I regretted my decision to walk home before I had gotten more than two streets away from the bar. It wasn’t that far a walk, but I was a bit wobbly on my feet from having danced for so long. I’d used muscles I didn’t realize I’d been under-utilizing. It was perhaps time to take up a more comprehensive work-out program.
Thankfully, the night air was cool and helped clear my head. If my earlier shadow sparring had been like unfulfilled sex, then the last few hours were akin to the ultimate orgasm. All my limbs felt loose and languid. I was going to be sore in the morning, but for now I was euphoric.
My euphoria was short-lived. I was passing the high school football field when a red pickup truck skidded to a halt at the corner of the side street in front of me. Kurt and several friends hopped out of the cab, nasty smiles aimed in my direction. All of them sported variations on the “biker tough” look – lots of leather, chains, and tattoos.
“Well, lookie what we have here,” one of his friends laughed. “Nice hair. Does the carpet match the drapes, I wonder?”
All four men laughed, menace and lust pouring off them in waves thick enough to drown in.
Can you get any more childish? I thought irritably. My entire body went into high alert for the second time that day. I had wanted this level of heightened awareness in my shadow-match, but there were too many variables here, too many chances for somebody to get seriously hurt. Relaxing back into a fighting stance, I let them come to me while I examined my surroundings for anything to help me if things got ugly.
“Too good to dance with me, but you spent the entire night with that God-cursed freak,” Kurt spat as he advanced toward me, his hands clenched into fists.