Inside SEAL Team Six(13)

Then I got up and walked away.

The school was in an uproar. A tork had beaten up the big, tough captain of the football team—the leader of the jocks.

What was going to happen next?

I knew I was in trouble. About an hour later, I was walking down a hallway alone on my way to the bathroom when I saw Bobby Savage and his basketball friend come out of the nurse’s office. Bobby’s nose was covered with bandages and he had two black eyes.

He saw me and charged. Before I could react, the two big jocks grabbed me and pinned me against the wall.

“You asked for this, asshole.”

“Take your best shot.”

As Savage brought his arm back to slug me, I lifted my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. His torso bent in half, and he lowered his head.

I brought up my knee again, this time into his face. Crunch!

A couple months later, I was sitting in a bar with three of my tough Flat Rats friends, flirting with four girls we’d just met. I was particularly interested in this cute brunette who had a mischievous smile and dimples in her cheeks.

The eight of us were sitting at a table laughing and drinking when we heard a loud commotion at the front door. Looking up, we saw this big, greasy guy in a black motorcycle jacket push his way through the crowd. He looked like an ex–football player who’d put on some weight.

He appeared to be out of his mind on drugs.

The girl sitting to my right looked alarmed. She picked up her purse from the chair and slung it over on her shoulder, as if she were getting ready to run.

I asked, “Who is he?”

One of my buddies answered, “That guy’s a real scumbag. He used to deal drugs in front of the elementary school and just got released from jail.”

Another friend added, “I heard he beat this one girl up so bad that her parents had to bring pictures of her to the hospital so the doctors could reconstruct her face.”

The guy was clearly looking for someone, scanning the crowd. His bloodshot eyes came to rest on the girl beside me.

“You know that guy?” I asked her.

Before she had a chance to answer, the big, greasy scumbag stomped up to her and grabbed her arm.

He shouted, “You’re coming with me, bitch!”

The brunette beside me started to tremble. The other girls at the table froze.

I felt like I had to protect her, so I said to the drug-crazed guy, “Back off. She’s with me.”

He brought his finger to within an inch of my face and snarled, “You, shut the fuck up!”

All the people in the bar stopped what they were doing to watch.

Then the big drug dealer yanked the purse off the girl’s shoulder, which caused her chair to fall backward; her head slammed against the floor.

“Hey, man. What the hell!”

A bolt of fear passed through the packed crowd.

Then, while the girl was still moaning on the floor, the big scumbag grabbed her purse and stomped out of the bar. No one tried to stop him.

I got up and followed him outside, hoping my buddies would come with me. They decided to help the injured girl instead.

Now I was in the parking lot running after the big thug, wondering, Why did he take her purse? Where the hell is he going?

I saw his wide body ahead, pushing through the pools of light, and yelled at his back, “Hey, man, give back her purse.”

He spun around and looked at me with cold fury. The guy was twice my size and clearly out of his mind on drugs. I knew that if he hit me, I’d be in serious trouble.

So I tried my best to defuse the situation. I said, “Look, man, I don’t want to fight you. I just want the girl’s purse. You walk one way, I’ll go another. We’ll forget this whole thing.”

He growled back, “I’m going to rip your head off and shit down your throat.”

Nice image.

I was standing about five feet away when he reached into the girl’s purse, removed a set of keys, and threw the purse to the ground. Spewing a stream of curses at the girl and me, he stomped over to a light blue Corvette parked nearby and removed the hard T-top roof.

I expected him to jump into the Corvette and drive off.

Instead he raised the hard T top over his head and started coming at me. He looked like he wanted to kill me with it. He probably did.

I shouted, “Hey, put the roof down. I’m not here to fight you!”

He kept getting closer, the T top raised as a weapon. I backed away.

“The cops are coming. They’ll be here any minute!”

When he got within five or six feet, I picked up a rock the size of a large toaster to defend myself with. Then I started to back away from him, down a path that led into the woods. He followed me with the T top held over his head and murder in his eyes.

We were descending into the dark woods, away from the well-lit parking lot.