“Run for your lives!” he yelled. “He’s coming!Lawd, he’s coming!”
“What the fuck?” Garrett said.
My brothers ran past me, chased by the biggest tom turkey I had ever seen. It was the size of a large dog, its colorful feathers fanned out behind it. The giant bird gobbled at the top of its lungs as it chased my brothers. Archer climbed up a tree, dragging Davy and Henry with him. The turkey saw me, turned, and raced toward me.
“Dude, run!” Weston shouted.
“I’m not afraid of that turkey. He’s more afraid of me than I am of him,” I said confidently.
The turkey apparently had not received the memo, because it sprinted at me, showing no sign of slowing. Weston yanked me out of the way as the turkey careened through the spot where I had just stood. It made a U-turn and headed back in my direction.
“This is a shameful display,” Greg said loudly as we all raced for the nearest tree. Then he cursed as the turkey headed for him.
“It’s especially sad, because turkeys can fly,” Remy said with a laugh.
“Oh, shit!”
The bird had gotten wise that we were climbing trees and changed his tactics.
“I need to call Avery and tell her I’m not going to make it,” I said as the turkey flapped up into the tree next to mine and went after Parker.
“Every man for himself!” Archer yelled.
“Blade?” I heard Avery’s voice.
“Avery?” I looked down. The pocket with my phone in it was lit up.
“Sorry!” I shouted over the yelling and the gobbling. “My phone assistant must have called you.”
“Do you need me to call the police?” she asked.
“Call the fire department!” Davy screeched from his perch in the tree.
The turkey spread its wings, gave a powerful flap, and landed in my tree. I took off my hat and threw it at the bird. It chased it down to the ground and proceeded to attack and tear at the hat.
“Retreat, men!” Archer yelled.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Weston said, helping several of our younger brothers down from a tree. “Sorry, Blade. This was the lamest bachelor party ever.”
59
Avery
Blade looked a little frazzled when he arrived home that evening. I looked up from my Regency romance novel as he trooped into the living room.
“The famed hunter lives to tell another tale,” I said, closing the book.
“Barely,” Blade said, sprawling out on the couch and resting his head in my lap.
I stroked my fingers through his hair.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
“No strippers at the bachelor party?”
“There was a giant turkey. Then I had to spend the next two hours carefully checking all my little brothers for ticks.”
“Should have gone to a fancy hotel,” I sing-songed. “No ticks in hotels.”
