Page 12 of Caged Hunger

“I told you, I don’t want no faggot serving me my beer,” the asshole sitting in the booth snarled, smirking as his two buddies continued to egg him on. “Now go get that pretty little lady with the big tits to come and bring me another beer.”

“Oh, look, another homophobic jackass, showing his insecurities,” Cameron snipped, reaching for the beer, before the bully in front of him grabbed him by the wrist.

Basher instantly saw red. His ears became clogged, and rage filled his veins.

“Is there a problem here?” Basher asked, stepping up next to Cameron and glaring down at the asshole in front of him.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize this was a homo bar when me and my buddies came in for a beer.”

Stepping in front of Cameron, Basher grabbed the man by the shirt and yanked him to his feet.

The whole table shifted, spilling beers and knocking over two of the pints.

“Hey? What the fuck?” one of the men from across the table yelled as he stood up quickly to avoid any beer spilling on his jeans.

Basher held the homophobic asshole up to his face as he snarled.

“You owe this man an apology.”

“What? Fuck that shit—” The man’s sentence was interrupted by the sound of his face smashing into the table.

“Let’s try that again,” Basher growled, hauling the man up once more. Blood spilled from his mangled nose, running thick and dark down his shirt.

The man looked terrified. His buddies sitting across from him all backed away, not wanting to get involved in whatever was happening.

“I-I’m sorry,” the man stuttered, clinging to Basher’s fists, which were still firmly wrapped around his shirt.

“For what?” Basher asked, grabbing the man by the back of the neck and giving him a firm squeeze.

“Uh… for calling you a faggot.”

“Basher, everything okay here?” Marcus’s voice suddenly boomed from behind him.

Basher was pissed and didn’t give a fuck if the man behind him fired him. The one thing he didn’t stand for was bullies treating people like shit. It didn’t matter their gender or sexuality; no person deserved to be talked down to or intimidated.

Too many people just stood by and watched as the bullies flexed their power and attempted to take what they wanted.

“Just teaching this homophobic asshole some manners,” Basher answered, slamming the douchebag’s face into the table once more.

The men around them jumped, startled by the force with which their buddy's face hit the table.

They would remember this night. The way their friend’s head smashed into the solid table, and the way blood burst from his broken nose.

Basher could feel his dick get hard.

Was it the violence? The excitement? Or the knowledge that he was getting justice for the sexy, cheerful bartender who never stopped smiling. Guys like Cameron deserved all the happiness.

“Is that so?” Marcus asked, glaring at the rest of the men cowering around the table. “We don’t serve assholes like you here. Basher, how ’bout you show them to the door? They’re never to step foot in this bar again.”

With that, Basher tightened his grip on the quivering man’s neck and roughly escorted him toward the door.

All around them, the rest of the bar looked on with horror, curiosity, and morbid fascination. Even the woman riding her man stopped to watch as Basher escorted the beaten man out of the bar.

“Next time, don’t hog all the fun,” Nikolai grumbled, holding open the bar door as Basher threw the scumbag out onto the street.

Following close behind, the man’s friends stumbled out, helping their buddy to his feet as they cursed and swore at everyone around them.

Basher gave a smirk, watching as the men turned and ran off the second Nikolai and Caden took a step toward them.