NorthWest (John Hazard - Book II) (6 page)

It was that last requirement that kept Mark out of trouble and allowed him to spend many a night in the clubs without any confrontation. He saw a lot of big guys in the bars where he would hang out that fit the profile, but typically they’d be there with just one woman.

Almost by accident, Mark had discovered that when a man had two women with him, one could be vulnerable to the offers of another interested party. Likely, at least one of them was in love with the guy. The other resented the favored one and was glad that someone else could intervene, cause a disturbance, or maybe even kick his ass for being so stupid and selfish.

Often, if things went as planned, Mark could talk one or even both of the girls into going home with him. This usually happened when he really poured it on thick. If he was having a good night, he might even get laid.

Last night when he was out, he thought he had hit the jackpot. There was a guy who had three women with him. They were so hot he thought he was going to have a boner before he had time to start some shit. So he waited a bit longer than usual to make his move on the girls and gave himself time to deal with his uncontrollable urges and raging hormones.

Mark always began his approach by staring, not so subtly, at the women for a long time. He paid close attention to their every move. He did not try to hide that he was watching because that always got the guy pissed off, making him easier to beat. A man who fights with emotion makes mistakes because he allows his passion to make the decisions. Mark had learned that during his martial arts studies, and he used it to his advantage.

He found a seat within about ten feet of their table. The music was thumping and, though he could see them talking, he had no idea what they were saying. Next he began looking at the women, staring until he had eye contact with each of them. He would smile, like he was glad he’d been caught, which of course he was. As usual, the guy ignored him for the first hour or so, and Mark waited for him to ask that golden question, “What the fuck are you lookin’ at?”

A guy with two babes often has a bit more self-confidence than the guy sitting there with his wife. It takes a lot of money or a lot of mental control to land two fish, but how awesome that this guy had three! This had to be the Super Bowl of all women wrangling events, and Mark was ready to earn the ring.

Problem was, the other team appeared to be a real pro. This guy seemed to not give much of a shit who was staring at him or his ladies. In fact, he would look at Mark, smile, grab a breast, suck some face, or just plain thrust his hand into a crotch to piss him off. So Mark bided his time. He was waiting for his chance to exercise the restroom maneuver.

The restroom maneuver meant waiting until the girls went to the ladies room together, then he could intercept and proposition. Around midnight, two of the girls started to gather their small club handbags as though they were ready to make a move. Mark saw his opportunity and headed to the hallway where the restrooms were located. As the girls approached, he made his move.

“It’s a beautiful moonlit night out there, and you two girls look like thrill seekers. Wouldn’t it be awesome to fly to Vegas, check out that moon from above the clouds, hit some casinos, have a few laughs, and then head back at dawn?”

The girls looked at each other and the blonde spoke first, “Are you smoking something, asshole?” She said in a husky voice. The brunette interjected, “Oh hell, yeah! Vegas, baby! I’m in. We’ll fly down there, get a hotel room, do some gambling, and you can suck our dicks till the sun comes up!!!” Her voice was not quite right.

Mark realized what was wrong as the two ‘girls’ stepped into the men’s restroom. “Dicks?” he said aloud as his mind processed the words. “Oh shit!” he muttered under his breath as he came to the full realization he had just hit on two guys. “Fucking San Francisco!”

He just stood there somewhat stunned. He could feel the heat spread across his face, as he turned red with anger and embarrassment. He didn’t realize how long he had been standing there, and by the time he started to move toward the rear exit, it was too late.

As the two came out of the restroom, they saw Mark slowly heading toward the back of the club. They walked over and grabbed him, each one by an arm, escorting him back toward their table. Had his reflexes been just a little sharper, he would have broken their grip right there in the somewhat secluded part of the club, but by the time he came to his senses, they were about to cross the dance floor. “Fucking let go of me!” He tried to yell louder than the thumping music the DJ was playing.

“What? Come on baby, come and meet Mitch and Candy, they are just gonna eat you alive.” The blonde yelled over the music while doggedly dragging him as he tried to wrench himself free.  It was then that Mark had a near out of body experience and he realized what was happening. Everyone in the club could see two dudes dressed like really hot chicks hauling him across the dance floor.

Were his feet really dragging as they pulled him? Were they thinking he was looking forward to some hide the popsicle session? He had thrown out the invitation and volunteered his plane to take them to Vegas! “Oh, hell no!” He felt the surge of adrenalin as his inner animal began to emerge.

“Fuck this shit!” he yelled, sweeping his right leg out and knocking the blond off his heels, sending him slamming and skidding face-first into the parquet wood dance floor. At the same time he brought his left fist up connecting with the nose of the brunette putting the guy on his knees as the lights went dim before him. The scream went unnoticed as it melted into the thump-thump of the music, but the dancers were becoming aware that something was wrong and began to clear an area around the action that was unfolding in their midst.

Two people were writhing and bleeding on the floor and more and more dancers had stopped and were standing there looking at them in shock. Right about then was when Candy stood up. The fierce look of an assassin shot across her face as she stepped out of her 6-inch spiked heels, reducing her to about five feet and one inch of lethal female aggression.

Mark was busy kicking the blonde who was now lying on the floor in a fetal position with his arms wrapped around his head. With each kick, he screamed profanities. “You.. (kick) fuckin
’
.. (kick) think.. (kick).” He was so involved that he didn’t see Candy coming up from his left side. He finally noticed that the stunned crowd around him was looking in that direction.

Candy was moving with the grace of a ballerina as she crossed the floor, each foot methodically placed in her dance of destruction, the crowd seeming to part like the Red Sea before her. She wore a bright red silk top and a glittering silver miniskirt that shimmered in the shafts of light reflecting off of the disco ball that hung from the ceiling. Her full breasts bounced as she came towards him and the crowd was fixated on her as the music suddenly stopped. You could have heard a pin drop except for a few people gasping and muttering their outrage. They were quietly urging Candy to kick his ass.

That was when his mind finally comprehended the style of her movements. She was swaying from side to side as she walked toward him, her arms making definite patterns, her eyes focused like lasers on him as she covered the distance between the table and him in a flash. Mark had just enough time to say three words before she made her move at him. “Fucking Kung Fu?”

As she leapt into the air, her leg flashed out and her foot caught Mark on the side of the head. He heard his jaw crack as the kick dropped him to the floor. He was really hurting now, the world was spinning and he regretted the choice he had made in attacking the two girly-boys. Helpless to move, he laid on his back, trying to get up. Hell, trying just to breathe.

He looked up from his position on the floor and the gorgeous, badass bitch was straddling him, intentionally showing him her panty-less crotch. This one was definitely a she, and was waiting for a sign that he got that message. As soon as she saw the look of surprise on his face, and she knew that he knew a woman was about to kick his ass, she proceeded to stomp his lights out.

Eleven

Emily burst through the gate at the station, rushed onto the train, and headed straight for home. She was out of breath and sweating profusely as she took a seat so upset that she almost sat on the little old lady who was sitting there.

“I’m so sorry.” She said, but the woman just looked at her with tired eyes. Embarrassed and blushing, she moved to a different seat. Once she was seated, she tried to plan her next move. She knew that it would take two or three times as long to drive across town than it took by train. She tried to calculate the distance of the walk from the station to her apartment and how long it would take to get home. She figured she might have about thirty minutes from the time she got to her apartment, to get some clothes and things together. The thugs would be driving and dealing with traffic. It would take them longer to get there.

She wondered if they would actually come after her. It would be easy since they had her address from the résumé, but was it really worth it to them to follow through? Kill her? Probably, since she was the only real witness to the murder. The only thing she could do now was run. Run and try somehow to get someone to help.

Leaving the station, she briskly walked down the street toward home. She looked in every direction for parked cars that might look unfamiliar, suspicious, or had people sitting in them, but all was clear.

Arriving home, she crossed the street and walked up the front steps of the old apartment building sliding her key into the lock of the lower entry door. Before going in, she looked around again to verify that all was clear. She checked her mailbox and found a few late bill notices as usual. Tucking them under her arm, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.

When she got to the landing on the second floor, she stood outside the door and carefully pressed her ear to it to see if she could hear anything inside the apartment. It was quiet. She inserted her key into the lock, turned the doorknob carefully and slowly opened the door.

Ralph leapt at her from behind the door and she screamed, scaring him. The large orange tabby ran for the bedroom. “Ralphie, I’m sorry baby. You scared mommy.” She closed the door and followed him to the bedroom and reached under the bed to get him. He always hid under the bed when he was nervous or when she was angry with him for scratching the furniture or eating the houseplants.

She picked him up and sat down on the bed. “Mommy has to go away for a while, but we’re going to get someone to take care of you...” She stroked his short fur and he purred loudly pushing himself into her hand. “But who are we going to get right now? Shit!” and Ralph cringed again in her arms.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her directory until she came to Diane, her neighbor. She pushed the call button and waited. After two rings, Diane answered. “Hello?”

“Hey Diane, it’s Em. Thank God you’re home! I have a big, big favor to ask.”

“Yeah, honey? What’s that? You sound upset.” Diane was from the South, born and raised. Along with her slight drawl, she called everyone ‘honey’, a real giveaway.

“Well, I’m going to be out of town for a couple of weeks and I was wondering if you could take care of Ralph while I’m gone.”

“Ralph? Oh, you mean your kitty cat. Sure thing, honey. He’s no trouble at all, but if you’re gonna to be gone for a couple a weeks, I should probably bring his supplies on over here, instead of leavin him up in there all by his little self. He’s gonna miss his mama, bless his heart.”

“Thanks, Diane. That’s perfect. Can you come and get him?’

“Sure, honey. When’d you want me to stop on by?”

“Well, now would be a good time.”

“Ya mean, right now?”

“Yeah, right now, I don’t have much time.” She looked at the clock. She had already wasted ten minutes. “I hope you can come and get him now. I promise I’ll make this up to you when I get back, Diane.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Emily? You sound mighty upset.”

“I’ll be just fine when I know Ralphie is in good hands.” She carried the phone under her chin and pulled a small suitcase out of the closet. She lifted it up on the bed and opened it.

“Well, okay then, dear. I’ll be right on over. Have his things ready, and I’ll see ya in a minute.” The phone disconnected just before the words passed through Emily’s lips, “Bye…”

She looked utterly confused as she rifled through her dresser drawers trying to decide what to take. Jeans. Shorts. Sweatshirt. Thong? No! She kept grabbing onto something else as she dug in the drawer only to grab hold of it, then leave it lying there.

Since this trip was going to the northern woods, it would be warm during the day, but it could be cool or even cold at night. It might even rain for two weeks straight. What the hell! How do you pack for that in one suitcase?

She took the jeans, a couple of sweaters, underwear, a couple of concert t-shirts, a pair of sneakers, and stuffed all of it into the suitcase. Next she needed her deodorant, so he headed for the bathroom with a small plastic carry bag.

The bathroom was a mess, towels draped over everything. Dirty clothes, q-tips, powders, creams, and used tissues with traces of makeup were strewn everywhere. “Mental note to self… clean the fuckin’ bathroom if you live through this,” she muttered to herself.