Page 6 of Hawk

I laughed and stood closer to him. It looked like I was gonna get in a good fight tonight and maybe even take that woman home, anyway.

I pushed him, and he stumbled back. He was clearly too drunk to fight tonight. He roared and rushed forward, pushing bar stools out of his way.

Opening my arms, I let him tackle me to the ground. I needed to feel that first hit to get my blood going.

Everybody moved as we rolled around, getting punches in where we could. Two enormous hands pulled me off the man while another grabbed the flannel hillbilly and tossed him aside.

“Get your woman and go home, Bobby.”

The man grumbled and wiped the blood off his lip. “Fuck you, Striker.”

“I’ll come by later for your ass. Go home and cool off. Take care of him, Brandy Lynn. Call me if you need anything.”

The brunette nodded and pulled her boyfriend out of the bar. I turned to see the gigantic man standing above me with his hand still on my shoulder. I quickly shrugged him off as I eyed him up and down.

I needed more drugs ASAP. I could already feel the pain setting in. I went to turn to the bathroom when he grabbed my arm.

In a slight Russian accent, the large man spoke to me. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“Fuck off, man.”

I walked over to the bar and ordered another shot. The bartender looked behind me, then walked away.

Looking back, the fucking asshole was behind me again.

“I said time to go.”

I cracked my knuckles and whipped around. I went to throw a punch, but the guy caught my hand in his. He twisted my arm behind my back until I was face first on the bar.

“Fuck you! I don’t want to stay in this shithole, anyway.”

I slipped out from underneath him and clocked him in the jaw. He barely moved, and the bar got quiet.

“Wrong move, motherfucker.”

The man punched me clean in the face and I went flying back. He picked me up by the collar of my shirt as I kicked and tried to hit him back.

He threw me to the ground and kicked me in the side. I groaned as I rolled to protect my stomach. When I felt nothing, I looked up to see four guys in leather cuts standing around me.

“Alright, Tank. I think he got the memo.”

Another man with long hair leaned over me and helped me up.

“You okay?”

“Could be better.”

He laughed and grabbed a shot for me. The first guy, Striker, pushed me into the bar, spilling the tequila all over.

“What the fuck is your deal, man? Coming into my bar, hitting on women and fighting men twice your size?”

“Fuck you.”

The big man I fought, Tank, laughed as he sat down. I turned to him and glared.

“Fuck you, too.”

He shrugged as he sipped a beer. “Not my type, pretty boy.”

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