“We can’t let them in like this! Not with the scrawny cunt fucking dressed up like some half-arsed nancy boy. You fuckers take your fucking rings ...ut of your cunts, or we’ll fucking pull them out. And you, chicken shit!” he addressed Tracey. “You take off that fucking shirt or whatever you call it on your fucking tits. There ain’t no clothes allowed for bitches here. Bitches don’t have the fucking right. I don’t know what your fucking cunt-arse government lets you fuckers get away with: but. She’d have to leave before dawn to have any hope of setting her stake before anyone else.“Where did you get this?” Caleb’s hoarse whisper dragged her attention back to him. She smiled as he cradled the flask like a newborn.“I made it shortly after I married my husband and set it into barrels in 1884.” She sighed heavily as she remembered Benjamin’s insistence that nobody cared if her bourbon had been aged. “That’s the last of it.”He handed the flask back to her and slapped his thighs with both. More

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