Chapter 3: The Supremacy Shattered
Mark finally turned his head, his brow furrowing with a mix of confusion and indignation. "What did you say to me?"
"I said," Brick repeated, his voice calm, "that you’re making a lot of noise. And I said that you’re bothering the lady."
Mark stood up, his face reddening as he tried to project the same dominance he had used on his wife. He puffed out his chest, his eyes wide with a manic, defiant glee. "This is a domestic matter! Stay out of it unless you want to spend your night in the emergency room!"
Mark stepped toward Brick, intending to shove him. It was a gesture of pure, unadulterated ego. He didn't understand that he was walking into a wall of solid, conditioned muscle.
He lunged, his hand reaching out to grab Brick’s hoodie, but Brick simply moved a fraction of an inch, his hand shooting out to grasp Mark’s wrist. The sound of Mark’s intake of breath was sharp—the giant’s grip was like a steel vice.
"See, that’s the problem," Tiny rumbled, stepping into Mark’s personal space. The diner had gone deathly silent. Even the waitress had stopped talking, her phone pressed against her ear, watching with a mixture of shock and satisfaction. "You think because you’re a big man at home, you’re a big man everywhere. But out here? You’re just a bully who needs to be taught how to behave."
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Mark’s face lost its color. The intoxication of his dominance vanished, replaced by the cold, biting reality of terror. He looked at the two massive figures, the white athletic tape on their knuckles gleaming under the fluorescent lights. He tried to pull his arm back, but he couldn't move it. He was tethered to a force he couldn't possibly hope to challenge.
"You’re going to sit down," Brick commanded, his grip unrelenting. "You’re going to pay your tab. And then you’re going to walk out that door and keep walking until you reach the next county. If you come back, or if you touch her again, you won't be talking about a hospital visit. You’ll be talking about a lifetime of regret."
