Colton’s body wavered as he spoke. “Hey man, he insulted me.” He enunciated every word, compensating for the booze flowing through his system. He forced his eyes to remain open wide, so he could watch the men he was about to fight. They could charge him at any moment. It took every bit of concentration to keep his tall frame steady. His heart was thundering, his muscles tensing and relaxing beneath his western shirt.
Colton’s older brother, Kitt, shook his head. His words were stone sober and even, “He said you were wasted. That’s not an insult, brother, that’s a fact.”
Staring through glazed eyes for a second, Colton shrugged, “Well, I feel insulted. Plus he was trashin’ on those ladies in there.” Colton Wade’s Southern accent was thicker than the honey bourbon he’d been downing for the last hour. He was celebrating, because it had been one hell of a show. Sell-out crowd of over twenty-five hundred screaming fans.
He was also celebrating the redhead that had blown him right before he went on stage. That was one for the memoirs. What was her name? Sheila? Fuck it, I’ll call her Sheila in the book. Colton smiled at that thought.
He could see the four men across from him react to his smile. He didn’t care. Colton had already sized up all four men. The big one might be a threat, but the others were in for a world of hurt. They shouldn’t go callin’ out strangers, especially when those strangers look like me and Kitt.
“How was he trashing the women?” Kitt turned to Colton, his curiosity getting the better of them.
Colton was always known for flawless drunk logic. With a shrug, he gave his older brother a wicked smile. He knew the look on Kitt’s face. He was playing with Colton, and Colton indulged.
“Well, first he called her sweetheart. I can live with that. You know how it is. Tryna get the waitress’s attention and all. So she’s busy helping us, and hear him use the C word.” Colton laughed a drunken laugh that came up like a burp. “Kitt, you know me.” Colton leaned forward, moving a leg out to steady himself. “I am a connoisseur of women. A fine purveyor, if you will. Love ‘em all.”
Turning from his older brother, Colton smiled at one of the pretty young things that had crowded around the dirt outside the bar. Fights always attracted crowds; dinner and a show. She wore a bandana that held down blonde hair like a waterfall at sunset. Fuck, that’s good. Remember that one in the morning, it’d make a killer lyric. Colton made a mental note. The blonde caught his eye, and he gave her a wink.
Kitt laughed, “I know you’re drunk, now. Don’t nobody use words like that unless they’re completely soused.”
Taking in the blonde for one last second, Colton turned back to his brother, a mock hurt look on his face, “Kitt, you tryna hurt my feelings? Cause it’s workin’.”
Kitt returned the look of bullshit feelings, “Oh no, little brother. Your feelings are hurt? Let me call the whambulance. Let me hop on Twitter and tell the world that outlaw country singer Colton Wade got his feels all banged up. Boo fuckin’ hoo.”
Colton bent forward with laughter. As he did, he watched the crowd as they tried to take in what was happening in front of them. The four assholes that wanted to fight hadn’t budged an inch. They were already beaten in Colton’s mind. The Wade brothers already had the psychological advantage. Nobody fucks with the Wade Brothers. When Colton forced himself upright, he was smiling at the thought.
One of the antagonists dropped his hands down. They had been up in his best impression of a boxer. Gerald hadn’t been in a fight since the third grade, and even that was more pushing and shoving than anything else. The only thing he had over the Wade Brothers was the fact that he only had one beer inside of him. He was stone sober compared to the cocky singer.
His buddies Earl, Billy, and Jimmy Vee kept their hands up but glanced
Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller