“I bet you say that to all the boys, don’t you, sexy?”
Before Savage can answer, the fuckers eating a few stools down decide to show their homophobic side, and it makes the tension tight, hitting maximum boiling point.
The bartender pulls back, crossing his arms, with an unsure look on his face. But my brother looks like he will show these men how he got his road name.
“You did not say what I think you just said.” The sound that leaves my brother is deep, threatening, with a fuck load of warning.
Slipping off the stool, he faces the three men, his shoulders looking bigger as his rage fills him. He is hulking out, right in front of us. Fuckers should have kept their mouths shut. Now they will feel the wrath of Savage, me, and Target.
Target is bisexual but Madalyn is his whole world and he doesn’t need a man to feel complete.
“Oh, I did.” One speaks up, seeming like the leader of the trio. “He is an abomination. Men do not lie with men.”
“Fuck,” Target mutters, slipping from his stool.
I follow, ready to jump in if needed. I know that both Target and Savage can handle themselves, but they also know that I am here if needed.
“Yeah, that is what I thought you said. Who people have sex with should be no one else’s concern, fucker. Where I stick my dick does not affect your life, just like where this person” —He nods to the bartender— “sticks his dick. None of that shit touches you, so keep your homophobic bullshit to yourself.”
Savage’s voice is so eerily calm, it is deadly and makes men cower, but this prick clearly does not value his life.
“I do not want to see that disgusting shit. People like him should have the bitch beaten out of them.”
A snarl rips from Savage, his shoulders doubling in size as he steps forward.
“Listen, why don’t we all take a step back. There is no need for violence, and trashing the place.” The bartender tries to defuse the situation but I shake my head with a grin in place, drawing his attention to me.
He looks pale, scared.
“Oh, honey, we are way past stopping now. Savage here is about to show these cunts how not to be homophobic motherfuckers.”
“Savage?” His voice goes up an octave or two.
“Yeah. They will learn why his road name is ‘Savage’.” I wink.
“Um, should I call the police?” he stammers.
“No, but they will need medical attention,” I say then all hell breaks loose.
Leaning an elbow on the bar, I watch as Target throws punches with one of the men while Savage is tackling two of them. He does not need my help; he is completely handling the fuckers on his own. Snarls and growls add to the sound of flesh hitting flesh.
“Are you going to help?” I look at the bartender and shrug.
“They have it under control.”
Looking around the bar, I see that there is a handful of people watching the fight but do not seem bothered by it. It makes me wonder if these three pricks like to mouth off and people are tired of it.
Target has his fight under control and so does Savage, but I kinda want in on the action. I need to get some of my frustration out about the Val situation.
Linking my fingers together, I crack my joints, and stretch my arms.
One of the men fighting Savage jumps on his back, hitting him in the back of the head.
“Okay, now that it just unfair,” I mutter before moving in, stepping into the fight.
Gripping the material of the fucker’s shirt, I pull him off my brother. He falls to the floor and I take the opportunity to hit him while he is down; he grunts in pain, his face red from exertion.
He swings his arms, trying to connect with me, making me laugh. I raise my arm to hit him again, but I am slammed from the side by two bodies. It is my turn to grunt as I fall to the floor, Savage, and the fucker he was fighting next to me.
