He shook me again, leaning into me so I had to bend back and shouted, “Get your shit and get in the car!”
I twisted my arm again, it hurt again even more but he still didn’t let go and I shrieked, “Casey, take your hand off me!”
“Dude, do as Ivey says,” Barry, one of the two men (I was right back when I made my guess) who sat hunched with his friend Gene nearly every night at The Rambler was now standing close to Casey and me.
Casey’s neck twisted and he spat, “Stay out of it.”
“Let her go and move back,” Gene ordered, standing to Casey’s other side.
Casey’s neck twisted the other way. “Fuck you!”
“One last shot, dude, you let her go or we make you,” Barry warned and Casey looked back at him.
“Yeah, right, fat ass, like you can do that,” he snarled, lip curled.
“Casey!” I snapped, he looked at me, started to shake me again then Gene put two hands on his shoulders, Barry wrapped one around the wrist of his hand that had hold of me and they both pulled him away from me.
Then it began. Casey tore loose and then went back at them fighting.
“Oh God,” I whispered. “God!” I cried. “Casey! Stop it!” I shouted.
He didn’t stop. He took on Barry and Gene and he underestimated them.
Pure Casey.
They might be big boys but then again they were big boys and there were two of them. Casey had speed and agility but they had bulk and numbers and they got him down on his belly, his arm twisted around his back, Gene’s knee in it for good measure and Barry turned to Janie.
“You call Len?” he asked and she nodded.
“Lenny and Gray,” she confirmed.
I closed my eyes then opened them quickly.
A squirming, infuriated Casey demanded, “Let me up, asshole.”
I got as close as I dared and told my brother, “Casey, Janie’s called the cops and Gray and you do not want to be here when either of them get here. Trust me. If I ask Gene to let you up, will you promise to get out of here quick?”
“Fuck you, you stupid, selfish cunt! Fuck…you!” Casey yelled.
This was a bad idea and it was very, very bad timing.
It was a bad idea because I had gabbed with Barry and Gene on more than one occasion. I saw them nearly every night for a month. I liked them, they liked me and they didn’t like anyone calling me the c-word, even my brother.
And it was bad timing because he said it precisely as Gray stalked into the bar.
So Gene got one second to twist Casey’s arm so brutally he cried out in pain and I feared he’s snap it right off before Gray pushed him aside.
He rolled Casey to his back, jerked him to his feet, pushed him off and invited in a low, rumbling, seriously angry voice, “Let’s do this.”
The last time they went head-to-head, Gray had dumped him right on his behind in the snow but Casey, my stupid, stupid brother, did not hesitate.
And Gray instantly commenced beating the shit out of my brother while I stood straining against the arms of Barry that were holding me back and shouted at them to stop.
They didn’t.
Not until Lenny showed up in uniform, badge on his chest, gun on his hip and he pulled Casey from the hold Gray had on Casey’s collar to keep him steady while he slammed his fist repeatedly in my brother’s face.
Casey went flying, shaking his head, so addled by the blows he didn’t even throw his arms out to catch onto anything.
Lenny planted a hand in Gray’s chest, arm straight, eyes locked to Gray’s and voice growling, “Stand down now, Gray.”
Gray’s chest was rising and falling fast, his jaw was hard, a muscle jerking in his cheek. His eyes were locked on Casey who was swaying and still shaking his head, trying to shake the sense back in.
A fruitless endeavor.
Lenny gave it a minute, holding Gray’s eyes to ascertain he got a lock on it then when he did Lenny stepped back and dropped his arm.
Then he asked the bar at large, “What we got here?”
Peg, the barfly who, like Barry and Gene, was there every night, piped up and apparently, even though she was usually always borderline sloshed, that didn’t mean she couldn’t pay attention.
“That guy came in mouthin’ off at Ivey. She tried to be cool with him. He didn’t listen to a word she said. He got physical, wouldn’t stop, Barry and Gene stepped in, they warned him to stop, he wouldn’t. They got him off her then he called Ivey the c-word and Gray was walkin’ in, heard him and justifiably wailed on him.”
Although this was succinct and all the truth, albeit with a bit of opinion thrown in, Gray had heard Casey call me the c-word but he didn’t know Casey had been physical with me. Hearing Peg, his eyes cut to me, took me in and unfortunately I wasn’t wearing one of my long-sleeved henleys but instead a short sleeved tee and he saw the angry, red welts on my arm left by Casey.