Big Cats and Cowboys | A Striker x Reader Series

Striker

Leaning back in my chair, I groaned in exasperation and rubbed my eyes. Twenty people were interviewed and all of them were either too damn sketchy to trust or too scared of Shiva to take the job. I just wanted to hide in my veg room with my earbuds in and ignore the world.

"Am I too late to apply?" A southern drawl made me look up. A tall imp stood grinning wolfishly in the doorway. I looked him over, noting no visible gang tattoos or track marks from needles. 

"Can you shoot a gun?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I would have bet money he would, but who knows? It could have been a fashion statement.

Laughing, the imp crossed his arms, "I could give you a demonstration, but you would need to provide the ammo. That shit's getting expensive."

Fair point. 

"Ever been convicted of robbery?"

"Not my cup of tea, darlin'. I prefer to work for what I have."

I grit my teeth, not enjoying the darlin' comment. But moving along, I motioned to the sleeping Shiva curled up behind my chair, "What about a tiger? Can you deal with one as a coworker?"

The imp seemed amused, "One cat is just as much the same as another, no matter the size."

Getting to my feet, I held out my hand, "One more question. What's your name?"

Gripping my hand in a firm shake, he answered, "They call me Striker."

"Well, Striker," I replied, "Glad to have you on board."