waist, flipped up the volume of the music, and began swaying. His breath smelt like a dirty sewer. Dana pushed back on his drunken advance; he tripped and fell to the ground. One of the other bikers stumbled over and turned it down slightly.
“Excuse my friend; he’s had one too many,” he slurred.
With that said, he cut in and tried to repeat the same behavior. Dana tried forcefully pushing him off, but his grip was much tighter. He groped at her ass and licked her neck.
“Get off!” she yelled even louder, but he wouldn’t let up.
That was when the music turned off.
“Huh?” the guy cast a look over his shoulder to find Jack there.
“I think you should do what she said.”
“Piss off,” the biker said, keeping a firm grip on Dana with one arm. With the other, he turned the radio back on.
Jack leaned in, turning off the radio. “I get it. No, I really do. You’ve had a few beers, smoked a doobie or two, and you’re looking to score some ass. You see her; she’s got a great ass. But here’s the thing.”
He gestured to their house, and they followed his line of sight.
“Do you really want to do this in front of her kid?”
One of the bikers lunged at Jack from behind and took hold of his shoulder. Without missing a beat, Jack elbowed the guy in the face, sending him reeling back. The next one launched his attack, but before he was within reach Jack kicked his knee, causing him to buckle in agony. He followed with a crushing upper cut, and the guy went down hard. Another took a swing, but Jack caught his oil-stained fist with his right hand, twisted his arm, and fired a sharp blow into the guy’s ribcage. Dropping, he managed to return a blow, but Jack barely registered it. The one still holding Dana tossed her to the side as he threw a punch. Jack ducked out of the way, grabbed the radio, and slammed it against his face. It collapsed the man’s nose and sent him down. For a brief moment he had the initial advantage, but then the first biker was back up. He pulled a gun, but before he could raise it Jack moved in one smooth motion, grabbed a knife from his ankle, and flicked it at the biker. It embedded below his shoulder. He stumbled back and the gun went off.
“I’ll call the police.”
Distracted by Dana’s voice, Jack felt two sharp pains in his lower back; dropping to a knee, he grappled and tossed the man over his shoulder. Two more blows to the man’s face and he was out cold. Jack had reacted without thinking. It was almost natural, nothing more than years of instinct and pure survival.
Dana dashed into her office and made the call while Jack continued to fight them. One against five; to any other person looking on, it would have looked like pure madness. But to him it was just another day in the yard with inmates trying to shank him. At least these five were unprepared and drunk; injured and exhausted, they groaned, fumbling around on their hands and knees. One threw a hand up to make it clear that he’d had enough. Not taking any chances, Jack pulled his own gun on them while they waited for the police to show.
* * *
A fter throwing the men into the back of the cruisers and listening to Dana’s side of the story, Sheriff Grant took down Jack’s name and details and told him that he would have to give a statement. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that he would be back and not to go anywhere. Five minutes later, blue and red lights blurred into the night, leaving Jack leaning against a rock wall. Jason had made his way down. Dana and Jason looked at him in complete astonishment.
“Holy shit, you think you can teach me how to do that?”
“Jason,” Dana reprimanded him.
“What? It was insane.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline masking his pain, but only then did he realize what the cause was of the shooting pain in his back. Withdrawing his hand from the small of his back, he saw that it was covered in warm blood. He stumbled forward a little.
Dana gasped. “You need
“Excuse my friend; he’s had one too many,” he slurred.
With that said, he cut in and tried to repeat the same behavior. Dana tried forcefully pushing him off, but his grip was much tighter. He groped at her ass and licked her neck.
“Get off!” she yelled even louder, but he wouldn’t let up.
That was when the music turned off.
“Huh?” the guy cast a look over his shoulder to find Jack there.
“I think you should do what she said.”
“Piss off,” the biker said, keeping a firm grip on Dana with one arm. With the other, he turned the radio back on.
Jack leaned in, turning off the radio. “I get it. No, I really do. You’ve had a few beers, smoked a doobie or two, and you’re looking to score some ass. You see her; she’s got a great ass. But here’s the thing.”
He gestured to their house, and they followed his line of sight.
“Do you really want to do this in front of her kid?”
One of the bikers lunged at Jack from behind and took hold of his shoulder. Without missing a beat, Jack elbowed the guy in the face, sending him reeling back. The next one launched his attack, but before he was within reach Jack kicked his knee, causing him to buckle in agony. He followed with a crushing upper cut, and the guy went down hard. Another took a swing, but Jack caught his oil-stained fist with his right hand, twisted his arm, and fired a sharp blow into the guy’s ribcage. Dropping, he managed to return a blow, but Jack barely registered it. The one still holding Dana tossed her to the side as he threw a punch. Jack ducked out of the way, grabbed the radio, and slammed it against his face. It collapsed the man’s nose and sent him down. For a brief moment he had the initial advantage, but then the first biker was back up. He pulled a gun, but before he could raise it Jack moved in one smooth motion, grabbed a knife from his ankle, and flicked it at the biker. It embedded below his shoulder. He stumbled back and the gun went off.
“I’ll call the police.”
Distracted by Dana’s voice, Jack felt two sharp pains in his lower back; dropping to a knee, he grappled and tossed the man over his shoulder. Two more blows to the man’s face and he was out cold. Jack had reacted without thinking. It was almost natural, nothing more than years of instinct and pure survival.
Dana dashed into her office and made the call while Jack continued to fight them. One against five; to any other person looking on, it would have looked like pure madness. But to him it was just another day in the yard with inmates trying to shank him. At least these five were unprepared and drunk; injured and exhausted, they groaned, fumbling around on their hands and knees. One threw a hand up to make it clear that he’d had enough. Not taking any chances, Jack pulled his own gun on them while they waited for the police to show.
* * *
A fter throwing the men into the back of the cruisers and listening to Dana’s side of the story, Sheriff Grant took down Jack’s name and details and told him that he would have to give a statement. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that he would be back and not to go anywhere. Five minutes later, blue and red lights blurred into the night, leaving Jack leaning against a rock wall. Jason had made his way down. Dana and Jason looked at him in complete astonishment.
“Holy shit, you think you can teach me how to do that?”
“Jason,” Dana reprimanded him.
“What? It was insane.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline masking his pain, but only then did he realize what the cause was of the shooting pain in his back. Withdrawing his hand from the small of his back, he saw that it was covered in warm blood. He stumbled forward a little.
Dana gasped. “You need
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