I gave Hunter another look.Don’t do it.Ralph wasn’t worth the trouble.
But as I would come to learn, that’s not the kind of man Hunter was.
“You’re bothering this nice bartender,” Hunter said, deadly serious. “That’s my business.”
“Hunter,” I hissed, but it was too late.
Ralph leaned forward on the bar so he could peer around the other patrons to see who was talking to him. “The fuck you say, kid?”
“Touch her again,” Hunter growled, “and I’ll smash that tulip glass into your ugly fucking face.”
I groaned as I watched the situation spiral out of control.
24
Hunter
I could ignore one crass comment. I could even ignore a second one. But when that drunk asshole put his hand on Erica, a switch flipped inside of me and all I saw was red.
The guy seemed like a drunk. The kind who made snide comments to women, then slinked away whenever someone called him on it. I’d met hundreds of guys like him in my life, and being publicly called out usually did the trick.
But this guy? Calling him out had the opposite effect. I knew my mistake immediately. The guy twisted on his barstool, rounding on me. The man who was sitting between us quickly grabbed his beer and decided he would rather sit somewhere else.
Ralph is looking for a fight,I realized.
“I don’t remember asking you a goddamn thing,” Ralph snarled. He wasn’t as drunk as I had thought, which was another bad sign. “So I’ll give you a chance to apologize and get the fuck out of my brewery.”
“This isn’t your brewery,” I said, “and you’re the one who needs to apologize.”
Ralph stood up. He knocked over his beer in the process, but he was too busy mean-mugging me to notice. Ralph was bigger than I expected.A lotbigger. He was wearing suspenders over his pants because he was built like a steel barrel. His arms were thick with muscle from whatever blue-collar job he had.
And I drive in a car and talk to a camera for a living, I thought.
“I think I misheard you,” he said. “Say that again?”
He was giving me a chance to back off. I probably should have taken it, apologizing and offering to buy the guy his next beer. It would have deescalated the situation.
But that would only encourage him. He would keep being an asshole to bartenders and serving staff. Hell, he might even get bolder.
I hated the thought of anyone acting that way to Erica.
“Oh, so you’re deaf as well as stupid,” I told the big oaf.
“Hunter,” Erica hissed. “This is just Ralph. He didn’t say anything too bad…”
I knew she couldn’t stick up for herself here. She would get a reputation for being a bitch who couldn’t take a joke. She would lose out on tips, and maybe even get fewer shifts because of it. It was the shitty situation women got stuck in all the fucking time. Either accept the casual harassment or get ostracized.
But me? I could stand up for her.
“You want to step outside?” I asked Ralph.
His lip curled in a snarl. “Here’s just fine.”
He moved faster than I expected for a guy his size, darting forward and throwing a punch into my gut. All the air vanished from my lungs as I crumpled backward, knocking over my stool as I tried to catch my balance. I desperately tried to suck in a breath, but my diaphragm felt paralyzed from the blow. My chest heaved with false-breaths, and I made a pitiful wheezing sound.
Ralph loomed over me, reveling in his victory already. Across the brewery, the manager was shouting at us while weaving through the tables.
I glanced at Erica behind the bar, beautiful in her concern, and suddenly my energy was renewed. My lungs filled with air and I grabbed the barstool, swinging it by the legs at Ralph and striking him across the arm with the sound of cracked wood. The blow caught him by surprise and he stumbled, giving me enough time to regain my balance and move forward on him.