City of a Lost Soul

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Chapter 3: Acts of Kindness (and Rage)
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Jadon began to think, taping his chin with his index finger while his palm closed around his chin. "I know this is a long shot, but I've got an idea. In my closet, I have one of those tacky, '90s style detective coats, the ones that are big and burly enough to hide the physique of its wearer. If it fits you, I can drive us down to the mall and take you to the Victoria's Secret outlet and buy you some comfortable street and home clothes." He looked at Safin, whose eyes began to droop. "Or maybe we can wait until the evening," he suggested. Safin gave a small nod, and passed out on the floor.

Jadon made his way over to the lioness and propped her on top of his right shoulder. He could feel her breasts resting on his back, and tried to quell any inappropriate images of Safin in his head. He had to admit, she was beautiful in her own way, but he didn't want to get too emotionally attached... not after what he had done to the last woman who showed him kindness. Dismissing this thought, Jadon made his way to his bed and covered Safin again with his sheets and comforter. He looked at the clock: 1 p.m. Guess I should go out and get some groceries, he thought, remembering the various wrappers and juices that were on his kitchen tiles.

Jadon walked outside to his car, a 2014 Cadillac ELR. It was painted a light green color, with darker green highlights along the length of the car doors, four in all. He had to admit, it was a pretty old car, but it was all he could afford when he bought it. He did make some modifications to it; Jadon gave the Chevy a battery that took twelve hours to charge, but afterwards would allow the car to go six-hundred miles without having to charge. He also gave it a new motor, one that would allow it to go sixty miles per hour continuously, something electric cars of his grandfather's generation weren't capable of doing.

Seating himself in, he fastened his seat-belt and drove to the local Wal-Mart, and purchased various items for himself and Safin: plenty of meats, some snack cakes, milk, bottled water (no more alcohol confusion, he thought), bread, fruits, and vegetables. All together, the haul cost $142.75, which he used his credit card to pay for.

Seeing as how he was still out and about, he decided to go and pick out Safin's clothes. He thought it over in his mind; a guy his age doesn't normally go to a women's clothing store and buys its merchandise; but he decided he would do it, right after a trip to the ATM. He used his credit card and withdrew $300, hoping that this would help him find the appropriate kinds of clothes Safin liked, or would like. He made his way to the mall, parked his car, and went inside to find the clothing apparel. It was on the other end of the store.

Maneuvering through the various paths of clothes, he managed to pick out a couple nice dresses for Safin: a lovely tan shirt she could wear; a black pair of jeans large enough for her figure; a red polo shirt with three buttons that opened at the neck; some long socks; several pairs of panties, some white and some black; and size eleven shoes, which he guessed was her foot size. All together, the apparel was $254.69. Boy, this girl's gonna run me into bankruptcy, but it'll all be worth it once we figure out this mess.

Putting the shopping bags in his backseat, Jadon made his way home. He looked at his transaction paper he got at the ATM and looked at the balance: $10,000. It wasn't bad for a bartender; tips from wealthy, and sometimes rough, patrons saw to that; but he felt as if he could do better. When he was young, he thought about opening his own restaurant, one that would serve comfort food to the public and make them as happy as he was when he cooked it: hush puppies; fried chicken; green beans; corn bread; everything that made people full and happy, no matter how tough his or her day had been. But, like most things in life, it was not to be, and sighed at his once so full-of-hope dream.

When he got back home, after plugging his car back in outside, he looked at the clock again. It was close to supper. He then thought about something: maybe he should take Safin out tonight to the bar he worked at. It would her get acquainted with other humans, and would give her a chance to wear her new clothes. The bar was usually dimly lit on Sundays; not many people came to the bar then; and since he was an employee, her could cook her a decent meal to show her that humans weren't so bad.

Jadon resolved that he would do just that: impress Safin with his culinary talents (which would come in the form of chicken wings and french fries), and hopefully earn her respect. He then got to work on putting away the groceries, putting the meats and beverages in the refrigerator (and hiding the beers he would have on his birthday), the bread in the drawers, and the snacks in the cabinets. He made his way to the couch and plopped himself down. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the television and began watching his programs. Around 8, he was became aware of a loud yawn coming from his room, as well as the sound of certain lioness's stomach growling. Time to get to work.
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Safin had seen the large pile of clothing neatly stacked in the bedroom, and she didn’t need telling for the umpteenth time not to walk around naked. It took her a little time to get dressed, evidently not familiar with all the undergarments and layers, but she managed all the same. Her tail gave her the biggest problem, and although not a perfect solution, she tucked it down the inside of one of her trouser legs. Her jeans fit, but only just, barely pulling around her hips. For the undergarments, she had put on a pair of black knickers and a matching black brassier, but she made the mistake of wearing a lighter top in the form of that tanned buttoned shirt. The darker undergarment and straps could ever so slightly be seen through the shirt, but naturally, Safin wasn’t aware of such mistake. In fact, she was pleasantly pleased with herself.

“Thanks for the clothes.” Safin said, genuinely grateful, fastening the last of her shirt buttons as she emerged.

Jadon acknowledged with a smile, and he told the lioness about his idea of taking her to the bar that he worked at, suggesting it would be a good way of integrating herself with society. Safin wasn’t so sure, but, as always, her curiosity got the better of her.

As luck would have it, his shift wasn’t until the evening, which would make it easier to hide his 6-foot tall lioness friend. Jadon fetched his large trench coat and fedora hat and gave them to Safin. She put them on, turning the collar up and tilting the hat forward so to cover her face and muzzle. “Hmm, this look suits me, don’t you think?”

“Sure does. You’d make a great detective, or city cop.” He joked.
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After loading both himself and Safin in his car, Jadon showed Safin how to put on a seat-belt. He reached around her right shoulder; his arm brushing across her covered breasts, which were noticeable enough in spite of the coat; grabbed the latch plate, and inserted it into the latch itself, forming a 3-point safety system. Safin's fur brushed against her seat, and said how the texture irritated her fur. Jadon made a mental note of it, and started his car. The engine gave a vvvvvrrrroooooommmm! noise, startling Safin. He assured her that it was natural, and that the 'baby elephant' wouldn't hurt her. He chuckled at his joke, making Safin herself laugh as well.

As they approached Jadon's place of employment, Safin noticed a green-neon sign that read: 'Good Spirits: a Place to Drink Your Troubles Away.'

"Jadon?" Safin asked. "Why does the name suggest that what lies inside isn't friendly?"

Jadon looked at Safin. "Don't worry, Miss Safin. Whatever's inside will not harm you. I will make sure of that." He winked to show that he promised he would, which made Safin blush for some reason, but he guessed because Safin turned her head away. After finding a spot in the employees' parking lot, Jadon turned off his car and took of his seat-belt. He got out of the car, went to Safin's side, and helped her undo hers. Something glinting under a street lamp made him momentarily stop breathing: a line of six motorcycles were parked side-by-side in a row. The bikes were painted custom colors of their owners' choosings.

Oh crap, Jadon thought.

"Is something wrong?" Safin asked, a small note of concern in her voice. Shaking his head, Jadon was brought back to reality, and tried to forget about the biker gang he knew to be inside. Gangs always liked to stay at bars on Sunday nights in New York City. It was almost like their hobby; they knew no one went to bars on Sunday; and he knew they enjoyed it. He just hoped they wouldn't notice his tall companion for the evening.

Jadon and Safin walked up to the door of the establishment. Even from outside, the smell of booze and food tickled their tenses. The food smelled delicious, but the booze caused Safin to turn away for a moment, take a breath, breathe out, and turn back around. Pushing the door open and keeping it open for Safin and himself, Jadon was glad was dimly lit. Even after working her for three years, Jadon was still getting used to hardly being able to see where he was to go. There were five simly-lit lightbulbs, one at each corner of the room and the table at the center. The lights provided almost the same amount of illumination a lizard light could give, but no more.

There were seven patrons inside, not including Jadon and Safin. There was already a bartender behind the counter, as well as three bikers at a northwest table, and three bikers at the table ten feet away to the right. Weird... Riess didn't tell me he was working tonight. Guess that means I'm free. Jadon walked Safin up to two bar stools and sat down. Jadon's seat fit him fine, but Safin, cursing under her breathe because of it, found difficulty positioning her rear on the seat so none of it kinda drooped on the side.

Reiss walked up to Jadon and Safin. He wore the typical bartender attire of New York. His hair was neatly comber, his clear glasses gave him a scholarly look, and he was preoccupied with cleaning a glass. He had two menus in his free hand and passed them to Safin and me. "Call me back when you're ready to order," he said, and walked away, still cleaning the glass.

I looked at my menu, and Safin looked at hers. "What do you think you'll get?" Jadon asked. "For me, I'm thinking of getting the chicken tender basket with fries." Safin continued looking at the menu with her green eyes. Jadon knew that cat's eyesight gave it exceptional night vision when it hunted, giving it a good view of the surroundings as well as its prey. For her prey, Safin said she would try the New York rib-eye. Reiss came back to the table, took our orders, and put the slips of paper in a turning order holder to be taken by the cook in the back room.

Safin tapped my shoulders and said, "I need to use the bathroom." Jadon pointed to the corner of the room, and Safin got up, smoothing out the trench coat as it had become a bit wrinkled from her sitting down. As she made her way to the bathroom, Jadon saw her approaching Paul "Pyro" Rodriguez, the leader of the biker group known as "Fuego." As his namesake, Paul had on the a black jacket with flames running up from the waist and onto the shoulders. He had on a pair of spiked, black boots, as well as gloves that had no covering for the knuckles. He was the typical biker leader: confident, strong, and not very friendly.

As Safin passed by, Paul spoke with a slight spanish accent, "I'll buy you a drink, chica," and proceeded to smack her behind, which Jadon heard from the bar. He turned around to see Safin staring at Paul straight in the eyes, acting defiant and resentful at his comment and action. "You got a nice ass, mamasita. Let's say we ditch this place and," he reached around her back with his hand and groped her left butt-cheek, "have a little fun, huh?" Safin was greatly overwhelmed at this. As he was enjoying the feeling, Paul didn't see Safin raise her hand, which was thankfully covered by a glove, and smack Paul right across the face and onto the table.

Jadon rushed over to Safin and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, feeling concern that this turned her against humans again.

"I'm fine," she said. "I didn't like when he tried to mate with me." Turning around, Jadon saw Paul haul himself up from the table and stared at Safin with great disdain and abhorrence. "You little punta! I'll kill you!" He began to rush at Safin, but Jadon quickly got between them, holding his hand up to Paul.

"Now, now, Rodriguez," Jadon began, trying to sound calm and agreeable, "do you really want to start a fight? You're drunk and your common sense is impaired. Let's just have you apologize to the lovely lady, and just walk away with no bruises." Paul smiled at Jadon and spoke, his tone mocking and unamused.

"Yeah, and what you gonna do about it, hombre? You're not even a warm-up for me, so why don't you just get outta here and let me teach this skank a lesson." With that, Paul clenched his fingers into a fist and punched Jadon square in his jaw, twisting his neck and causing a few cracks to be heard. Safin gasped and covered her mouth, causing herself to back away to the table next to her, staring in horror at Paul whose fist was still contacting with Jadon's cheek.

Finally, Paul began to retract his fist from its strike, only to have it grabbed by Jadon's hand, which had struck out and was now grabbing Paul's fist. He slowly turned his head back around, so that his eyes were now facing Paul's. As Safin looked at Jadon's face, she noticed something very alarming: Jadon's eyes, which previously had a brown iris, now began to glow red, and his voice had become threatening and deep, with a slight dry humor to it. Surprisingly, Jadon's skin did not turn into another color; his skin stayed the same.

"Nice punch, buddy," Jadon spoke. But he and Safin knew who was actually speaking. Anger. "However," Anger tightened his grip on Paul's fist, causing more sounds of bones cracking to be heard, causing Paul to get onto his knees, "I'll show you how a real punch is supposed to feel like." Jadon, in his subconscious realm, stared through another person's eyes, Anger's, looked to the side at Safin and pleaded to her, Please... look away and run back to the apartment... please. Leave me here.
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Paul’s gang of misfit bikers quickly came to his aid, and before anyone knew it, there was a regular barroom brawl on everyone’s hands. Some of the members had knives drawn out from their pockets for the offensive, while others just ran at Anger with their fists being their only means of pain infliction.

Anger showed Paul how a real punch was thrown, with a heaving uppercut to his sternum. He hit him so hard that he lifted the heavy biker momentarily into the air, and the audible cracks that were heard must have been a rib or two being broken.

Two of the bikers jumped Anger and the whole lot of them went crashing into a pool table, sending the billiard balls flying, hitting one gang member square in the face, the sound of nose cartilage being broken filling the air. Another two biker men assaulted Safin, one pinning her against the wall whilst the other went to grab weapons in the form of barroom objects; pool cues, chairs, and bottles. The last biker, a female, went to Paul’s aid, assumingly his girlfriend.

The more violent the fight; the more punches that were thrown; the more bottles that were smashed, etc.; The more Anger grew in strength and malice. It was like pain and carnage fueled his aggression. His pupils had dilated from seeing the kind of pain he was inflicting, causing him to release a sigh of satisfaction. It's good to see so many stubborn men realize the truth, he said. Anger wasted no time in incapacitating two bikers with minimal effort, the first being skewered through the gut with a pool cue, and the other having his throat sliced by the broken end of a beer bottle another man had tried to use against the assailant.

Safin was having a bit more trouble with her assailants, ably thrusting one biker head first into a darts board, but the other, the far more burlier and heavy-weight of the two, had delivered a thunderous hay-maker to her ribs. Safin fell to her knees, coughing and gasping for air as a result of being winded. The big biker then flicked open a butterfly knife, and was about to thrust it into her back when Anger tackled the hairy biker to the ground. Like a madman possessed, Anger continued to pummel the bikers face with his fists almost like he was a gorilla, until his knuckles, although black, were red-raw, and the bikers face was little more than a bloodied pulp, with bits of broken floor boards around the body. The lead biker, still reeling, was ushered out the door by his girl. The sound of tires squealing and overly-revved engines could be heard as they hastily fled.

Safin did rest though. She recognized this... ‘thing’ from before, back at the lab. She backed up against the wall, staggering as she moved. “Listen buster, I appreciate you dealing with those creeps, but you can just hold it there.” Safin warned, not wanting a repeat of the last time these two met.

Anger just smiled at her. His peering red eyes unnerving her…
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