Dirk rolled to a stop and killed the engine. His warm bike back-fired drawing a startled look from the patrons sitting outside of Cody’s waiting to be seated. Dirk sat perched on his bike with his right foot under his left leg for a second and looked past the patrons to the inside of the bar. Busy place, he thought. Dirk was on a mission to get ugly drunk and clear his mind of Cathy Roberts and his failed attempt to murder her husband. Cody’s was the second stop on his planned night of bar hopping. He was drunk, edgy, and feeling no pain.
After perusing the bar for a few moments, he slid off his bike, pushed his long arms toward the sky in an impromptu stretch and headed for the front door. He shouldered his way through the heavy door and stepped inside. A local DJ was playing rock music; his amplifiers were cranked up about as high as the crowd could bear. He surveyed the long bar to his right for an open spot. The chubby bartender looked up from shoveling ice and pointed to an opening on the other side of the busy waitress station. Dirk gave him a thumbs-up and moved past the many patrons lined up along the bar toward the opening next to the station.
“Hi there,” a smiling waitress gave him a friendly greeting.
Without speaking, Dirk reached down to pinch her backside. Surprised, the young waitress arched her back and bolted away from his thick fingers, nearly losing control of a tray drinks she was balancing above her shoulder.
Annoyed, the bartender jabbed his finger at the spot next to the gold railing. Still smirking at the startled waitress, Dirk stepped over and squeezed into the spot, rudely bumping into the back of the gentleman seated next to him. The annoyed gentleman turned around and gave him a longer than expected glare and then went back to his conversation with the man next to him.
The drunken Dirk motioned for the bartender to come over. The busy bartender ambled over. “What’ll ya have?”
“Bud Light.”
“Do me a favor, will ya, buddy.”
Dirk’s brow lifted.
“Keep your hands off the waitresses, all right?”
Dirk grinned. “Lighten up man, she loved it.”
The bartender gave him a hard stare, handed him his Bud and then hurried down the bar to replenish some empty glasses.
Dirk chugged about half of his beer and then he turned around to check out the chicks inside Cody’s, once again bumping into the guy next to him. Not wanting to let the second offense pass unnoticed, the other guy quickly turned to confront Dirk. “It’s kind of tight in here fella, let’s be a little careful! Okay?”
Dirk’s eyes darkened. He glared angrily at the nattily dressed man with broad shoulders. In a foul mood and not used to being told what to do, he got angry. “You’re taking up too much room, asshole!”
“That’s bullshit, buddy, you got plenty of room!”
Dirk’s face flushed red, but he hesitated. He had seen this guy somewhere before. He looked at him for an uncomfortable minute and then he remembered. He was the guy who was sitting with Cathy Roberts’s a few nights ago at Cody’s. A nasty grin broke out on Dirk’s face, “Hell, I know you fella. We’ve got a mutual friend.”
“You’re full of it! I’ve never seen you before in my life!”
Dirk moved his eyes defiantly up and down the man’s face as if sizing him up. He wanted to punch him in the worst way, but he still had something to say. “I saw you in here a few nights ago with a friend of mine.” The guy sitting next to the other guy was shouting at the bartender to come over and calm things down. The large bartender rushed toward the looming confrontation. Nearby patrons began to back away from the two men.
“And who in the hell might that be?” The muscular drunk surveyed Dirk’s face; there was a glint of recognition in his eyes.
“Cathy Roberts, remember her?”
“Hell, yes, now I remember. You’re the creep who was hitting on her that night.”
“Yeah, I’m a creep and you’re some rich broad’s boy-toy.”
The “boy-toy” comment enraged Eric, his fist exploded toward Dirk catching him completely off guard.
Before he could react, Eric’s fist crash into the side of Dirk’s face. Pain shot clear through his body. He felt like his left eye was about to explode out of his head. He reeled backward, smashing against the gold railing. That was a bad ass punch! he thought. His body bounced off of the railing next to his empty seat. Dirk was staggered, dazed and disoriented. When he tried to raise his arms to protect his face from the next punch, he was too late. Another blow slammed into the side of his forehead. The punch sent Dirk plummeting toward the hardwood floor. He banged hard against the unforgiving surface. He groaned loudly and rolled to his back. He was in a semi-conscious daze; the lights above him on the ceiling swirled in a surrealistic dance as he fell in and out of consciousness.
The nearby patrons were now in a panic mode. They tossed their stools aside and shoved others out of the way in a frantic attempt to put some distance between themselves and the two combatants. Everything was fuzzy to Dirk. He could barely pick out the bartender leaning over the bar and shouting at his adversary to stop, but the enraged Eric was not ready to quit. He dropped down; his knees banged the floor on either side of Dirk’s head. Straddling Dirk, Eric raised his bloodied fist. In a desperate effort to deflect the coming punch, Dirk pushed his forearms over his face. Fortunately, the powerful blow ricocheted off his arms and bounced harmlessly off the ground. Weakened and bloodied, Dirk attempted to rise up just as another punch from Eric’s left hand crushed into his left temple sending him banging against the bottom of the bar.
The scene in the crowded eatery was now total chaos. The band had stopped playing and the people were screaming and shouting for Eric to stop. Dirk could feel blood pouring from his ear. Through the haze he could see two men attempting to restrain his powerful foe. Dirk was desperate. He feared that he was about to die at the hands of this wild man. He struggled to push his body closer to the bar for protection while Eric fought mightily to free himself from the men who were restraining him. Eric was like a wild animal. Dirk had never seen anyone as mean and violent as this guy.
Disoriented and in a state of sheer panic, Dirk slid his hand inside his tight jeans pocket and yanked out a long switch-blade knife. He snapped it open, and using all of the strength he could muster, he lifted his battered body up to a sitting position. He wrapped both hands tightly around the knife handle, raised his arms high above his head and with one powerful motion, he drove the knife forward and buried the seven inch blade deep in Eric’s heart. Almost immediately, Dirk felt warm blood pouring over his face and his white tee shirt. There were screams of disbelief and horror throughout the room. Then the room fell silent. Eric’s terrified eyes were wide open as Dirk let go of the knife. Eric’s head fell to his chest, his limp body dropped on top of the bloodied, moaning Dirk. There was another brief chorus of screams and then, once again, the room fell silent. Dozens of terrified patrons stared in disbelief at the two men, lying one on top of the other while a river of blood spread around them like a broken bottle of red wine.