Page 7 of Hawk

I growled as I turned back to see two men behind me. They looked similar and just laughed at me.

“What the fuck do you guys want from me?”

The big man with the long hair stared at me. “We want you to stop fucking fighting in our bar. You can fucking leave if you’re gonna cause a scene.”

“Fuck off. I can sit here and drink if I want.”

I pushed away from them and moved to another barstool. The long hair fucker and Striker sat on either side of me. The two similar lookin’ guys stood behind me while the other guy I tried to fight, Tank, stood behind them with his arms crossed.

Striker tapped the bar top and glared at me. “I’m Striker. And you’ve got some fucking balls for taking on one of our biggest guys. Tank didn’t get his name for no reason. Were you looking to get killed tonight?”

I shrugged. “Don’t fucking care if I do or don’t.”

Striker just shook his head and got up. The man with the long hair shoved my arm.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?”

I glared at him. “Fuck. You. I’m done with this place. You guys are a bunch of fucking annoying assholes.”

I went to get up when he grabbed my arm and slammed me back into the barstool.

“Name is Moose.”

I nodded. “Don’t fucking care.”

“Don’t care if you do, anyway. I’m not here to fucking play games either, so shut your mouth or I can throw you out.”

I sighed and rubbed my head. “I don’t have time for your fucking bullshit. Just point me to the nearest motel.”

“No place around here that will take your ass.”

“Fuck you, man.”

Moose laughed. “You’ve got a real cocky attitude for some druggie.”

“You don’t even fucking know me.”

“Nope. But I’ve been in your shoes, so I can tell. Go back from where you came from and don’t show your face around here again.”

He shoved me off the stool, and I stumbled to the door. Before they could come out and stop me, I jumped on my motorcycle and started it up.

I shouldn’t have been driving, but I didn’t fucking care. Maybe this would be the time karma came for me.

I flew out of the parking lot and down an old dirt road. This fucking godforsaken town had nothing. As I came around a sharp turn, I lost control and came crashing into a huge concrete fence.

My bike crumpled as I went flying off. I just laid there, hoping whatever injuries I had would kill me. Or maybe a wild animal would finally end me.

I could hear the sounds of motorcycles coming and closed my eyes. My head was pounding, and I was having a hard time staying conscious.

“Look at him, man. He’s a fucking wreck. Can’t just leave him here.”

Another voice got closer. “Fuck, Moose. We can leave him. He’s just another druggie. Stop with the bleeding-heart bullshit.”

“Pres…”

“Fine. Get him in, but he’s your responsibility. Don’t fuck this up.”

Large hands lifted me and dragged me toward a gate. I barely remember going into the building before my lights went out.

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