“Jesus!” He covers his nose, which is already gushing.
“Get out of my bar,” I say. He mumbles some shit under his breath, but I pay no attention. I watch as he walks out the door, and that’s enough for me.
“You gonna stand there staring after that asswipe or get me some damn ice?” Danny demands, cradling his fist as it swells.
“Yea, come on back to the kitchen.” I turn and head back that way as I hear Tina fuss over him, scooping ice into a towel for him.
“You coming?” I pester.
“Be there in a sec. I need a shot of whiskey for the pain.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Don’t drink the profits, asshole. We own this place now,” I tell him.
