The Bar

31. The Fight

Flint walked into the bar, and once he stepped foot across the threshold people turned to look, conversations quieted, even the low music seemed to stop. He took the steps to the dinning platform with easy, heavy strides. His anger was getting worse and worse by the second and you could see it on his face. 

They were sitting at the same table, the four men, dressed in clean button up shirts and slacks, their hair brushed and parted. They were straight out of a Macy's commercial. 

Flint stood by the table, looking at Clara's father with his teeth clenched together so much that his jaw began to ache. His nostrils flared, his skin was red, his hands were clenched into fists, it was as if someone had threatened to take everything he held dear. 

The men looked up at Flint, then at Clara's father. Flint and her father stare at each other with such hatred that it makes everyone in the room worry. 

"Get up," Flint says through his teeth. Clara's father stands, he walks around the table to stand in front of Flint. 

"Where is my daughter?"

"She isn't your daughter. There is not a single thing that you two have in common," Flint says. 

"She is mine. She ne-," Her father begins to talk but at the sentence 'she is mine' Flint snaps. Clara was his, and only his. Clara was his to love, his to care of, his to hold, kiss, taste, his. 

Flint swung his fist, joining it to the man's face so hard that the man fell to the floor in an instant. Blood spilled from the man's mouth. 

"Jonathan?" One of the men at the table checked to see if Clara's Father, Jonathan, was alright. 

"Jonathan, how formal..." Flint chuckled. He knelt down beside Jonathan, one hand pushed away Jonathan's friend and the other hand gripped Jonathan's jaw. Flint lifted the wounded man up by the jaw, forcing him to sit up and look at Flint. 

"I told you, I warned you...You come back here, you even mumbled her name, you would be a dead man," Flint says. 

"I'm calling the police, this has gotten way out of hand!" Another one of Jonathan's friends says standing up with his phone. 

"Go ahead, I think they would love to hear about the things you all have done to that innocent girl," Flint nearly yells at him. Jonathan's friend halts and sits back down, stressed beyond his limit. 

"How about this...I really don't want to have to clean up blood off of my floor tonight, a little is fine, but I don't want to clean up a lot, so I am gonna let you four walk out of here with only a broken jaw. Sound fair?" Flint stands up.

"Wheres my daughter? you fucking creep!" Jonathan yells from his position on the floor. 

Swiftly Flint kicks the man's side, causing him to curl up and wheeze. 

"Get out of my bar!" Flint yells. 

The sound of glass breaking causes Flint to shift his gaze to behind him. That stressed out friend of Jonathan had grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it, pointing the sharp broken bottle at Flint with intention. 

"Don't be stupid, you fucking-," Flint begins but Jonathan's friend interrupts him by thrusting the sharp bottle into Flint's arm. A waitress screams. The sting of the glass being injected into his shoulder makes Flint hiss in pain for a mere second. Flint pulls the glass out of his arm, tosses it on the floor then looks up, ready to swing his fists at the man who had just stabbed him, but he was gone, running out the door before Flint could swing away. Flint turns back to Jonathan. 

"Just give us the girl, it shouldn't be that hard! She's fucking worthless to you," Jonathan's 2nd friend says standing up from his chair. 

"Worthless?" Flint repeats with a chuckle. "Is that how you Sevonism cult followers see women? as worthless beings?" 

"Only the ones who whore around!" The man replies. With that, Flint grabs the man by his shaggy hair, and brings him down onto the table. His head meets the impact of the hardwood table and he is out like a light, stumbling to the ground with a thud. 

"You wanna be next?" Flint asks pointing to Jonathan's 3rd friend, the one he had pushed earlier. 

"I just want to help her, okay? She needs to be cleansed," The man says. 

"You mean beaten? Raped? put in a fucking closet for days?" Flint says his voice rising with every word. 

"She deserves it!" Jonathan yells standing now, stumbling and dizzy but standing nonetheless.

Flint swings again, his tight fist collides with Jonathan's face in an uppercut. The man falls backwards landing on his ass quickly. Blood flows down out his mouth even more. Jonathan had bit a good chunk of his tongue, even chipped a tooth from tbe impact. Jonathan is out cold, like he had fallen asleep on the bar floor.

Jonathans last friend stood tall, his hands shut into fists. He grinds his teeth, ready for a fight.

Clara exited the storage room slowly. She looked around until she finally spoted Flint on the dinning platform. Before she could take anothet step however, Najeem stood before her. His hands gripped her shoulders and whispered to her.

"You need to go back in his office, now," he says sternly.

"Clara!" A man yells. She looks over Najeems shoulder instantly wishing she hadn't.

The man was tall, black, crew cut hair, a 5-o-clock shadow, chiseled features, and sky blue eyes. A quick memory of looking into those blue eyes as the man pushed her down onto the table in his kitchen.

"Clara, sweetheart," the man says stepping off the platform hurriedly.
Najeem turned to look at the man, he pushed Clara behind him, creating a shield.
Flint was hurrying after the man, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

"Dont even think about it!" Flint grabs the man by the collar, nearly lifting him off of the floor.

"Clara, tell him who I am, that I'm family," the man says sternly as he shifts out of Flint hold.

She didnt say anything, her heart was racing so fast. The man in front of her was a terrible man. One who had tortured her with the last level of retribution multiple times.

"Clara, baby, come here and te-" the man begins to order Clara but Flint's hand wraps around the mans throat. His grip tightens and the man gasps for air.

"Flint!" Clara exclaims worriedly. She didnt want him to commit anothet act that he would regret. Another murder that he would have to live with.

"Flint, stop, your going to kill him!" Clara screamed trying to move past Najeem.
Flint's face was red, images from his imagination fled his brain, what it must have looked like for her to go through the punishments. What pain she must have been through.

"Flint!" Clara calls out, her voice sounding like a distant echo to him. Najeem realizes that if Flint wasn't stopped soon, the man would be dead. Najeem lets Clara go, allowing her to run to Flint. She grabs his arm, pulling him.

"You need to stop, your going to kill him!" Clara pleads. Flint shifts his gaze from the gasping man to the innocent girl beside him. Her eyes are red, holding back tears of worry, her pleading voice echos in his head, her eyes pierce through him like another bottle was stabbing him. Flint lets go, dropping the man to the floor.

Flint turns to Clara, her hands on his arms, tighting her grip, holding onto him for dear life. Flints arms move around her, pulling her to him, her head barried in his chest. He tightens his grip on her.

The bar door swings open and like everyone suspected, the police had been called.