Night Time: Two Novels

by H. T. Night

  It didn’t take long to get there and I pulled into the donut shop’s parking lot. There she was, sitting in the front, looking miserable and bereft. I motioned for her to come to my Mustang from my car. She got up and walked over to my car. I unlocked the passenger door and she got in the passenger seat.

  “Thank you, Tommy. I was running out of options.”

  “You must have if you’re reaching so far back in your rolodex that you’re calling one-night stands from two weeks ago.”

  “You know you were more than that,” she said, in a flirtatious way that I was definitely not in a mood to hear.

  “No,” I said. “I was definitely just a one-night stand. That’s all it was and nothing more.”

  I slowly backed out of the parking lot, turned my lights back on and pulled onto Harbor Boulevard. I stopped at the red light and sighed. I didn’t feel like talking to her but I needed to know where I was taking her. “Where to?” I asked.

  Then the most bizarre thing happened. Someone jumped on the hood of my Mustang. “What the fuck?” I yelled out.

  Then that same guy punched my front window with his fist. I jumped out of the car and saw that there were three of these assholes.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled at them.

  The person who had just punched a hole in my windshield with his bare fist said, “Why don’t you ask your friend?” He had long brown hair and looked really dirty.

  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 aro
und 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.”

  Sasha looked at me and with a wishful tone in her voice said, “I wish you believed me.”

  “So do I,” I said. “It would at least explain your erratic behavior.” I turned around and walked down to my car and didn’t look back. I got into my Mustang and headed onto the freeway and got to my apartment in about 20 minutes. I went straight to my bed and crashed. I looked over at my clock, it read 10:15. Maybe I can get four hours in.

  I closed my eyes and I had a bizarre itch come over my body. I scratched all over and each scratch felt a bit euphoric. I was sure satisfying the itch in a way that was almost therapeutic.

  I rolled over and protected my shoulder and fell asleep almost instantly. I woke up about one hour later. Someone’s car ala
rm was going off outside. What an asshole! Turn it off!

  I got up and went outside to yell at the jerk. I could hear the alarm and it was loud as ever. I began walking down the street, trying to find the car alarm. The closer I got to where the sound was coming from the more my ears felt like they were bleeding.

  I must have walked a half mile down the street. How fucking loud was the asshole’s alarm? Finally, I got into mini mall parking lot and there was a little yellow Volkswagen bug alarm just screeching away.

  There were people outside and I was shocked they weren’t floored by the noise like I was. This was the loudest alarm I had ever heard. It sounded like ten sirens going off at the same time. There was a guy walking toward me and he seemed pretty unaffected by the noisy alarm.

  “WHY ISN’T ANYONE TELLING THAT GUY TO TURN OFF HIS ALARM!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  The guy mouthed “Why are you screaming? It’s just a car alarm. It’s no big deal.”

  “JUST A CAR ALARM?!!” I screamed even louder. “IT COULD WAKE THE DEAD!”

  “No, asshole, your voice can wake the dead. Get a grip, will you?” The guy walked past me and got into his car.

  Huh? I looked over at another man calmly walking out of a bagel shop, pressing his keys that stopped the blaring obnoxious alarm. His alarm stopped and I could finally hear again. My ears were literally stinging. Damn, that was loud!

  The guy got into his little yellow bug and left. I looked around; there must have been a dozen people outside and not one of them cared. That alarm was so loud it woke me from a mile away. A mile?

  I turned around and went home. Well, so much for sleep. I had a fight tonight, and Mo wanted me there by 4:00 p.m. Los Angeles was about an hour away on a Saturday, so I thought that I better just get ready. I could sleep when I was dead. Which, at this rate, wouldn’t be much longer.

  I put my fight bag together and then took a long shower. I thought about my opponent and how Mo trained and prepared me for my fight. I needed to quit worrying about one-night stands and car alarms.