I landed right next to Biker Beard. His face was inches from mine. His mustache was a gory red mess. Blood was smeared across his teeth. His eyes were sleepy, like he wasn’t sure where he was. He must have fallen on his face and knocked himself out.
I didn’t have time to think about it.
“See how you like the taste of crutches, pendejo!”
I rolled forward just in time to miss getting hit across the back of the head by Curly. He swung one crutch like a baseball bat. I felt the wind as it whirled past. Could’ve taken my head off. He brought the crutch down again like he was chopping wood. I rolled to the side and tried to hook his ankles with both my legs and trip him, but my knee twisted wrong, making the nails in my knee shoot up to my hip. The pain made me flail the takedown maneuver.
Curly jumped out of the way in time to keep his feet. He might have been right earlier when he’d said he was going to end my winning streak.
Headlights swept across me as a car drove toward us.
I hoped that was fucking security. They were supposed to be the ones to take care of thugs like this, not me. No blue lights came on. I guess it wasn’t security.
Curly turned to look, still holding my crutch like a weapon.
This was my chance. I reached across Biker Beard, who was still out, and grabbed my other crutch. I swung it at Curly’s Achilles’ tendon. His leg buckled and he went down on his ass. I scurried over to him on all fours and got my arms around his neck in a rear naked choke.
The whole time, the car headlights were pinned on us like spotlights. I didn’t know who it was. I hoped they were calling 911.
Curly was strong and fought against me. But I was stronger. Nothing wrong with my arms. It didn’t take long for him to lose blood flow to his brain. After way too long, he sagged in my arms, out cold.
I was heaving for air and hot as a blast furnace.
The entire fight had taken maybe a minute, two tops, but it felt like an hour.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Brigid ran out of the car and knelt beside me. “What did you do?” She sounded horrified.
“What did I do? What about them?”
“These men need emergency medical services.” She was checking Biker Beard’s pulse.
“Fuck these guys. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“I’m talking to 911 right now.” She held up her smart phone.
I snatched it from her hand and ended the call.
“What did you do that for?”
“I don’t want to deal with the cops. We need to vacate before they show up.”
“But 911 has my number. They know I called. I gave them my name.”
“Did you tell them my name?”
“No.”
“Then they don’t know it was me.”
“What does it matter?”
I glared at her, pissed even though she didn’t deserve it. “What matters is I’m a convicted felon with two strikes on my record. If I get locked up for this, I won’t be coming out for a long time.” I felt like a loser just saying it. Prison time was a badge of honor for some people, but not me. I was ashamed of it.
“Why would you get locked up? They attacked you!”
“You don’t know how the system works do you?” I hated talking about this.
“No, I…”
“Trust me, this looks bad.”
All three men were on the ground. Curly and Biker Beard were both out cold. Baggy was moaning in this wet gurgly way that had me worried about what I’d done to the hyoid bone in his throat. This was why throat punches were not allowed in the WMAA. You could easily kill someone. And I’d used my crutches, which were deadly weapons by anyone’s standards.
“What do you mean it looks bad? You’re on crutches. There were three of them. They started it.”
“Did you see them start it?”
“No. I was in the car circling around.”
“You prepared to lie on the witness stand?”
“Lie? I can’t lie.”
I smirked at her. “I need to get the hell out of here.” I wasn’t pissed at her but I didn’t have time to explain. I grabbed my crutches and stood up. I patted my pockets, making sure I had my keys, my phone, my wallet. Everything was there. Shit. My sunglasses had been hanging from my T-shirt collar. I looked around for them. Didn’t see them. I hoped my fingerprints weren’t on the lenses. They were already in the system, so if they were on the glasses, the cops would find me. I didn’t have time to search for them. I did find my Minions hat, which was on the ground next to Curly. I stuffed it in my back pocket.
“Okay, I’m out.” I started crutching toward the stairwell at the far end of the parking structure.
“Where are you going?” Brigid demanded.
“Away from here.” My first thought was the Metro. I could take the subway anyplace else and have someone pick me up. But I didn’t want her knowing that if she talked to the cops.
“Get in the car already,” she hollered.
“No. 911 knows who you are. They can track your phone.”
“I’ll turn it off.”
“That won’t work. You need to take the battery out.”
“I don’t think you can.”
“Then throw away your phone.”
“I can’t do that. I need it if the hospital calls.”
“I need to go.” I swung toward the stairwell as fast as I could. I felt like a piece of shit for dragging her into this. The simple solution was to make sure I left her out of it.
The sound of her car door slamming echoed against the cement. She drove up behind me, the headlights cutting across me and casting a long jittery shadow out in front of me. Her car crawled up beside me and she rolled her window down.
“This is ridiculous, Lion. It wasn’t your fault.”
“That doesn’t matter, Brigid. Self defense means you stop after subduing your opponent, not when you finish beating the fuck out of them with an aluminum pipe.”
“Let me help you.”
“Throw your phone out.” I didn’t need a kiss, a hug, and a cookie. I needed an escape plan.
“I can’t.”
“I know,” I grunted. This was insane and stupid all at the same time. Dan stared at me from the backseat where he sat behind Brigid. Had he seen me beating on those guys? I hoped not. Unlike martial arts class, real fighting was ugly.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m sure I am.” I couldn’t tell what was sweat dripping down my head and what was blood. I didn’t have time to check with my hands holding the crutches.
“This is crazy. Let me drive you someplace.”
My mind was spinning a thousand miles an hour. If I went to prison, who would take care of Aslan, Tigger, and Guenhwyvar? Then there were all the people who depended on me, my business partners who looked to me to call the shots and cut their paychecks every month. My absence would create unnecessary stress and extra work for everyone involved. It might even cost some of them their jobs. Not to mention it would make me look bad in the media, which meant I might lose some or all of my sports endorsements. And nobody wanted to send their kids to a karate chain owned by a three strikes felon sitting in prison. Well, not in some neighborhoods. The original school in East LA would probably get more membership signups because of it. But that was no way to think.
“Please, Lion. Let me help you.”
“What did you tell the cops?”
“I told the police that three men attacked my friend here in the parking lot.”
“Did you tell them where in the parking lot?”
“I said somewhere in Jurassic Parking.”
“Did you say which floor?”
“They didn’t ask.”
“It’s gonna take them a few minutes to find those thugs back there. I think we have time. Gimme a ride down to Cahuenga. Then you take off. Understand?”
“Oh—okay. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I could probably get an Uber car down on Cahuenga faste
r than anyone I knew could come pick me up. She stopped the car and I stuffed my crutches into the passenger footwell and climbed in.
Everyone was silent while we drove.
I felt like an idiot for dragging them into this. I also felt blood dripping down my cheek.
Brigid lifted the lid on the center console and handed me a box of tissues. “For your cut.”
“Thanks. You okay back there, Dan the Man?”
“Did you beat those guys up?” His voice was small and afraid.
“What did you see?” I was really worried about him. The way things turned out had been pretty gruesome. He didn’t need to see that.
“I saw you with your arms around that guy’s neck before he fell asleep, and two other guys lying on the ground.” Fell asleep. That sounded so much better than the reality. I wasn’t going to correct him.
“Did you see anything else?” I gave Brigid a concerned look. She gave me the same one, only on her it looked a bit disgusted. With me.
“No,” Dan muttered.
“Good. Dan my man, I need you to understand that fighting is never a good way to solve anything. I only did what I did because you and your mom were in danger. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” He didn’t sound too sure. “Are the police going to take you to jail?” he asked.
“I hope not.” Man, what kind of a role model was I? The worst kind, that’s what.
Brigid gave me another long look. She looked about as disappointed in me as I was in myself.
What was I going to say to her after this? Nothing that made any difference, that was for sure.
Because I had just fucked up.
Big time.
So much for our nearly perfect day.
After this, I was pretty sure Brigid would demote me from “just friends” to “just stay out of my son’s life, you violent felon.”
Chapter 14
BRIGID
“Lion, can I take you back to the dojo in Burbank? That’s where your car is, right?”
We were pulled to the side of the road on Cahuenga Boulevard, next to the big Armenian church with the hexagonal pyramid for a roof. I recognized it from whenever I drove by on the 101.
“No. I’m good.” He opened the car door and winced when he banged his knee climbing out. Good thing he had that knee brace on.
“Is your knee okay?”
“It’s fine,” he grunted as he reached in for his crutches.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”
“Better not.” He looked up and down the street nervously. “I don’t want to drag you into the mess I made.”
“It’s our mess.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
Was he worried about the police? All this was so far outside my wheelhouse, I had no idea what I should do. Then again, I never would’ve thought he was a convicted felon either. People were full of surprises.
My hands were still shaking with adrenaline. I couldn’t believe what had happened, but it had. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Daniel when we got home. I would have to tell Donald about it. Daniel was likely to have bad dreams about those men. If not dreams, it would come out some other way down the line. Somehow, Donald would eventually find out.
I hoped Daniel had only seen what he told Lion, namely the man “falling asleep.” Not that watching Lion cut off a man’s blood supply to his brain until he lost consciousness was a minor thing. Seeing it first hand through the car windshield was traumatic for me, so I could only guess at the effect it would have on my son. I just hoped that was all he’d seen. When we had turned the corner of the parking garage I had yelled at him to close his eyes while I focused on driving. I saw most of the fight, but I hoped Daniel hadn’t. But he’d obviously seen more than enough to be frightened.
I was grateful that Lion hadn’t been seriously hurt. The laceration on his scalp looked like it needed to be repaired with a few absorbable sutures, but it wasn’t life threatening. As for his knee, I hoped he hadn’t done any more damage to it. Hopefully the brace had protected it.
“I need to go,” Lion said and closed the door. The window was still down and he leaned against the doorframe. “If the cops come looking for you, who are you gonna say I am?”
“My friend.”
“They’ll ask for my name. What are you gonna say?”
“The truth.”
He stared at me for a long time, his eyes intense and haunted. Was he mad at me? I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t make a good criminal. I wanted to help him any way I could, but I wasn’t sure how. He didn’t deserve the trouble he was in. And none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t agreed to Universal Studios. Why hadn’t I called it a day after eating lunch in the park? Lunch was bad enough. The rest of the day definitely looked like a date to anyone with half a brain. It was a huge mistake and it was all my fault.
I heaved a sigh. “Do you want me to lie?” It wasn’t my preference, but somehow I felt I owed him for protecting me and Daniel. “I’ll tell the police you were someone else. I’ll tell them it was Donald.”
“Who’s Donald?”
“My ex-husband.”
“What will Donald say to the cops when they ask him how he beat up those three thugs?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” There was no way I could get Donald to entangle himself in a clumsy web of lies to protect a man he’d never met.
“If the cops come knocking, just tell them it was me. But we’ll cross our fingers and hope they don’t.”
My hand still quivered with adrenalin as I held up my fingers, crossing them. I hoped it did more good than the last time I crossed them.
He smiled. The first one I’d seen since before the fight. What a relief. “Better use every bit of your luck of the Irish on this, Irish.”
“I will. I promise.”
He turned to go.
“Don’t you want your Irish Kiss?”
He stared back at me through the windshield.
I considered hopping out of the car and running to him. Somehow this felt like a goodbye. A permanent one. That was the last thing I wanted. I barely knew this man, and yet I knew he was perfect for me. The same way he barely knew Daniel and yet they both acted like they’d been best friends forever. Every inch of my being said that Lion Maxwell was a good man. The right man for me. The only thing standing in our way was the Medical Board of California and it’s position on doctors dating patients, as well as the identical position held by Los Angeles Central Hospital. There was no way to explain to an ethics committee that the power dynamic that existed between Lion and me was balanced and fair. I had never met a man more powerful than him. The proof was his willingness to risk his life to protect me and Daniel. All I did for him was order an MRI for his knee, which I didn’t even do, and prescribe some pills before sending him on his way. I didn’t have a hold on him. He had a hold on me. A hold I was afraid would never let go, whether he stayed in my life somehow or left forever.
He saluted me. “See you around, Irish.”
Then he turned on his crutches and swung down Cahuenga on the empty night sidewalk. The sight of him making his getaway on crutches in a knee brace bordered on pathetic. My inability to help him made me feel equally pathetic. But what could I really do for him?
“Where is he going, Mom?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.”
“When do we see him again?”
“I don’t know.” My voice was tight and I could barely speak.
Silent tears dribbled down my face as I drove Daniel home.
Chapter 15
LION
A beat up old Cutlass Sierra rolled to a stop beside me. The brakes squeaked so loud I thought the noise would pierce my eardrums. The passenger window wobbled as it rolled down. It needed fixing bad. This late at night, the guy inside the boxy Cutlass could be anybody.
I was about a mile south on Cahuenga from where Brigid had dropped me off. Down in Hollywood where the hookers walked t
he streets. My armpits were killing me from walking all damn day on these miserable crutches. After landing on my knee in the fight, it was throbbing and I couldn’t put any weight on it without it shooting pain. At this point, I was willing to take a ride from anybody. I didn’t care who it was as long as I got off these damn crutches. I leaned down and looked in the car.
An old man wearing a flat driving cap and a worn out windbreaker leaned over and grumbled at me in a crunchy voice, “How much for a suck?”
I glared at him, “For you, old man? A million bucks.”
“It ain’t worth it.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I chuckled.
“Get in the car, asshole,” he laughed.
I opened the passenger door. “Good to see you too, Coach. Thanks for coming to pick me up so late.”
“You better have a damn good reason for dragging me out of bed in the middle of Saturday Night Live.”
“You still watch that piece of shit show? It’s been a dried out turd ever since Will Ferrell left.”
“You still want a ride home, smart ass?”
“Love the show. The new cast is better than ever. Who needs Will Ferrell?”
“Damn right. Get in. And buckle up your seatbelt. I ain’t going anywhere until you do.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“What in hell you doing gimping around on crutches in the middle of the damn night?”
“Long story.”
“Do I wanna know?” He stared at me over the top of the reading glasses he always wore.
I arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t wanna know.” He shifted the car into drive and pulled into traffic. The muffler farted as he accelerated.
“When are you gonna let me buy you a new car? This thing is falling apart.”
“I’m falling apart. You gonna replace me with a newer model?”
“Nah,” I chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to run you into the ground.”
“Heh heh heh.” He laughed his usual wheezy laugh. “Where we going, son?”
“My house?”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“I’m not.”
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