Moving Forward - 5. Chapter 5

They returned to the table to find everyone standing about, literally chomping at the bit. As soon as they saw Marshall and Lee, they started to surge toward them, everyone talking at once. Lee held up his hands, and they fell back as he cut a path through them, heading toward Denver’s cousin.

“Where is he?”

“He’s with a group of guys in the game room,” Dustin said. “I didn’t say anything, and he never noticed me. Too busy playing pool.”

“All right, then. Much obliged.”

“No problem. I don’t like bullies,” Dustin said simply. His eyes met Marshall’s, and Marshall was torn between annoyance at what he’d said and gratitude for his support. He gave Dustin a curt nod before he turned away and followed Lee. He knew without looking they were being followed by the others. He knew better than to think they were about to sit this one out. They were his and Lee’s friends, and they were damn loyal.

Inside the game room, the sound level was high, between noisy conversations and high tech electronics. Mostly occupied by men, they were engaged in shooting pool or playing darts or testing their skill at pinball. Three pool tables sat in the middle of the room, and each held a row of quarters, people waiting to play. Marshall immediately recognized the man who’d assaulted him. He stood beside the farthest table, cue in hand, and he didn’t look happy. Maybe he’d missed his shot.

The man glanced in their direction, and his scowl seemed to turn uneasy. The next moment, his expression went blank as he watched them approach, his eyes flickering between Marshall and Lee. He tightened his hold on his pool cue. A man standing beside him gave him an irritated shove. “Move your ass, Al. You missed, it’s my shot.” When his companion didn’t respond, he swiveled toward them and fell silent.

“Whaddya want?” the man addressed as Al said belligerently.

“I want to talk to you.” Lee’s voice was steely but controlled, but Marshall knew what lay beneath his apparent calm.

“What about?”

“About why you thought you could hurt my partner and get away with it.”

“Al, what’s he talking about?” The question came from the man who’d been trying to get in his shot. He looked from Al to Lee.

“Nothing. He must have me confused with someone else.” Al started to turn away, but Lee grabbed his arm.

“No you don’t, you’re going to stand there and face the music.”

“He doesn’t have you confused with anyone,” Marshall spoke up. “It was you. Just now. In the men’s room. You got mad because I didn’t want to dance with you again. You did this to me.” He pointed to his bruised face.

“I saw the whole thing.” Dustin appeared at Marshall’s side, fists clenched.

“That’s ridiculous,” Al bluffed. “You’re nothing but a little boy with an overinflated ego. Why should I waste my time on you or your boyfriend?” He tried to pull out of Lee’s grasp.

Lee released his arm and grabbed him by his shirt instead, twisting the fabric. “Nobody hurts Marshall and gets away with it. Why don’t you take a shot at me if you’re so damned brave? Pick on someone a little closer to your own size? Afraid you might get hurt? “

Several other men began to form a group around Al. “What’s going on here, Rudy?” one of them asked the man standing beside Al.

“This guy’s looking for a fight.” He gestured toward Lee. “Says Al hurt his boyfriend or something.”

A disgruntled murmur ran through the newcomers like a wave. Lee ignored them.

“You afraid to face me in a fair fight?” Lee taunted Al. “Afraid I might hurt you? You know, I just might at that. But I’ll tell you what. You admit to what you did, and apologize to Marshall, and just maybe I’ll let you walk away from this untouched.”

Al laughed, but it was nervous laughter. “Me afraid of you? I don’t think so. Why should I apologize to that piece of shit anyway? He’s nothing but a cocktease—”

Lee’s fist smashed into Al’s face. Al yowled in pain and covered his nose with his hand. Blood streamed through his fingers.

“Goddammit! You broke my fucking nose!” Al’s voice came out in a nasal whine.

“I’ll break more than that, you son of a bitch. Are we going to take this outside and settle it like men, or do you intend to start crying for your mama?”

Marshall noticed Al tensed, and his first thought was he intended to hit Lee. The hell he will. Marshall took a step toward him, with the intention of swinging at him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dustin was also in motion. Al started to turn away from them. Maybe he was retreating after all, the coward.

Without warning, Al whirled back around. He raised the pool cue he still held over his head and brought it down forcefully on top of Lee’s head. Lee twisted away at the last moment, deflecting the blow onto his shoulder instead. He staggered back, almost losing his balance. He was propped up by Roy, who helped him keep his feet.

“Why, you no good sonofa—” The rest of his words were lost in the furious outcry from Slim and Rye and the others who surged forward en masse. Equally angry shouts came from the other side. Marshall was sure a full-blown melee was about to break out, but he was more concerned about Lee. He started to reach for him just as he felt a tug at his arm.

To his annoyance, he found Dustin was trying to drag him away. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

“The hell with that.” Marshall yanked his arm out of the other’s grasp. “I’m not leaving Lee. You get out of here if you want.”

Just then a shot rang out.