Turbulent Intentions(2)

“Get the hell off of me. I know what I’m doing,” Dave snarled at the woman, pushing her away.

Cooper’s fingers twitched in anticipation. He wanted to deck this asshole even more now. It was okay to fight with a man, but to push a lady around was never acceptable.

“Maybe you should lay off the lady,” Maverick said. He wanted to push forward and take Cooper’s place. Cooper looked at him and Maverick stepped back, though it was costing him to do so.

“Maybe you should keep your damn mouth shut,” Dave said to Mav.

“This is Cooper’s fight,” Nick reminded Maverick when he began to shake with the need to hit this piece of scum.

Dave turned away from Maverick, his beady eyes focused again on Cooper. “Are you just like your daddy, boy? Do you like living off the men busting their asses for your family in those crap factories?”

“At least our daddy provides trash like you a job,” Cooper said.

“Not that you would know. You haven’t worked a damn day in your life,” Dave snapped.

“Nope. And I have a hell of a lot more than you, don’t I?” Cooper taunted him, making sure the man could see the gold Rolex he was sporting.

The man spit as he tried to get words out. He was furious. When Cooper pulled out his wallet and slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and told the waitress to take care of the man’s tab since he probably couldn’t, Dave’s face turned beet-red with fury and embarrassment.

“I don’t need the likes of you taking care of anything for me,” he finally managed to sputter.

Finishing his beer in a long swallow, Cooper took his time before putting the glass down on the counter. The bar was strangely quiet as the patrons watched this scene unfold before them.

“So you’re one of those guys who blames his lot in life on the big man in the top office instead of doing a day’s hard work, huh?” Cooper said, a taunting smile on his lips.

“I like my damn life. I don’t need some rich kid who doesn’t know what work is telling me he’s better than me,” the man blustered.

“I am better than you,” Coop told him with a wink he was sure would enrage the man. Just to add fuel to the fire, he pulled out a wad of cash and threw it at the man’s feet. “Here’s some spending money for you. Obviously you need the cash more than I do since I have a mountain of it back home.”

“I’m going to enjoy kicking your ass, boy,” Dave said, tossing his beer bottle behind him in his rage. Though he did look down at the cash longingly. Cooper would have laughed, if he had been capable of it at that moment.

His brothers didn’t even flinch at the hundreds lying on the filthy floor, money that would be swallowed up the second the boys stepped away.

“I’d like to see you try,” Cooper said with just enough of a mocking glow to his eyes to really infuriate the man. “Follow me.”

His muscles were coiled and he was more than ready. He headed toward the door. He could do it in the bar or flatten this guy outside. Either way was good with him.

“You gonna leave the convoy behind, or do you need your brothers to save your ass?” the man taunted.

The fact that this piece of garbage was questioning his honor infuriated Cooper even more. He took a second before answering, not even turning around to face the drunkard.

“You obviously don’t know me at all if you think I need any help kicking your flabby ass,” Cooper told him. “Chicken ass,” he then mumbled, knowing it would push this piece of trash over the limit.

The air stirred against his ears, alerting Cooper of the attack coming toward him. They’d barely made it out the front doors before the man swung, thinking that because Cooper was ahead of him he would get a cheap shot from behind.

He wasn’t counting on Cooper’s rage, or his soberness.

Spinning around, Coop threw all his weight behind a punishing blow that made brutal contact with the drunk’s face. The resounding crack of Coop’s knuckles breaking the man’s nose echoed across the parking lot.

The man spit blood as he tried to get up before falling back to the ground. Cooper didn’t give him a chance. In half a heartbeat, he was on the ground, slugging the man again and again.

“Should we stop this?” Maverick asked, leaning against the outside wall of the bar as patrons poured out to watch the fistfight.

“Not a chance. Hell, I’m hoping someone else mouths off so I can get a punch or two thrown in,” Nick mumbled, looking around.

“It’s my turn next,” Ace grumbled.

Maverick held his brother back. “You’ll get your turn,” Maverick promised him.