Page 119 of Apex of the Curve

They burst out laughing about something and high-fived each other and I didn’t care except they were ruining my peace and damn quiet.

“Hey, hey yo!” one of them called out, and I knew it was to me. I just ignored them. I was on parole for another year and I had absolutely no desire to go back to the state pen and finish that bid off, fuck them very much.

“I’m talking to you!” he shouted, irritated.

“Hey! Knock it the fuck off, boys, or you can get the fuck out my bar,” Raven told ‘em.

“Shut up and just keep pouring the fuckin’ drinks, sweetheart,” one of them called out. I turned, just in time to see him grab his crotch and tell her, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Nice.

“Some people’s fuckin’ children, man,” I said slowly. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Man, fuck you!” the dude’s buddy, some Asian kid, said laughing.

“I don’t swing that way,” I said, turning back to the bar. “More power to you if you do, though.”

I have no fuckin’ idea what happened next. I heard something snap, shouting, and a white light flared through my vision as the back of my head erupted in pain. Next thing I knew, I hit the sticky barroom floor, face first and next, my ribs exploded in fire.

I managed to get up, more shouting, as I groped blindly and spilled out of the exit and onto the front sidewalk.

I couldn’t get air, I couldn’t breathe and I had a second to think through my drunken haze, goddammit! They got the drop on me.

What came next was probably the most brutal ass kicking of my life, and that’s including the one I took in that yard fight when I was locked up.

I took a sneaker to the face and grimaced, immediately tasting blood as kicks and blows rained down on me.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three deafeningly loud rapid reports sounded. I heard some muffled shouts and screams, the thudding of rapid footsteps down the sidewalk and then the smell of essential oils assaulted my nose.

“Come on Mace, you gotta get up! Cops are coming for sure and we need to not be here when they do.”

I struggled, but things didn’t want to quite work. My eyes were swelling shut and every time I breathed in, it was like breathing so much bitter broken glass. I spit and tasted nothing but copper.

“Come on, Mace! Help me!” a woman’s voice cried, and I struggled to my feet. My head swam with liquor and a beatdown. I don’t remember shit else after that.