Jay put on a grin and aimed his feet straight for Daisy Duke. “Hey there. You doin’ okay?”
She blinked up at him, looking surprised and a little confused. “Um ...”
The farm-strong guy shoved himself between them, facing Jay. He puffed up his already puffed chest and glared. He was a little shorter than Jay.
If he understood what Jay and Duncan’s kuttes signified, he wasn’t impressed.
“Move on, asshole.”
Jay ignored him and made a show of looking around him to focus on Daisy again. “You okay?”
Exactly as he’d figured, Farmer Man reacted by making the first move. He put up a meaty hand and gave Jay a hard shove. “I said move on, asshole.”
“Thank you,” Jay said and punched the guy in his gut. With his right fist, because he saved the dirty stuff for deeper into a fight.
He also preferred to avoid faces if he could. He’d broken his hand and cut up his knuckles once punching a dude in the face—just one punch!—and hadn’t been able to ride for weeks. Body blows were better.
The guy doubled over with a loudoof, and he dropped his glass, but he didn’t go down.
Then his buddy jumped at Jay, and Duncan grabbed him and yanked him around.
Jay pushed Daisy and her friend back just as Farmer stood tall again. The guy swung big, telegraphing the blow. Jay ducked and charged forward, slamming his shoulder into the guy’s belly. Heoofed again and reeled backward as Jay kept charging forward.
He’d been aiming for the rail, meaning to slam the guy’s back into it, but he missed, and they crashed into a table. All the people sitting there, and in the tables around it, jumped up, yelling, as the table went over.
And the brawl was on.
Somebody tried to hook an arm around Jay’s neck, but he tucked his chin and twisted, bringing his left hand up and slamming it into whatever of his new assailant’s body he could reach—first it was a shoulder, which finished breaking his hold on Jay. Another hook caught the guy’s cheek. Also, ow. Even with the knuckles, that hurt.
Then Farmer Man came up on him again, this time getting a good swing and landing a fist right in the center of Jay’s belly. His breath left him in a rush and his last meal rocked around in there uncomfortably, but it stayed where it belonged. As Farmer reached down to grab him and yank him up, Jay kicked out and up as hard as he could, and his lug-soled riding boot connected low in the guy’s gut—not quite a groin strike but close enough to be money.
Farmer dropped to his knees, his face a twisted mask of agony. He was out of the fight.
But it was a brawl now, and somebody grabbed Jay’s kutte and yanked him around.
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~oOo~
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“Ican’t believe wegot bounced from theDawg,” Jay complained, pressing the bag of frozen pizza rolls to his mouth.
They were sitting outside a mini-mart in a quiet neighborhood a mile or so from the Dawghouse, from which they’d been bounced after the brawl. Notbouncedbounced, but firmly asked to leave. The assholes who’d tried to fight the bouncers had been sent away with force. Jay and Duncan knew better. They left when they were asked to leave.
Still, it took some doing to get bounced from a bar thatexpectedfighting to happen.
Holding another bag of frozen pizza rolls to his eye, Duncan said, “It was that chair. When it hit the booze wall, they were done with us all.”
“Yeah, who did that?” That was not okay. Part of the deal at the Dawg was everybody tried to keep the damage to the fighters. It was a known thing. Whoever had thrown that chair had ruined it for everybody tonight. They’d better not have ruined it for the future, too.
“No idea,” Duncan answered. “I heard it but didn’t see. I was busy.”
“Me too.” Reliving the chaotic scene, Jay grinned broadly, then winced and pulled it back when his lip split open again. “But that wasepic, Dunc. Yeah?”
The whole place had been engaged. At several points, he’d been fighting two or three guys at once. At several other points, he and Duncan had been back to back, like heroes in some martial arts movie. He’d also been hit by a few women, and he was proud to know he’d pulled back before he’d hit even one of those bitches back. He’d pushed one, who’d had hold of his kutte and wouldn’t let go, but only hard enough to get her away, not to knock her down.
His favorite part, of course, was when Farmer Man had managed to gather himself together and come at Jay a second time. He’d pulled a knife—a spring-loaded pocket knife with a serious blade—but Jay hadn’t flinched.