Big Cats and Cowboys | A Striker x Reader Series

Deal

"He's late," I growled, fingers drumming on the hood of my beat up work truck parked in the drive. I had put Shiva up in her kennel with a snack so I could deal with this client without him wetting his pants over a protective tiger. In her place stood Striker, pistol at his hip.

A shiny sports car finally pulled into the drive, its owner a skinny, greasy haired sinner with a missing front tooth, "You certainly don't make the place easy to find, doll."

"They tend to frown on keeping tigers within city limits," I replied, tapping a box sitting next to my knee, "Ten pounds of Alaskan Thunder Fuck and two pounds of Super Silver Haze."

The sinner frowned, "No Blue Dream?"

I sighed and shook my head, "That crap is all over the streets. Why would I grow something every mule with a Dimebag has?"

This seemed to amuse the sinner. Grinning his gap toothed smile, he shrugged, "Can't argue with that logic. Got your money here."

As he held out a gym bag filled with what I knew was cash, Striker stepped forward to take it. The sinner didn't even blink as he handed it over. After a cursory look, my hired gun nodded his approval. 

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, " I said, handing the sinner the box, "As soon as you move this, let me know and I'll make sure you're stocked again."

The moment he left the drive in a cloud of dry dust, I could feel my anxiety ease. I had always hated this part of the job. Turning to Striker, I said, "I could really use a beer right now, what about you?"