“Where’s Wrex?” I asked, half afraid.
“Who’s asking? Oh, you that young naked girl Wrex dragged in last night?”
“Yeah, guess so. I need to talk to him.”
“You changed yet?”
“Changed?” I glanced down at the horrible black dress I had on. Didn’t look too different than what she wore, but she also wore a cut.
“Wrex is hurting right now. Be best if you’ve changed already.”
“I put on these clothes earlier. Papa found them for me.”
She talked to a man at the bar, a big beer bellied man who looked like the poster boy for bikers. His head bald and wrapped in a black bandana, he twisted his grey beard that hung in a braid almost to the floor. “Tom, we’ve got a code pink. Spread the word.”
Her nametag read Nala. “Nala, what does that mean?”
Her shoulders went up as she wiped a glass. “My mom liked the Lion King. She had a cruel sense of humor.”
“Not your name, a code pink.”
She poured a beer into the glass. A biker came out of nowhere to retrieve it. Clean shaven, he had five knives strapped across his chest.
Nala answered me, “You’re a babe. You don’t know our ways.”
I rolled my eyes. I could care less about their biker ways.
As she said those words, the man’s eyes met mine. They looked a lot like Nala’s, pale but green against his dark skin. He leaned in close and inhaled, sniffing me like a dog. Locking eyes with Nala, he jutted his chin toward the big bellied man before walking away.
Nala declared, “Tom will escort you to Wrex. Won’t you, Tom?”
Reluctantly, the big bellied man got up from the bar. He didn’t speak a word to me either, but I followed him. He took me to a warehouse.
At the door, another biker, clearly the bouncer, questioned him about me. “Tonight’s for members and approved guests only,” he explained.
“Wizard gave the all clear,” was all the big biker had to say.
The bouncer stepped aside.
Inside the atmosphere was similar to the clubhouse, dim, smelly, loud as all get out and filled with mostly bikers and their half naked counterparts. But there was a larger, rowdier crowd here, exchanging money. What were they betting on?
In the murky light, Tom disappeared amongst the other leather clad men and women. I supposed Wrex was here somewhere. I searched for him for a minute with no luck. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could miss. Noticing there was no bar, just plenty of coolers filled with beer and other beverages, I felt parched. The drinks looked free, so I grabbed a water bottle and chugged it. Hungover, nausea reared its ugly head. I scanned the place for a bathroom, but it was too late. Spying a trash can, I rushed to it just in time. I lost my breakfast. Many around me seemed to take notice, holding their nose and cussing. Another beautiful woman appeared, handing me a ginger ale. “Here. Name’s Router. You okay, honey? Looking for someone?”
“Wrex,” I replied before I sipped the soda.
“He’s over there.” She pointed to a crowd surrounding a ring.
“Thanks.”
“I’m going to get rid of this.” She tied up the trash bag.
I wiggled in and pushed myself closer until I was against the bars, a metal barrier, to see two large cats. A biker stood between him with a whip. There was a fucking circus in here, as a smallish black and silver leopard and an honest to god tiger rounded each other. A bell rang, the ring master stepped back, jumping the gate. The cats clashed.
The crowd spurred them on, cheering for one or another. It was like a cock fight, which I’d had the unfortunate opportunity to attend before with a high school boyfriend, but with large jungle cats. Unlike the fight last night in the parking lot of the hotel, this battle seemed tame. Like fake wrestling compared to real boxing. The felines battled but not to the death, more for a show of strength. The crowd really got into it, whistling and hollering. When it was clear the leopard won, he roared in triumph with the applause of the crowd. The tiger slinked away, his tail between his legs. Another challenger appeared, the motherfucking colossal lion from the night before.
My knees felt weak.
All this time Wrex had known about this lion, that it was in fact real. My mind ran through so many possibilities and settled on wondering if this club dealt in illegal breeding and trading of these wild animals. Made me think of that crazy, meth eating, gun toting, homosexual, redneck, polygamist with a mullet in Oklahoma, John Exotic, or something. Imagining a whole club of freaks like him made me shutter.
In sharp contrast to the previous fight, there was no circling. Before the man in the ring could give the go ahead, the lion flew into action, attacked and in no time pinned the leopard. The lion roared about his swift victory, the vibrations rattling the rafters, but no applause sounded. The crowd fell silent. Everyone was on edge, afraid the fight was just beginning to get real.
What happened next was akin to a dream. Men started pulling off their vests to enter the ring to stop the lion from going any further. One of them had a rifle and shot at the dirt beside
