Page 48 of Delusional

Cauliflower Ear said to Rob, “You look like the kind of guy who would run home to your momma if you had a nosebleed.”

Trilling said, “I would go to my mom. She’s been handling my injuries since I was a little kid. What are you, some kind of moron? Do you think you can give me a bloody nose?”

I mumbled to Trilling, “Nice burn. I’m not sure it scared him at all, but you made a lot of points with just a few words.” It was still satisfying when I could make my partner smile occasionally. I wasn’t sure if this little smirk was more about my joke or the fact that he was looking forward to dealing with these assholes.

Cauliflower Ear picked up a pool cue from one of the tables. It was clear he didn’t intend to play a game. “Go on back home,” he threatened me.

I said, “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll be headed back home in a couple of days.”

“Why wait?” He smacked the pool cue into his hand.

Trilling sealed our fate. “I’m waiting till you get your GED. How long do ya think that’ll be?”

That got the guy with the crooked nose marching directly over. He had no obvious weapons, but his right fist was clenched. Just as he stopped a couple of feet away from my partner and was about to say something, a different Trilling surprised me.

Gary Trilling took a wild right-hand swing and caught the redneck square on his crooked nose.

The man stumbled away a few steps, then turned and glared at Gary.

I said, “Hey, I think you fixed his nose.”

The redneck didn’t like that. I could tell Gary regretted his actions. He was a businessman. This guy was a barroom brawler who Arnold Marks had paid to stir up some shit.

Now they had.

CHAPTER 59

WHILE EVERYONE ELSE’S eyes were fixated on the man Gary Trilling had punched in the face, the other redneck, Cauliflower Ear, rushed forward with a pool cue in his hand. He took a wild horizontal swing that Rob Trilling easily ducked.

I, on the other hand, was paying more attention to the people at the end of the bar. I didn’t duck or move. It was pure luck that the end of the pool cue missed my head. I could feel the breeze blow past my ear. Something about that made me angry. The idea that I could be hit in the head with a weapon when I wasn’t a threat at all pissed me off.

Rob Trilling didn’t waste the opportunity. He flung a high kick into the face of Crooked Nose, who stumbled back and then dropped onto the floor. Cauliflower Ear swung again, and Trilling stepped out of the way. It was like he knew what was coming before his opponent did anything.

The couple at the end of the bar had barely moved. Considering there was a fight going on a few feet away, I found their lack of engagement suspicious.

Rob Trilling was now backing away, intentionally pulling the guy with the pool cue out of our range. It was masterful. The guy followed him like a puppy until the two of them were in the short hallway that led to the restrooms. Now Cauliflower Ear didn’t have room to swing his pool cue. I noticed Trilling’s little smile as the man realized he had fallen into a trap.

Trilling raised his left hand high. As soon as Cauliflower Ear’s eyes looked toward his hand, Trilling delivered a devastating kick to the man’s solar plexus. The redneck flew back like he’d been caught in an explosion.

That’s when the couple from the end of the bar moved quickly toward us. I was ready. I shoved Gary away from me, and he managed to drag Cindy with him. The man had something in his hand that he swung at my head. I leaned back hard against the bar and saw that he was holding a leather-bound blackjack—heavy lead wrapped in a handle and covered with leather. Were those legal out here?

I wasn’t about to let this guy take another swipe at me. I moved my right hand, still holding my beer mug, and smashed it right across his face. That took him out, but then the woman caught me with a left fist on the side of the head. I stumbled awkwardly and fell between two stools. When she stepped around to finish me, I was able to kick a barstool in front of her to slow her down.

I was startled by a pool cue smashing down on the bar between the woman and me. Had the rednecks broken free? Were they coming to help these two? I was relieved to look up and see Rob Trilling holding the pool cue. Both of the rednecks were lying on the floor, moaning and bleeding.

The woman froze in place. Her eyes cut over to Trilling.

Trilling said in a very even voice, “Ma’am, I recommend you take your partner and run, don’t walk, out of this bar.”

I watched her think about it for a moment. Then, without saying a word, she took a few steps back and helped her partner from the floor. She glanced over at the rednecks, who were trying to pull themselves up using a pool table. She didn’t wait for them to regain their footing. She grabbed her injured partner and helped him out the front door.

I turned to our group and said, “Looks like it’s about time for us to hit the road. Let’s head back to the car lot. We can drop Cindy on the way.”

Cindy spoke up. “You don’t have to drop me off,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’ll come with you guys.”

I looked over at the bartender, who had suddenly reappeared. I slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the bar. “That should cover the beer mug I broke. All the other damages are on those two.” I pointed at the rednecks by the pool tables. “The fact that you didn’t bother to call the local authorities or even try to stop this in any way makes me think you might have been involved. Maybe we’ll do something about that later.”

The bartender didn’t answer. That told me everything I needed to know.