H.T. Night's 8-Book Vampire Box Set (92 page)

I looked at Sasha, “You know these
fuckers?”

“Oh, she knows us. We heard from a little
bird that she was stranded out here. But it looks like she got
herself a Cub Scout to come help her.”

“Did you call these guys to come pick you
up?” I yelled to Sasha, who was still sitting in my car.

“No, I called Gina and she must have told
them!” Sasha yelled back.

I could give a rat’s ass about who Gina was.
This piece of shit had just busted my windshield, not mention put a
big dent on my hood. This guy wasn’t that big and I definitely
could take him in my sleep. His two friends weren’t much bigger.
They were all in their mid-twenties, and all of them could have
used a shave and a shower.

Now, the guy who slammed my window was to
the right of me and the other two were on the left.

“Look, dick,” I said. “You’re going to pay
for my window.”

“What are you? A lawyer?”

“No, I’m a guy who is about to kick your
teeth in for fucking up his Mustang.”

The long-haired guy looked at Sasha and
said, “I guess a guy who runs a surf shop wasn’t good enough for
you.” Great, this douchebag was a scorned lover, too. How many exes
did she have?

“Eddie, we dated over a year ago. Get over
it,” Sasha yelled, from inside my vehicle.

She was still sitting in the passenger seat,
expecting me to just get in and drive off. That isn’t how I handled
my business. No one screwed with me, and especially, no one touched
my Mustang.

“OK, Eddie. You’re going to find out real
quick I’m not a lawyer and you just made the worst choice in
judgment anyone ever has by thinking you can smash my car.”

I was a professional mixed martial arts
fighter and I needed to be discreet about that specific detail
because this guy could sue me once he realized he just got
slam-dunked by a professional. But I didn’t care; this guy was
going to pay for his indiscretion. I charged to my left and grabbed
Eddie and threw him on the trunk lid of my car. He was a lot
stronger than I expected. He was like a little ball of iron.

He bounced off my trunk and then did a back
flip in the middle of the street. Cool, I thought. I got an athlete
on my hands. This will be fun kicking his ass. Luckily, there was
no traffic at 3 o’clock in the morning.

Eddie made a hand motion to his friend,
basically telling them to back off and that he would take care of
me. Little did he know what a bad-ass he’d just run into. Eddie
charged me, and tried to kick me in the nuts. It’s the most
predictable technique move in the street-fighting handbook. It’s a
bitch move—you kick your opponent as hard as you can in his
package, and just unload punches on him. But I was far too savvy to
let a twerp like this get over on me. I easily blocked his kick,
using the karate kid wax-off technique. It actually does really
work. I smacked his leg down and that relentless little turd tried
to kick me again. I caught his leg and lifted it straight up,
forcing him to fall on the ground. I knew grappling and wrestling
this guy was a risky move because his friends could jump on me in
seconds. I figure I would choke him out fast until he saw
stars.

On his back, Eddie came up at me. I took my
left arm and wrapped around his head in a reverse head lock. I just
cranked that baby down against his windpipe and it was lights out
for Eddie. I let go of him and he slumped against the asphalt.

Suddenly, I felt an elbow crack into the
back of my head. It was one of Eddie’s friends. Then I felt a
sensation I had never felt in my life. The motherfucker bit my
right shoulder but not a minor bite; he bit it like he was biting
into a rack of lamb. I never felt that sensation before. What the
hell just happened? This crazy asshole just bit a giant gash in my
shoulder. I literally heard him spit out my flesh.

Motherfucker! That fucking hurt! I did the
only thing I could; I threw my head back so hard that the back of
my skull cracked the guy’s nose. I heard his nose break as I
connected with it like a bowling ball hitting a walnut.

I turned around and the guy who bit me fell
straight back onto the asphalt. The third guy came at me and I
grabbed his head and knee-kicked him in his scrawny little chin,
then I slammed his head on the back of my car.

All three guys were semi-conscious and
crawling their way to the sidewalk. I could have stuck around and
finished them off, old-school, but I was better than these street
thugs. I got back into my car where Sasha was still sitting in the
passenger seat, looking on with exhilaration in her eyes. I
obviously just made her wetter than a Slip ’n Slide. I was the
ultra-bad boy in her eyes and had just proved it by kicking some
serious ass and wiping up the street with three guys. A girl like
this was probably more turned on than she had ever been in her
entire life.

I sat in my driver seat and looked straight
ahead at the spider crack in my windshield. Luckily, the putz
wasn’t that strong so he didn’t break through the glass. I still
had to drive back Ace Ventura-style, with my head sticking out of
my window.

I decided to just go down PCH toward
Huntington Beach. I looked over at Sasha, whose eyes were still
locked onto me like she had just discovered a million-dollar
diamond.

“Really?” I said. “Really? Are you kidding
me? That’s the kind of people you associate with? Grown men jumping
on cars?”

Sasha leaned over and touched my bloody
shoulder. My shoulder hurt in a way that it never had felt before.
I knew I had just jeopardized my fight tonight and that made me
more pissed than she’d ever know. “We are going to the E.R. I need
stitches. What the hell did you get me into?”

“I’m so sorry, Tommy. Those guys had no
reason to be there. He is just a jealous boyfriend and he was
really drunk.”

“Oh, really? That’s supposed to make it
better? I have a professional fight in nearly 12 hours. That’s my
livelihood. That’s how I make my living! I can’t even raise my arm.
Do you know how hard it is to get a shot in my sport? I’m fighting
at the Staples Center! Do you understand how huge that is? The
Lakers played there.”

“I’ll pay for your windshield.”

“You’re damn right you’re paying for my
windshield. But at the moment, I could give a rat’s ass about my
windshield. What I give a shit about is the two-inch gash in my
right shoulder. I’m right-handed Sasha. Seventy-five percent of my
coordination and strength comes from the right side of my body! How
can I fight like this tonight?”

“Can I go with you to the E.R.?” she
asked.

I looked at her and she seemed as concerned
as anyone could be in a situation like this but my Spidey senses
were out and this girl was a world-class con-artist. That was the
only explanation, and why she was running around with guys who
jumped on cars and fought strangers in the middle of a busy street.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re coming with me because I don’t have time to
drop you off.” From a distance, I saw a hospital near Beach
Boulevard.

I turned right and made my way around the
block to the emergency room. I hobbled into the back and filled out
the necessary paperwork and waited almost five hours for them to
fix me up. I didn’t say a thing about my fight later on. There was
no way I’d be cleared by this guy to participate in my match
tonight. I was not going to let anyone else know about my
injury.

I had already been checked out by California
Commission Doctors and cleared to fight yesterday. They would have
no idea that some idiot would bite off a chunk of my shoulder the
night before my fight and there was no way I was going to say
anything. I would fight one-handed if I had to. Southpaw, even.

It was 10 a.m. by the time I got out of the
E.R. I was scheduled to fight at 6:00 p.m. that night. I could have
gone home to get four to five hours of sleep and still have been
reasonably refreshed. I purposely didn’t take any of the pain
medication that the E.R. doctor had prescribed for me because I
didn’t want to be loopy. But damn, my shoulder was killing me. I
figured I could use the pain as motivation for my fight.

I started driving down Beach Boulevard.
“Okay, where do you live?”

Sasha was quiet.

“Where do you live?” I demanded.

Sasha sighed loudly.

“I’m waiting,” I continued.

“I don’t really have a place to stay.”

“Huh? When did your boyfriend break up with
you?”

“He didn’t exactly break up with me.”

“Did you break up with him?”

She paused, “No.”

“Well, where is he?”

“I don’t know, he’s kind of missing.”

“You mean he just up and left!”

“That’s what I’m hoping. My boyfriend was
married himself and was putting me up at an apartment in Brea.
About a week after I met you, he just quit contacting me. I called
him several times and even drove by his house. I can’t exactly call
his wife or go to the door and ask her where he is.”

“I hate to tell you, Sasha. He wised up and
went back to his wife.”

“They usually do.”

“Then maybe it’s time to quit living a
hundred miles an hour and get a real job and quit all this shit of
living on the edge 24-7.”

“I know. You’re right. He never paid the
January rent at my apartment. About a week ago, I was evicted.
Then, I was staying with a friend in Balboa, and he got real needy
and possessive. He got physical with me tonight, and I didn’t want
our friendship to go there, so, I waited for him to fall asleep and
I took off.”

“Where is your car?”

“A couple of days ago, it got
impounded.”

“For what?”

“Unpaid parking tickets.”

I just drove, staring straight ahead. It was
a cloudy day, and this was far too much drama for my taste. “Let me
get this straight. You have no car and no place to stay. Do you
have a job?”

“Well, I’m an actress.”

“That’s not a job unless you get royalties
for a commercial. Let me put this another way, do you have any
money for a motel?”

“No.”

“You’re broke?”

“I have about $17.00.”

“And that is why you called me, you knew I
was a good guy and you thought you could weasel yourself in my life
for a couple weeks until your next move.”

“You have it all wrong, Tommy.”

“Do I?”

“You do!” she said, emphatically.

“How so?”

“I’m running.”

“From who?”

“I’m running because I’m afraid I might have
done something really bad.”

I pulled over into Carl’s Jr. parking lot.
“What did you do?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s not good enough. How do you not know
if you’ve done something bad or not?”

“There is more to me than meets the
eye.”

The nerve of this girl! She was talking to
me all cryptically after what I just went through for her. “What?”
I said. “Are you a special agent or a bounty hunter?”

“Not exactly.”

“What are you?” I was now getting pissed
off.

“You’re not going to believe me, so I just
shouldn’t tell you.”

“Look, you turned my entire night upside
down and you probably fucked up my fight. So guess what? You are
telling me exactly what your deal is!”

Sasha paused and then looked me in the eye,
“I’m a werewolf.”

Chapter Six

I hit the brakes, pulled over, threw it in
park, and stepped out of my Mustang. I walked to the sidewalk that
was parallel to Beach Boulevard, breathing hard. What kind of nut
job did I get myself involved with?

Sasha stepped out of my vehicle and walked
over to me. Cars were whizzing by and it was pretty chilly. I was
still dressed for a pickup basketball game at a local park, but I
didn’t care. I had heard enough. I needed to take this woman to a
halfway house where they treated mentally-ill patients.

Sasha sat next to me on the curb. I didn’t
even feel like arguing with a crazy person. I didn’t feel like
talking at all and needed to get home so I could rest.

“Do you believe me?” Sasha stared deep into
my eyes. What a con job. She was good. Her eyes were as sincere as
I had ever seen in my life.

“Do I believe you?” I repeated.

“Yes, do you believe me?”

I looked at her and gave her a look that
said, ‘You can’t be serious.’ I just laughed out loud.

“So, you don’t believe me.”

“Sasha,” I said. “A werewolf? Really? It
gets more ridiculous by the minute with you. You’re not well.
You’re either crazy or a pathological liar. Either of those choices
isn’t someone I need to be associated with. Listen, I’m going to
take you to the Radisson Inn and I’m going to pay for three nights.
Stay there and figure out your next move.”

“How secure are their rooms?”

That was a strange response. “They’re
secure. It’s a fancy hotel.”

“Can you padlock yourself in from the
inside?”

“I don’t know. I would imagine so. Why?”

“Because tomorrow night is the first full
moon.”

“Oh, you’re right.” I said, condescending.
“We better make sure we lock down the furniture so you don’t break
anything, being that you’re a werewolf and all.”

“We should!” Sasha said, as serious as a
heart attack. Wow, she was Looney Tunes.

We went back to my car I drove down a couple
of streets and pulled into the Radisson Inn. I got out and went to
the front office and paid the guy cash. I had to show a credit card
and that made me nervous. I didn’t know if one of Sasha’s many
wonderful traits were that she was also a kleptomaniac. I walked
Sasha up to her room and stopped in front of her door.

“You want to come in?” she asked.

I gave her a look that must have answered
the question before I said it, “No, I’ll pass. I’m exhausted. I
need to go home and sleep. I’m done, Sasha. Have a good life.”