure the man knew what he’d gotten into. He pulled a label off a sheet and handed it to the guy. “Put this on your windshield. Leave your keys with me, and your name. We’re making arrangements to have your vehicles removed once the road is safe again.”
    The fire department wasn’t used to dealing with this sort of thing. Getting a cat out of a tree? Fine. Hauling a car out of the mud, sure. Hauling a hundred drunk teenagers out of the mud? Not so much. After watching the fire chief scratch his head for a few minutes, Colt had suggested that they get the keys from the teenagers, tag the cars, and organize a list of who needed to betowed. They could deliver the cars once they were freed from the mud. Problem solved.
    The fire chief had liked that idea. In fact, he’d liked it so much that he’d given Colt the job. And Colt? Well, someday he was going to learn to shut up so he wouldn’t have to deal with idiots like the one standing before him, protectively clutching his keys.
    The man—who was dressed as a barbarian, if the Conan hat was any indication—slapped the sticker on the inside of his windshield and gave Colt a suspicious look. “How can I trust that you won’t steal my car?”
    Colt eyed the 1992 Pontiac the man had been determined to move. The tires were bald, the paint peeling, and he was pretty sure there was a foot of trash on the floorboards of the vehicle. “Not interested, I assure you.”
    The man gave him another skeptical look until another volunteer showed up. Mike. He looked at the barbarian, and then at Colt. “How’s the evacuation coming, Waggoner?”
    “Just about done rounding up keys,” he told Mike. “Then I’ll do one last sweep of the woods to make sure we have everyone.”
    Mike nodded, adjusting in his rain slicker. He glanced over at the kids, then back to Colt. “The rain’s not letting up. Entire campsite’s just about washed out. I was told that a hundred fifty people signed in at the gate, and we’re rounding up the last few right now.”
    Colt nodded, staring into the deep woods, wet and dark with rain. The trees were barely discernible with no moon out and a steady downpour. “Sweep shouldn’t take long, then.”
    Mike nodded. “We’re almost done here. Then you boys can head back home.”
    The barbarian handed his keys to Colt suddenly, and Mike paused, waiting while Colt tagged the keys with the man’s information, and then added them to the pile in the bucket he was carrying. As the two walked away to the main area where the teens were being evacuated, Mike snorted and looked over at Colt. “Isn’t this the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?”
    “It’s pretty up there.”
    “My