“Well, they weren’t. Next time, keep your grabby paws off my brownies, asshole.”
“So touchy,” he tsks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume I hit a nerve. Oh, wait, I did.”
“You really are an asshole, Rivera.”
“An asshole who sees right through you.”
“So I’m just going to assume you’re prickly because our favoriteDocis giving you the boot.”
The muscle in his jaw tics. “She isn’t giving me the boot. She’s just being a brat.”
“A brat who can’t stand you.” I smirk at him, knowing I’m getting under his skin. “You know, you should be nicer to me. After all, she’s best friends with Jessica and all that. At least one of us has game here.”
“Well, let’s hope yourgamesdon’t come back to bite you in the ass.”
Just then the radio buzzes to life, and Kathy’s voice comes through the speakers, “Units, disturbance in progress. Multiple intoxicated subjects fighting over at The Hut.”
Nico and I exchange a look before I grab the radio. “Roger that. We’re en route.”
Nico checks the road before making a sharp U-turn, then presses his foot harder against the gas pedal.
“It’s probably nothing, but Mick doesn’t really call often, so…” Nico comments as he drives through the quiet streets of our little town.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the bar. The doors are open, and loud noises are coming from inside as we slide out of thecruiser, and they only grow louder as we make our way to the building.
The Hut is a madhouse. A crowd has gathered to watch the show as the two men throw punches and yell at each other. Not just that, they’re openly cheering and egging them on as they place bets.
Mick’s standing behind the bar, a deep frown on his face and a shotgun in his hand.
Lovely.
“They got into it over a woman,” he scoffs. “Apparently, somebody’s cheating. And once they got into it, there was no stopping them. This”—He motions to the gun—“is only to prevent others from joining in. Although barely.”
Nico nods. “How about you put that away? We’ll take it from here.”
Mick grumbles something under his breath but does as asked, so we shift our attention to the fighting men.
“Any preference?” I ask jokingly as we push through the spectators.
“Just grab whoever you can get your hands on first,” Nico mutters and then says loudly so people can hear him, “Bluebonnet Creek Police Department! Make some room.” When people make no attempt to move, he adds, “If you don’t, you’ll be considered an accomplice and spend the night in the county jail.”
That does it. At least partially. Some of the people move to the side, but the two men fighting are so into it, they don’t pay us any attention.
“You’ll pay, you fucking son of a bitch. Fucking my wife… I’ll cut off that tiny dick of yours?—”
The guy slams him in the chin. “Who’re you calling tiny, Kenny? Your tiny dick is the reason she came to me in the firstplace. When was the last time you made her come? I know—never!”
Kenny lets out a roar in anger and lunges at the guy who’s maniacally laughing, at least until he’s bulldozed by his drunk friend. They crash into one of the tables, the force of the impact making it fall back.
They lose their balance and land on top of it.
I reach for the guy on top, but before I can get a good hold on him, he regains his composure. He swings his arm back, his elbow knocking me in the chin as he charges again.
“Fucking hell.”
I can hear ringing in my ears from the impact. The guy might be drunk, but he’s a big dude, and his punch shows it.
I catch one of his arms mid-swing, twisting it behind his back as I reach for my handcuffs. “Now you’ve gone and done it,” I grit out as I cuff one of his hands before grabbing the other. “Public intoxication. Fighting. Damage to private property. And assaulting an officer. The list just keeps growing bigger and bigger.”
