Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The clincher was her throwing up the copious amounts of alcohol she had just consumed all over the bouncer’s shoes, the sound comparable to that of Niagara Falls.
I winced and took a step away, not wanting to get hit by any shrapnel.
“This Saturday. I’ll text you a meetup location fifteen minutes before.”
My fingers flew across the screen. “I need to meet tonight.”
“Saturday.”
All right, I’d take it. This was the closest I was getting to anyone who sold Dragon at Club Trinity. I had to make sure I didn’t scare Mr. Dank69 away. Through him, I’d be able to figure out who was the supplier and chase this Dragon bullshit all the way up to the top.
“Fine,” I texted back, and that was it. I had to wait a couple of more days, but at least I had a lead.
With the way tonight had gone, I was ready to strip down, climb into bed, and knock the fuck out. I had come to the club a couple of hours before opening and had stayed well past midnight. The stall fiasco had also taken it out of me, in more ways than one.
I pulled up my ride-sharing app and was about to order a car when the sudden sounds of a commotion drew my attention. It was coming from around the corner. Sounded like two men shouting, one on the verge of tears.
I hurried around the corner and instantly saw the source of the struggle.
In the darkened side street, right next to the booming nightclub, was a steroid-infested beach head looming over two young gay guys, shouting and spitting, his fists balled up and ready to fly.
Before he could punch one of the guys, I grabbed the walking advertisement for roid-rage by the shoulder and spun him around.
“What the fuck is going on?” His anger was redirected at me. It felt like I opened a furnace and was blasted with heat.
“Yeah, good question, what is going on?” I was looking around the douchebag, asking the two frightened guys. They looked like they were barely out of high school, their backs against the brick wall, eyes wide with fear.
“He… we were just kissing. That was it.”
“Do that shit in private, fuckheads.”
That was dangerously close to another F-word that would have had my fist cracking into this guy’s jaw. “You’re standing outside of a gay club, what the fuck did you expect? For us to be playing Jenga and doing taxes? Fuck off with that homophobic bullshit.” I positioned myself so I stood in front of the two boys. With the way this imbecile’s face was morphing red, I figured it would be smart to stand between them.
“And who are you? The fairy police?”
Another word teetering closer to knockout territory. This guy was already vile, and he was pushing me. I wasn’t normally an angry guy, and confrontation wasn’t my first instinct, even with my time spent in the military.
But when a motherfucker tried me, I made sure to try back.
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“Nah, I think I’m going to stand right here. And then I’m going to follow those two queers over there when they decide to leave. Maybe they need a lesson on public decency.” He looked over my shoulder, eyes beady and cheeks red. His blond hair was thinning around the front, making him seem like he had taped straw on his forehead before leaving his house. “How’s that sound? Huh, fa—”
My fist cut up through the air, catching the man on his lower jaw. There was a loud crack. His head snapped back and he stumbled. Heat from the impact still coated my knuckles, covering the pain that would come later. His eyes were wide, and he tried to talk but couldn’t get any words out around his coughs and wheezes for air.
He didn’t need words to fight back, though. He lunged. An untapped anger flowed through me. No way was this fucking dickhead going to gay bash these poor kids, right outside of a space that was supposed to be safe for our community. I wouldn’t allow it. He was going to learn that sticks and stones may not always break bones, but being a close-minded shithead certainly would.
He reared his massive arm back for a punch, but I read the move before he was even thinking it. I ducked, the punch swinging over my head and missing completely. His size was intimidating, but it was also an advantage I could press. I pushed forward. My shoulder rammed into the man’s belly, knocking all of the air out of him and sending us falling to the ground.
There was a short struggle. I heard people shouting, no doubt calling for the bouncer to come and intervene. I had to focus on the man, who was still much bigger than I was. His fighting skills were shit, but he could do some major damage if he managed to get the upper hand.