Chapter 4: Creatures of the Night

Harlow

"Werewolves," I repeated Bonnie's last word. My gaze went from Red to Cyrus to Blayze and then to the dozen or so naked men and women standing around me as if this was just any other Sunday night.

This wasn't happening. I must have gone completely insane. I winced as Bonnie put pressure on the wound on the back of my head.

"Werewolves," she said again. "But you've got nothing to worry about. We don't hurt anyone who's not a threat to us. You're not a threat to us, right?" She stepped back around into my field of vision.

I shook my head vigorously. "I'm not. I'll get out of here and never come back. I won't tell anyone about this, I swear."

"Not without a car, you won't," Cyrus said. "That'll take another day."

"I can hitchhike."

"Don't be silly," Bonnie said. "You've got a nasty gash on your head. You need stitches."

"No!" I pleaded. "No doctors. No paperwork."

"Relax," she said. "One of my guys can get you fixed up. You can stay on my couch tonight. My trailer's just behind the bar."

"I—" I started.

"I insist." Bonnie turned to Cyrus. "You take care of the bodies and that car," she ordered, motioning to the dead men's BMW. Then, glaring at Blayze, she said, "And you do me a favor and go f*ck yourself."

Blayze chuckled a little as he sauntered, bare-a**ed, back to his garage with his cut slung over his arm. As he walked away, I noticed a tattoo on his shoulder blade that stood out from the rest covering his back. In ornate letters was the name "Bonnie."

"Hey Brat," Red called. A young, petite woman with short bleach-blonde hair poked her head out of the bar. "Get Stitch and tell him to bring his kit over to Bonnie's place." She nodded and ran around behind the building.

"Come on," Bonnie said, guiding me away. "Let's get you cleaned up."

I realized I was still draped in Cyrus' cut, but when I turned to look at him, he was carrying the bodies across the street, one under each arm. Shivering, I wrapped the leather tighter around me.

I was still in disbelief as Bonnie led me behind the bar and down a hill. As we walked, I saw that we were headed for a small trailer park.

"Mine's this first one here," Bonnie said as we neared a teal and white trailer with a little white trellis porch.

As we entered, Bonnie sat me down on a plush black couch right by the door while she grabbed a robe and put it over her naked form. The interior looked like something from the 1950s. The kitchenette across from the couch contained a checkered floor and a chrome and red vinyl breakfast nook.

"Knock knock." I looked up to see a middle-aged guy. A little pudgy with graying hair and a beard.

"Stitch," Bonnie said. "This is Harlow. She needs your handiwork." To me, she explained, "Stitch was a medic in the Army." Bonnie parted my hair in the back to show him where my head had met the pavement.

The Stitch guy let out a low whistle. "That's some laceration you got there. But no worries, I can fix ya up right as rain."

"I, uh, appreciate it," I responded, " but I don't have insurance or anything."

"Oh, sweetheart," Stitch laughed. "This is club business. Alpha Black tells me to patch 'em up, and I patch 'em up. No charge."

Alpha… More wolf talk. Alpha Bonnie Black and the Blood Dogs. Seriously, this night was getting weirder and weirder.

Cyrus

After more reaming from Blayze, I buried the bodies deep in the desert. I'd tow the BMW to the junkyard the next day and get the thing torn apart and crushed.

I grabbed my coveralls from the shop and put them on so I wasn't walking around naked, then drove my bike back home to get some shut-eye.

As I collapsed onto my bed, I thought of Harlow. I knew the Blood Dogs wouldn't do her any harm. They were the enemy, but Bonnie and her bunch were all about helping people in trouble. Especially women.

The next day I'd get her car fixed, and she'd probably be on her way. Like she'd never come through in the first place. But there was something about her that I couldn't get out of my head no matter how hard I tried to force myself to go to sleep.

It wasn't her beauty. Though that was obvious to anyone with functioning eyes. Her taste in cars was pretty bada**, and the fact that she knew what an alternator was impressed me. But that wasn't what drew me to her. In reality, the thing I kept thinking about was how beneath the tough front she put up, Harlow seemed like she was looking for something she'd lost. Or maybe something she was running away from.

After another hour of sleeplessness, I sat up. "Screw it."

I knew what I was about to do was stupid. Crossing into Blood Dogs territory could result in being shot and killed, but for some reason, I was willing to take the risk. I pulled on a fresh T-shirt and jeans with my boots, walked out the door, and hopped on my bike, heading back toward Gnaw Bone. To Bonnie's trailer.

Harlow

After Stitch left, Bonnie set me up with blankets and a pillow on her couch. I was exhausted. It didn't take me long to drift off to sleep and into a dream. Those days, I tended to have the same dream every night. But it wasn't so much a dream as replays of the past…

I saw the image of my father's hands over mine, showing me where ten and two were on the steering wheel even though I could barely see over it. Then teaching me how to use his switchblade. Then how to break into and hotwire a car. Next, I saw flashing police lights as I hid in a darkened closet while heavy footsteps ran by. And a gunshot. "Run. Now," my father's voice instructed me. "Don't stop moving."

I woke in a cold sweat. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was. Gaining my bearings, I looked over to the digital clock on the oven. 3:50 AM. Cyrus's Bone Hills Howlers cut was lying across me like a security blanket. I let out a sigh. In a few hours, I'd find out how much my car would cost me to fix. I would either be able to afford it or I wouldn't. And I'd either drive out of Gnaw Bone, New Mexico, or…or what?

I was startled by the sound of tapping on the window behind me. I turned around to see… "Cyrus?" Quietly, I slipped out onto the small porch, bringing Cyrus's cut with me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Aren't you, like, rivals? You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

"Technically," he responded, his dark eyes gentle. "But I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And to say I'm sorry for dragging you into all of this. I don't know where you're from or where you're going. But this is a lot for anyone to deal with."

"I should be thanking you for stepping in when you did," I said. "And you didn't scare me. I mean, at first, you did, but...just thank you." I looked down at his cut in my hands. "Oh, you probably want this back."

He took it with a smile. Suddenly the lights in Bonnie's trailer flicked on. When I turned, she was peering at us through the window, hair wild and yesterday's makeup smudged on her face.

"What the hell!" she yelled. "Cyrus Alvarez, I will shoot you! You can't be here!"

"I know!" he replied. "I'm sorry, I'll get out of your territory. I was just getting my cut back," he held it up in his hands.

Bonnie didn't seem to buy his excuse but let him off, pointing sternly to his bike. He hurried over, giving me one last smile as he put on his helmet and drove off.

Bonnie sighed when I came back inside. "You want some coffee? I'm a bit of a night owl."

"That'd be great. Thanks," I said as I slid into the breakfast nook.

"So, where's the road taking you?" Bonnie asked once she'd filled us both cups of strong, black coffee. "I mean after your car's fixed?"

"Actually," I said, "I'm probably going to need to earn some money to pay for the repair. You don't happen to need an extra hand at the bar, do you?"