Page 37 of Nuts

He raised his hands and took a step toward me. It appeared he was choosing fight over flight.

It wasn’t a wise decision on his part. I inhaled a quick breath, leaned back, and then drove the top of my head into his face with every ounce of energy I could gather.

What little of his nose had survived the first punch had no chance of making it through the impact of my hard head.

His hands shot to his face, and he stumbled against the wall.

Two successive blows to the nose had rendered him senseless. Regardless, I was far from finished. He’d done the unthinkable to one of the few women on earth I cared about, and I wasn’t going to go easy on him.

Not at all.

I raised my right foot, planted it against his chest, and kicked him to the floor. He tried to stand, but in his semi-conscious state, his brain and his legs were having a difficult time communicating.

I reached into my back pocket, removed the roll of electrical tape I’d taken from my garage, and before he could provide much resistance, pulled his hands behind his back and taped his wrists together. Now hillbilly handcuffed and sitting on the floor, he looked up at me with confused eyes.

He blinked a few times. “You’re the neighbor, right?”

“Yep. That’s me. Name’s Welsh. Percy L. Welsh. When we’re done, you can call the cops if you’d like. That is, if I don’t kill you.”

I looked around the living room. A chair in the corner of the room was only a few away. I leaned against the arm of it and looked at him.

I raised my right foot off the floor a few inches. “If you try to get up, I’m going to plant the toe of this size 12 Doc Marten on your face. Get comfortable.”

His eyes darted left, and then right.

Then, he tried to stand.

I slid off the edge of the chair, raised my right foot, and kicked him in the face as hard as I could.

Although I’d promised to give him the toe of my boot, his squirming caused my heel to catch his upper cheek. The soft rubber sole gripped the skin of his cheek and tore through it like a knife, leaving a four-inch gash.

On his back moaning like the little bitch he was, he began to realize I wasn’t there to be nice.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed. “Why in the fuck--”

“Shut up,” I said. “Or I’ll give you the boot again.”

He looked like he’d narrowly escaped death in a bare knuckles MMA fight. Despite his curiosity, he inched toward the wall behind him and leaned his head against it.

“What are--”

“What did I tell you?” I asked. “I’m not in the mood to listen to you.”

I leaned against the chair, let out a sigh, and looked right at him. “Listen to me.”

One eye was swollen shut, and what little of his nose remained was distorted so bad it was difficult to tell what it was. Regardless, he appeared to give me his full attention.

“Don’t agree, don’t disagree, just listen. Got it?”

He nodded.

I slid off the arm of the chair and began to pace the small living room. “A man has a responsibility on this earth. Respect his parents. Don’t lie to anyone but the cops. Don’t take things that aren’t yours. And never, no matter what, raise your hand to a woman.” I locked eyes with him. “You failed on at least one of those responsibilities.”

His only available eye fell to the floor in what I suspected was shame.

“If you ever, and I do mean ever, come near Joey again, if I don’t kill you tonight, I can promise you I will the next time. If you think you want to try something slick, and do something to me, or to my bike, think again. You’ll have the entire MC over here on you so fast you won’t have time to blink. When I leave here tonight, count your losses, realize you’re a piece of human shit, and learn to live with it. Any form of repercussion will only earn you a one-way ticket to meet your maker.”

He looked up.