“Congratulations. But, like I said, I’m waiting for my date to come out.” I crossed my arms. “Please leave me alone.”
Brad took a step closer to me, followed by his ‘bros,’ and I stiffened.
“I’m pretty sure the lady asked you to leave her alone,” I heard Snarlsay from behind.
I turned to see Snarl standing with his arms folded, his biceps bulging.
Now, I would have thought that the mere sight of a big ol’ bad-ass biker would have been enough to scare these guys away, but it didn’t.
“Hey, man, we were just talking,” Brad said.
“No, you were harassing her. Now, take a hike,man.”
“No reason to be rude,” Brad said. “All I was trying to do was have a conversation with this lovely young lady.”
Snarl smiled. “Well, now your conversation is over and it’s time for you and your friends to move on with your evening and leave the lady alone.”
“Sorry, man, but I don’t see a ringon her finger. And by the looks of you, I’m betting you couldn’t afford to buy her one unless it came out of a gumball machine. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? It’s Armani.”
Snarl stopped smiling. “I don’t give a shit if it’s asbestos. This is the last time I’m gonna say this. Get lost and stay lost.”
“Oooooooh. I’m scared now,” he mocked. “Is that what you were trying to do? Huh? Scare me. If you didn’t notice, there’s three of us and only one of you. Or are you too fuckin’ dumb to count?”
“You’re right. It’s three to one. Bad odds for you,” Snarl replied.
“You think a dirtbag in a leather vest is gonna scare me?” Brad asked, taking a step closer to Snarl and puffing out his chest.
“It’s not a vest, it’s a cut, and these are my colors,” Snarl said pointing to his back. “I’d advise you show some respect.”
“You think thatvestmakes you look tough?”
“I don’t know.” Snarl shrugged. “Do you think your broken jaw makes you look tough?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have a bro—”
Before he could finish the sentence, Snarl cold cocked the asshat so hard his feet actual left the ground. He then turned to the other two and let out a low deep growl. “Pick that piece of shit up and get him out of my sight or I’ll send both of you to the ground right next to him.”
Brad’s two bros picked him upwithout hesitation and began dragging his limp body away.
“Holy shit, he really broke Brad’s fucking jaw,” one of them said to the other.
“Ahhhhm gaanaaah fushing sue yoooh, yoooh fushing assssshhhole,” Brad gargled as he gained consciousness.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“Shut the fuck up Brad,” one of the bros said as they began dragging him away.
“Hold on, a second,” Snarl said, before bending down and taking Brad’s wallet from his suit pocket. “Listen here, Brad Parsons,” he said, reading from Brad’s driver’s license. “Who resides at 4216 Parkview Terrace apartments, unit 302. When I get back home tonight, I’m gonna tell the members of my club all aboutyou and your friends here. And if I ever so much as hear your name or see your face again, me and my club will kidnap you, beat you half to death, and then make you watch as we do the same to your friends and family members. Then we’ll finish the job we started on you. Do you understand me?”
Brad moaned.
“You,” Snarl said to one on Brad’s buddies. “Grab him by his hair.”
Brad’s buddy did as he was told.
“Good, now make him nod ‘yes.’”
Again, Brad’s buddy complied. Nodding Brad’s concussed skull like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
