By now many of the people around had stopped dancing and were watching the altercation. Harold smiled and turned back to Seth’s women. Just before he turned back he said, “Fine. If he wants to do this the hard way we can. You all just hold onto him to keep him from hurting himself.”
This time Harold reached out and tried to pull Tasha up against his body. Tasha reached into the pocket on her southwest peasant style skirt. When she pulled her hand out there was a flash of something bright then Harold let out a blood curdling scream. This time it was Tasha who was holding onto Harold. She was pressing her little 3″ bladed knife lightly into his crotch. She hissed loudly enough to be heard over the dance area and first row of tables, “You get your hands off me asshole and make sure your slimy friends let my husband go too. If you don’t do what I say you’ll never stick that cock into another pussy as long as you live. If you move I’ll slice that little piece of meat completely off.”
There were tears in Harold’s eyes. He looked down at the small knife sticking in his crotch. There appeared to be a small spot of blood coloring his trousers now. Tasha’s black eyes had a cold deadly look to them. She continued talking, “While we’re waiting here why don’t you tell these fine people what you were trying to do to me tonight. While you’re at it tell them about all the lies you and your friends told about my husband before he left town? You keep messing with me and my husband and what he did to you three years ago will look like kindergarten play.”
Harold was shaking from fear. His knees were weak. He almost collapsed but forced himself to stand when he felt the little knife press deeper into his crotch. The added pain and surge of fear almost paralyzed him. All at once his crotch became very wet. He had actually pissed himself from fear and pain. Seth took the opportunity to break away from the two men holding him when they stared at the blood and piss in Harold’s crotch. All the hard work Seth had been doing paid off there. After he broke their holds on him Seth stepped back slightly. The two men turned with him and began to reach for him once again. Their faces were distorted with anger. It was apparent they hated to be thwarted.
The man who had spoken to Harold previously said, “You and the little bitches are going to regret this cuck boy. You’ve messed with us for the last time.” The two stepped toward Seth and both raised their fists. Seth quickly stepped to the side and slammed his foot into the side of loudmouth’s knee as hard as he could. There was an audible crack. The large man screamed and dropped to the floor. His hands were already cradling his injured knee. Seth instantly turned on the other approaching man and slammed his left fist into his stomach. When he bent over Seth whipped an upper cut to his chin. Another loud crack and he too collapsed onto the floor.
Patrice and her two friends rushed up to the altercation. The friends were on their knees beside their Bulls crying. Patrice was dancing back and forth in fear and anger. Her eyes were fixed on Harold who was barely standing albeit he was very, very still. Tasha looked at the two for a moment then slowly pulled her knife from Harold’s crotch. When it was disengaged from his flesh she flicked her wrist and sliced his pants open. He moaned and collapsed onto the floor. Patrice knelt beside him and wrapped him in her arms. She glared up at Seth and Tasha. The two wimpy husbands were dancing around the edges of the altercation not knowing what their mistresses and Bulls wanted them to do. Finally one of them ran to the table and brought back a wet napkin that he handed to Patrice for Harold.