Ralph hands him a shot filled to the brim. Duke swallows the liquid fire in one gulp, then slams the glass on the bar.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nah.”
“I’m around if you ever need a listening ear, but you gotta go home.”
“Fine,” I grumble.
“Make some java for our inebriated friend here.”
“You got it, boss,” Ralph replies.
“Be back in twenty, then I’ll give you a lift home.” Duke squeezes my shoulder before sauntering out the door.
A couple minutes later, a cup of steaming coffee is placed in front of me.
“Drink up,” Ralph says, then hustles to the other end of the bar to flirt with a woman sitting there.
“Look who’s here,” Jake sneers.
Even in my drunken state, I recognize the asshole’s voice. I swivel in my seat, holding the mug in my hand. My archnemesis and two of his cronies surround me. The bad blood between our schools runs deep. This year, the stakes are higher because our futures hang in the balance. I’ve been named quarterback of Montgomery Academy’s football team. Jake received the same title at Louisville, over in the neighboring county.
He surveys the dimly lit bar. “Where are Dee and Nix?”
“I ditched them.”
“It’s not smart to drink alone.”
I give a half shrug. “I can take care of myself.”
“Getting drunk isn’t going to curb your psychotic tendencies,” he jeers, face twisting in contempt. “Your nickname is Mad Maverick for a reason. Everyone knows you belong in the loony bin.”
“How’s the finger?” I smirk.
His jaw clenches.
We got into a brawl several weeks back that resulted in his pinky being broken.
“Just say the word, Jake.” Crony one cracks his knuckles.
He holds up his hand and wiggles his fingers. “All good now, but you know what… Idoowe you an ass whooping.”
I stand, prepared to throttle the first motherfucker who steps in my direction. “Is that so?”
Crony two swings and I duck, barely missing the blow. I throw the hot brew in his face and he howls in agony.
Jake punches me in the nose, and I crash into a nearby table, blood pouring from my nostrils. The patrons scramble for cover. Three against one and I’m wasted… hell, this won’t end well for me. I could take them all on if I weren’t plastered.
“Duke’s gonna be pissed.” I hear Ralph groan.
I smash the mug across Jake’s temple, and he drops to his knees, clutching his bleeding head. Crony one takes ahold of my right arm and crony two seizes the left. They drag me to the pool table and slam me on top of it, pinning my wrists to the slate. Jake clambers over.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarls and starts hammering on my midsection.
Damn, this fucker hits hard. A gunshot rings out, effectively putting an end to the scuffle. I push up on my elbows and see Duke pointing a gun at the ceiling.
“No fighting in my fucking bar!” he bellows.
