Cash's Fight(2)

His slight hope of passing by unnoticed died quickly when the woman turned her head and saw him, a loud squeal passing her lips. “Cash!”

She jumped off the tailgate, throwing herself into his arms, which he kept to his sides. She wound her arms around his neck, her breath strong with the odor of alcohol and whatever she had eaten for dinner, repulsing him. He jerked his head back as far as he could, trying to unsuccessfully move away from her tight grasp.

“Why didn’t you call? If I’d have known you were going to be here, I would have met you.”

“I was meeting a friend, Diane.”

Greer’s face was reddening with fury. All of the Porter brothers were hotheads, but Greer’s temper was the worst.

Cash tried again to break Diane’s hold.

“Let’s go inside and get a drink.”

“I was leaving,” Cash refused her invitation.

She pouted, attempting to pull his head down to hers.

“What the fuck, Diane? You came here with me.” When Greer stood up, pulling her away from him, Cash was actually grateful to the asshole for the first time in his life.

“Come on, Greer; loosen up. We could all three have a good time,” Diane said suggestively, looking back and forth between the two men.

“That’s not going to happen,” Greer snapped.

No, it isn’t, Cash thought while attempting to leave. He was two steps away from his bike, ready to head home to the club. He was going to be a better man and remember the Porter brothers were the ones who had saved Lily’s life; the club owed them a favor. However, Greer had to open his mouth.

“Don’t be mad, Greer. I was only joking,” Diane quickly tried to pacify the man’s anger. Cash could have told her it would be a wasted effort.

“If you want to be one of his sluts, why don’t you go join the rest of those whores waiting for him? Better yet, why not wait till Friday? I hear they’ll all fuck you,” Greer snarled, jerking his arm away from Diane’s conciliatory touch.

Cash turned on the heels of his boots. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Which part did you miss? The part where I called anyone who fucked you a slut or those women back at your club whores?”

Cash angrily paced back to face him. “Your mouth is shooting out shit that’s going to get you hurt if you don’t shut up, Greer. The only reason I’m not already beating the shit out of you is because you’re drunk as hell, and we owe you for saving Lily.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Because you pussies can’t do anything but fuck,” Greer retorted harshly.

“Jealous, Greer? All you and your brothers get are our leftovers.” Cash was fed-up with the Porter brothers thinking they could mouth off without repercussions.

“I’m not jealous of you, Cash.” Greer laughed mockingly. “There’s not a whore of yours I would want.”

“No?”

“Fuck no!”

“Cool, then let’s go, Diane.” Cash took Diane’s arm, leading her toward his bike. He was expecting what would happen next.

When Greer pushed him away from Diane with a hard shove against his shoulder, Cash pivoted on his heel, his fist smashing against Greer’s cheekbone. Satisfied that Greer would have a black eye staring back at him in the mirror for the next week, he dodged the fist coming back his way.

Cash dropped Diane’s arm, stepping away from her so she wouldn’t get hurt, before slamming into Greer and taking him down to the ground. He was so intent on beating some manners into Greer he didn’t hear anyone coming out of the bar. The foot that kicked into his ribs, driving the air out of his lungs, had him falling to the side.

Greer took instant advantage and began striking at his body before Cash could stop him. Cash felt the iron taste of blood in his mouth as his lip split. Trying to throw Greer’s weight off, he then felt a searing pain in his side; the motherfucker had broken his rib. Forcing himself to ignore the excruciating pain, he hit Greer back as best he could. He brought his hand to his pocket right before it was smashed down under a booted heel.

“This is a fair fight, Cash. Those brass knuckles of yours are going to stay in your pocket.”

“You think you butting into our fight is fair?” Cash gasped, bringing his legs up to throw Greer off.

“I call it leveling the playing field,” Tate said without remorse.

“Stop it, Tate.” Reva’s and Diane’s screams were drawing the rest of the customers out of Rosie’s bar.

Cash managed to strike Greer several times before Mick, the owner of the bar, pulled the two men apart.

“Stop! You three need to go on home.” Mick stood between the men, his hand on Greer’s chest, keeping him in place.