Read Online Counterpoint by John Day - Free Book Online Page A

this for him before, and no one could have done it better.
That’s Mel C out of a job he thought.
    Carla left the stage ignoring the pleas
for more and sat down smiling at Max. You’re a girl of many talents
he said admiringly, I have always loved that slight huskiness in
your voice, particularly when you speak softly. She grinned and
tapped her knees together, pleased with herself.
    The table was cleared, and they paid
the bill.
    Max said, “Shall we go to the bar
before we go home?”
    “Ok. I’ll have a pineapple juice, no
ice.”
    Max ordered and paid for the drinks. A
few minutes later, a man in his early thirties got up from his
table, leaving two other men watching him, and approached
Carla.
    Obviously drunk, he said, “I heard you
sing, and you look very beautiful, I want to buy you a drink.”
    “That’s very kind, but I have one and I
am going home in a minute,” she replied.
    “What do you do for a living he
persisted?”
    Carla smiled enigmatically and
whispered. “It’s very secret work, so I really can’t say,” and
moved away from him.
    “Come on! You can tell me, I can keep a
secret.” She moved extremely close to him and let her fingers walk
up his chest, following them thoughtfully with her eyes.
    Then she looked up with a sweet smile
and deadly cold eyes that penetrated to his soul and said, “Well! I
could tell you, but then I would just have to kill you!”
    Shocked, he immediately drew back.
    “Well, just a kiss then!” He lurched
forward and with his hand behind her head pulled her face to his.
She offered no resistance, just stood there, arms by her side,
until he forced his tongue into her mouth. She bit it with all her
strength and did not let go. He screamed, blood splattering onto
her face as he managed to pull away, his tongue was in shreds.
    He lunged at her again, she nutted him
extremely hard on the bridge of his nose. More screaming and blood
issued from the man and then he suddenly turned and crashed through
the doorway into the street.
    Carla walked over to the man’s table
and used the remainder of his drink as a mouthwash, spitting the
swill back into the glass and using his napkin to wipe her
face.
    One of the other men got up and aimed a
punch at Max’s face. Sidestepping, the blow went over his right
shoulder. Max brought his linked hands, down hard on the man’s
right shoulder, forcing him down by kicking his feet from under
him.
    With the man’s face to the floor, one
hand gripping the man’s wrist, the other his elbow, keeping the arm
straight, Max stood on the man’s right shoulder blade with all his
force. The man’s shoulder gave a sickening gristly crunch as it
became dislocated.
    Max let the useless arm fall on the
screaming man, who rolled over onto his back and grabbed Max’s
ankle, to unbalance him. Transferring all his weight to the foot,
so it would not slide, Max stamped down hard with the other foot,
onto the man’s lower rib cage, cracking several ribs like twigs.
Overcome with more chronic bone pain the thug lay screaming on the
floor.
    As bar staff helped him up and outside,
the remaining man decided to leave, as well. The doorman stopped
him and escorted him back into the pay desk to settle the bill. The
manager, who had seen everything, asked Max and Carla to leave at
once through the back entrance to avoid any trouble.
    “Well, Carla! You certainly know how to
give a guy a good time! You won’t be able to go back there
again.”
    “I thought I showed great diplomacy and
tact,” she replied sarcastically. “It will be at least a month
before my chap will be able to show his bruised face,
anywhere.”
    When they got home, Carla was unusually
quiet.
    “What’s troubling you asked Max?”
    “I hate this,” she said tearfully.
“When people see a young girl having a good time with an older man
they always think the worst.
    They thought I was a cheap tart with
her sugar daddy.
    I hate it; I really hate it!
    I thought I had left that