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fix. I’d seen plenty of them down in The Keys. I’d been one for a while.

The pretty blonde bartender finally worked her way to my section. She took one look at the drunk next to me, ignored him, and introduced herself to me.

“Hi there! I’m Christina. What can I get for you?” She asked with a bubbly voice, bending at the waist and leaning on the bar, giving me a view down her t-shirt. A view she had enhanced by cutting away the collar and making a large V that ended somewhere above her navel.

I averted my eyes. Not that I didn’t appreciate the view, but the girl was half my age, and looking made me feel like a creepy old man. Staring her in the eyes, I opened my mouth to order another rum drink.

A blur of movement next to me and the drunk’s hand shot out, seizing Christina’s wrist. She snatched her hand back, trying to break free. But the man’s grip was too strong.

“That ain’t right. You jus’ gonna skip over me like that?” he asked, spittle flying from his rancid mouth.

“Get off me,” Christina shrieked, struggling against him.

“Hey! Fella!” I said, yelling at the man. “You’d better take it on down the road before there is trouble.”

“You stay out of this!” He spat back at me. “All I want is a drink, and this bitch skipped me. She did it on purpose too.”

Throughout the bar, dozens of faces turned to watch us. Behind me, two people backed away, carrying their drinks to safety. An unsettling hush fell over the bar as everyone waited to see what would happen.

“I’ll tell you what. If you let go of her and promise to leave, I’ll buy you a drink. How’s that sound?” I asked, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Sounds to me like you’s an asshole,” the drunk said. He dropped the bartender’s wrist and squared up against me.

“You don’t want to do this,” I warned. He wasn’t a big man. I outweighed him by thirty pounds. If it came to blows, I was confident that I could take him. I just hoped that he would see reason and back down.

“Yeah, I think I do,” he replied, raising his hand and poking me in the chest. “You jus’ gotta go stickin’ yer nose where it don’t belong,” he slurred.

“Last chance, guy. It’s your choice, a free drink or an asswhopping.”

Someone from the crowd yelled, “Kick his ass, seabass!”

He poked me in the chest again. “Fuc...”

I never let him finish. I snapped my arm out, seizing his wrist and yanking the drunkard toward me. Twisting, I locked his now outstretched arm. With my other hand, I grabbed a handful of his greasy hair and slammed his head down onto the top of the bar and held it there.

A muffled “Oof,” escaped him, barely audible over the collective gasp of the crowd. He struggled against me for a moment, kicking and trying to work his arm free, getting angrier and angrier. But it was no use. I had him pinned.

“So, you like grabbing women? Does that make you feel tough?” I asked him.

“Screw you,” he growled.

I twisted his arm harder and then picked his head up and slammed it back down on the bar again. “What was that?”

“Nothin’,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “I won’t do it again man, jus’ lemme go.”

“Are you going to apologize to the nice lady?” I asked reproachfully.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go,” he pleaded.

“What do you think, Christina? Should I let him go or wait for the cops?” I asked, looking up.

Christina stared down at the drunk unblinking, her mouth hanging open. Alternating red and blue lights were already flashing in the mirrored beer signs. Within seconds, two patrol cars converged on the corner of the bar. I recognized one vehicle from earlier, but the other, a newer Dodge Charger, I hadn’t seen yet. Two officers leapt from their vehicles. Both wore bulletproof vests and dark blue uniforms. The crowd did its best to part as they pushed through.

Before they got to the bar, I released my opponent. But first, I leaned down and whispered into his ear. “I don’t want to see you around here anymore. And I sure as hell better not hear about you getting physical with any of these girls again.”

“Or what?” The man spat, unable to swallow his pride.

“Or the cops will be the last of your worries.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Captain CJ Schnier is the author of several books including the beloved Chase Hawkins Adventure Series which includes his upcoming novel Unlawful Chase. He also writes nautical horror and has been known to dabble into other genres as well.

CJ lives and writes from his sailboat moored in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida, and spends his free time sailing the waters of Tampa Bay and the Gulf Coast of Florida. When not on the water, a rarity, he can often be found enjoying a fresh-caught grouper sandwich while enjoying a cold beer at a local tavern.

With nearly twenty-five years experience on the water from from fishing to boat deliveries, search and rescue to transporting barges of oil, he has amassed a lifetime of stories told by a colorful cast of characters. It is these experiences that he draws on the create the nautical stories that he writes. Many of the characters from his adventure books, as well as their backgrounds, are based on friends and acquaintances, proof that sometimes reality can be stranger than fiction.

Follow CJ at www.cjschnier.com

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