Blood poured out of Seth’s nostrils, but he seemed unfazed. The three men he’d decided to take on were bleeding in various places too—mouths, noses, chins. One even had blood dripping from his temple.
“Enough,” Dylan snapped as he launched himself into the fold. He nearly caught a blow to the side of the head, but managed to block it at the last second.
“I’m calling the fucking cops!” the bouncer was shouting. The big man succeeded in getting one of the beefheads in a headlock and began dragging his prey away like a lion collecting his carcass.
From the corner of his eye, Dylan saw Aidan grab hold of the other muscleman, leaving Seth to deal with the remaining one. Seth got in a few more punches that sent his victim’s head snapping back before two more bouncers flew onto the patio and put an end to the commotion.
Next thing Dylan knew, he was being thrown over the low railing separating the patio from the alley behind it. A thud, then another, as Seth and Aidan landed on the pavement beside him.
“Get the fuck up!” One of the bouncers, an enormous African-American with a skull tattoo on his neck, loomed over them, his massive arms crossed over his massive chest.
Dylan staggered to his feet. The adrenaline coursing through his blood, combined with all the alcohol he’d consumed, made him light-headed and more than a little queasy. His stomach churned, prompting him to take a deep breath before he lost his dinner all over the bouncer’s feet.
His ears proceeded to ring during the entire altercation that followed, but he understood the gist of what went down. He, Seth and Aidan were being thrown out. So were the muscleheads Seth had decided to pound on. The club manager came out at one point, spewing threats about pressing charges and whatnot, but eventually she lost steam and told them to “get the fuck out of her sight”.
The bouncers escorted the six men to the curb. Everyone was oddly silent and subdued, and a few minutes later, the three beefheads stumbled into a cab, aiming three death looks in Seth’s direction before they disappeared.
Dylan noted that not a single one of those dudes had come after Seth during the wait for the taxi, nor had they offered any parting words along the lines of “this isn’t over”. And he doubted that had anything to do with the angry bouncers standing four feet away. No, judging by the sad, bloodied state those losers had left in, Seth had clearly made an impact.
Dylan’s gaze drifted to the two bouncers at the door, who returned his stare with matching menacing scowls. Yeah, there was no way he was getting back in that club tonight. So much for dancing the night away with Rachel.
Hell. He wasn’t even in the mood for sex anymore. He’d jarred his shoulder while trying to break up that fight, and now it was throbbing again. Damn it. He’d consumed a shit-ton of beer and whiskey shots tonight, specifically to reach the point where the pain faded into that numb sort of nothingness, and now all his hard work was down the drain.
Tightening his lips, he glared at Seth, whose gray eyes displayed sheer boredom. Boredom, for fuck’s sake. The guy had just rearranged the faces of not one, not two, but three dudes, his nose was a bloody mess, and he was standing there like it was no biggie.
“You couldn’t let it go, huh?” Dylan cracked.
His roommate shrugged. “Not really.”
Aidan, who hadn’t said a word since they’d been tossed out of the club, looked from one SEAL to the other, then chuckled. “Didn’t I hear something about you guys getting locked up for brawling a while back?”
“You heard right,” Dylan mumbled. “And that last brawl wasn’t my fault either. Apparently I hang out with cavemen who can’t control their tempers.”
Rolling his eyes, Seth reached into his pocket for his wallet and dug out a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll spring for a cab for you,” he said, handing Dylan the cash. “I’m gonna hang around here until Miranda gets off.”
Dylan barked out an incredulous laugh. “You have to report to the CO in like four hours.”
“Which is why there’s no point in even going to bed. I’ll wait for Miranda to get off, just in case those assholes decide to come back here and cause trouble for her.”
“Suit yourself. You’ll be the one dead-ass tired in the water tomorrow.” Dylan pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts, but his vision kept going in and out of focus. “Shit, I know I have a cab number in here, but everything’s starting to spin.”
“Forget the cab. I’ll take you home,” Aidan offered.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s not a problem.”
Dylan’s foggy brain registered a thought. “Aw shit, I can’t go home. I don’t want the kids to see me drunk.”
Aidan’s brows shot up. “You’ve got kids at your place? Since when?”
“Miranda and her children are staying with us,” Seth explained. “Their apartment flooded.”
“Ah. I see.”
“And the rugrats are asleep by now,” Seth pointed out.