Trent knew they'd be trouble the second he and Jenny stepped into the club. Four men. Leather jackets. Dew rags and aviator glasses. And the way they stared him down...like they owned the whole damn world. When Trent started dancing, people would be intimidated. The four men would feel threatend. The night could only end in bloodshed.
But Jenny wanted to dance. And Trent wanted to dance. Hell...dancing was the only thing Trent was ever any good at. Well...that and racing in his tricked out DeLorian...and Kung Fu. After punching the heart out of Lao the Merciless, Trent had inherited the Chi of the Seven Dragons. So yes...Trent was also good at Kung Fu.
But that wasn't important. It was time to dance and dance hard. And so they did.
And the four men just watched.
Jenny had a great time. And so did Trent. Driving home they felt invincible. With the windows of Trent's Delorian rolled all the way down and Tears for Fears blaring from the radio, nothing could stop them. Nothing that is, until Jenny turned off the radio.
"Trent honey...you were great tonight."
"Thanks Jen, you too."
An uneasy silence hung in the cabin of Trent's stainless steel chariot.
"What's up baby?"
Then Jenny said it.
"It's just...is this all there is? We need to talk about us Trent."
White hot light shot through Trent's head. It was sharp...painful. Something was wrong. Jenny was still next to him. He could see the the twin yellow lines of the road ahead. But his mind was eslewhere. He could see faces. Dew rags and aviator glasses. Leather jackets. The four men.
They were following him. On motorcycles. Trent could feel it.
"Yeah babe...we gotta talk. Right after some unfinished business."
...to be continued?
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