Mate Not Wanted (6 page)

A whiff of blood slowly going stale wafted up to his nose and he groaned. He’d walked out of that bar still covered in blood and hadn’t even changed his clothes. All thoughts of seduction left his mind as he reminded himself of the attack and his reason for being there in the first place. Jake would call him later with an update on the man’s condition. An idea of possibly getting arrested for assaulting that asshole reared its ugly head. It wouldn’t do to be hauled out during the game. That would end up in bad publicity that the league didn’t need.

Pierce cursed himself for his poor judgment. He had to turn himself in, but he had to do it after the game. If he didn’t show up there would be talk and worry, and that was the last thing the Elemental League needed. He hit a button on his steering wheel and brought up his hands-free calling system.

“Call Al.” His friend Lt. Alistair Marshall-Weiss would be able to tell him what he was facing and take his statement without too much fanfare. That was the only upside to this.

The phone rang twice before Al answered. “Pierce, what can I do for you? I suppose you’re calling about the bar brawl?”

Pierce winced. He should have known that the news would’ve spread to the police already. “Yeah, look, can you take my statement after the game? I’ll turn myself in, whatever you want, but it just has to be after the game. I’m not trying to pull celebrity status or any bollocks like that, but if I get arrested now there will be talk and bad press and I don’t want that.”

The seconds ticked by as Pierce waited for an answer, praying that Al didn’t think he was bullshitting him. Their friendship was still new, even if they got on well with each other.

A roar of laughter burst through the speakers, catching Pierce unawares. “Oh God, I’m wiping away tears over here.” Al sniffled. “Priceless, absolutely priceless. You haven’t lived here long enough have you?”

Confusion made Pierce frown. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The guy you assaulted is Dave Cantrell. He’s a complete asshole, always assaulting or harassing someone. We have him in and out of lockup at least once a week, but because he’s from a well-off, politically connected family he gets off with only a slap on the wrist. Drives the district attorney crazy. As soon as we heard what happened we figured this might give us a break. We owe you a beer man.”

The words didn’t make any sense. They owed him a beer?

“Why?” he asked cautiously.

Al chuckled again. “Based from what we’ve heard, we think you’ve scared him absolutely shitless. We figure he won’t be harassing or assaulting anyone for quite some time. Besides, I doubt he’d press charges and the DA doesn’t want to pursue the case. We have better things to do with our time.” Al chuckled again. “Don’t sweat it. It’s all good, I assure you.”

It took a few moments for what Al was telling him to sink in.

“So, I’m not in trouble?” he said at last. Relief rolled over him. He may have caught a break here, but Madison wouldn’t be so easy to win over.

Al roared again. “Not unless you want to be. Besides, you have that bachelor auction to go to. I’m not gonna be the only bastard up there in a monkey suit selling myself for the kiddies, even if my mother is over the moon at my possibly finding a wife.”

Pierce grinned and chuckled. “They got you too?”

Al let out a pained groan. “Yeah. Did you get the list of requirements? We have to wear formal wear. Tuxes are a yes, not suits or business casual. Which means I can’t wear my jeans or cowboy boots. Hey, is Jess going?”

Pierce smirked. Al was sweet on Jessica and made it his mission to bump into his head chef whenever possible. The poor man had even come out to the house just to ask Jess if she could make cookies for his niece’s bake sale. He had offered to pay her, which she had refused to take, saying she had a recipe she’d been dying to try.

“I don’t know if she’s into bachelor auctions. She doesn’t even know that I’m going to do this one. I’ll ask her, OK?” Pierce resisted the urge to tease his friend.

The stadium came into site. Stress and excitement entered his body, and his thought patterns shifted into business mode. He’d need to call Matt for a change of clothes.

“Thanks, man. Look, gotta go. Don’t worry about the bar brawl. I’ll see you for poker this weekend? And can Jess make more of that cornbread and chili pie thing she made last time? I need the recipe, man. It’s addictive.”

“Yeah, sure, talk to you later.” Pierce hung up and called Matt, who assured him that he would have everything ready for him when he got up to the office.

Pierce flashed his badge at the security stop point and drove to the employee parking lot. He parked in his spot and headed straight into the building, flashing his badge to anyone who tried to stop him. Just because he was well known and the owner and founder of the game didn’t mean that he hadn’t put in security parameters for himself and everyone else who worked there. No matter who you were, everyone had to show off their employee ID badge to ensure that sneaky reporters didn’t manage to get back into an area they weren’t supposed to see.

Pierce ignored the shocked stares of his staff as he made his way to this office. To stop and explain would take too much time and energy.

Matt stood by his office holding up a new pair of jeans and a button-up shirt and sports jacket. Pierce waved away the jacket and kept the jeans and top. Thankfully, his assistant didn’t ask for details; instead, he just stepped aside and turned his back while Pierce stripped out of his clothes. Pierce went to his private bathroom and started to clean off the blood that had soaked through his shirt.

“Everyone is waiting for you, sir, and the owner’s box is all set up just the way you like it. Including Eddy. I couldn’t find out anything about his likes and dislikes. He seems to keep to himself. Even details of his career aren’t much to go on, so I had to guess. And the charity auction committee has sent a list of their requirements. I’ll send your tux to the cleaners and make arrangements for dinner after the auction at…Tanner’s?” Matt looked at him expectantly. “Table for two, sir?”

Pierce could only nod. “Yeah, sure. Just forward me the info so I can look over it.”

Pierce took in his features and naked torso to make sure he’d gotten every drop of blood off. Despite being in his late thirties he was still fit, his abdomen cut from long runs across the pitch. His arms weren’t overly muscular, but his biceps were large enough from all the workouts he did around the house.

He tried to get into the mind-set for game time. He had to make a small speech before the start. He hated public speaking and interviews, but they were part and parcel of this new venture. He wondered if news of the bar incident had reached the press yet. He knew that in this new age of technology and social networking the answer would be yes. He just hoped that didn’t put a damper on things and bias anyone against what he was trying to accomplish here. His staff didn’t deserve to suffer for his stupidity.

After drying his face, he got dressed and put everything into a small laundry bag that Matt had provided him. As he stepped out, he heard Matt speaking to someone and a deep reply in a booming voice that carried well, even from the outer office. A smile tugged his lips as he recognized Weston’s tone.

Pierce made his way out to the waiting area, handed off the bag to Matt with a thanks, and gave Weston a big bear hug. The man didn’t believe in shaking hands unless they were doing a business deal. To him, Pierce was practically family.

“How are you, Weston? I hope you won’t give me an ulcer worrying about your eating habits. Elizabeth would never forgive me if I gave you too much grease.”

Weston just laughed. “Don’t worry about Lizzie. She’ll be fine once I get home, and she’ll put me on a vegetable diet. Good God, you’d think I was a rabbit. ’Scuse me, Matty.”

They both looked at Matt, who blushed. “It’s OK, sir,” he managed.

“Anyway, how are you? Heard about that little scuffle at the bar. Bear shifter, huh? Always starting trouble, that Cantrell family.” He shook his head. “Everyone’s buzzing about it. Saved my Madison, which of course I’m grateful for. Can’t understand why Peter puts up with Dave in the least. If he were my boy I’d have shipped him off to military school and never looked on him again.” Weston pressed his lips into a straight line for a moment. “Peter did everything right by that boy and the ungrateful wretch practically spat all over him and the family.” Weston sighed. “Thankfully my Madison was nothing like that.”

“You know the Cantrells?” Pierce was curious as to how to use this information to his advantage.

Mr. Weston nodded, sadness in his eyes. “Knew Peter when he first came here to settle down in a para-friendly community. Good man. Too bad his wife died a few years later. Lovely woman really. Very kind. A pillar of the community. But that son of theirs.” He shook his head again. “Don’t know what’s wrong with him. Not in the least. Glad my Madison didn’t turn out that way. She’s fine, by the way. A bit angry that you didn’t let her rip the balls of the jerk, but what can we do? Can’t get everything we want, can we?”

Pierce smiled. “Nope, we can’t. Is, ah, has the press—?”

Weston grinned. “They know all right, but it won’t put a damper on things in the least. All of ’em know Cantrell and they hate him just as much as the police do. He’s rude, doesn’t give a shit, and frankly doesn’t care. Why should we? I can’t figure him out in the least. And to top it off, he’s a bear shifter. Maybe that’s the core of it, eh? Peter isn’t one but Lisa was. Maybe no one was there to help during the first shift?”

Pierce thought about that reasoning and could see the sense in it. If a shifter didn’t have a mentor—someone to help him during his first shift—there could be a whole lot of problems down the road, ranging from anger issues to confusion as to how approach potential mates. If the shifter in question was confused sexually, he could be more aggressive than usual in pursuing sexual conquests, feeling he had to dominate his chosen with size, speed, and strength.

Maybe he should have been feeling bad for Dave. But there was no time for that. Matt signaled to him that he had to go down onto the pitch.

Shaking off the feelings of pity, he focused on the task at hand. “Let’s leave that talk for later. Time for the game.”

He led Weston and Matt to the owner’s box where he left them and headed out to the pitch. He exchanged handshakes, hugs, and thumbs-up with players and staff, while members of the coaching staff and TV stations rushed around getting last-minute things done. He nodded to the two coaches and the referees and headed out to the platform that had been erected. With a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. His heart seemed to trying to make a break for it through his rib cage, and he tried to savor the rumble of the crowd as he strode toward the dais.

His palms broke out in a sweat as he climbed the stairs. Tension sang along his shoulders. He felt as if all eyes were on him, even more than when he’d played. At least then he could have lost himself in the game, but that was no longer possible. His thoughts traveled back to the pub and Madison. Was she watching him now? The flutter in his stomach turned into a storm as sweat drenched his shirt. He could only hope she was tuning in. Just the inkling that she could be sitting in front of a TV somewhere calmed him down, gave him strength.

He took a breath, stepped up to the mike, and began the rousing speech that he’d been reciting all week. He threw in how important it was for paranormals to have a sports outlet since the human leagues had decided to cast them aside. He talked about how paranormal talents should be nurtured and not ignored. Most importantly, he talked about how the competition should bring their community together, not divide them.

At least he thought that was what he was saying. For all he knew he could be speaking Martian. The noise coming from the crowd filled his ears and drowned out his words. At least their energy was up. The crowd cheered and the energy increased with each word. They became louder and louder until he was sure he would go deaf just from their screams and chants. A grin tugged on his lips and he pushed back a chuckle. All the cheers and positive energy only bolstered his.

He ended his speech and signaled for the game to begin. As he walked away, his heart stammered and his blood pressure increased. Anticipation grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. A longing filled his heart at not being able to be out there with the lads, running all over the place and scoring goals.

Sweat drenched his face again, not from nervousness but from excitement. The storm had calmed some, but it continued to rumble on occasion, adding to the already electrified atmosphere. For the first time all day, he felt at ease and sure of himself. This was going to work. Not “had to work.” Not “needed to work.” It
would
work. He’d done a good thing and they would be a success. Pierce had done his part, now the players would have to do theirs.

There was only one thing missing. Someone to share all this with. Someone who would understand all his emotions. Someone to go home with after it was all over. Madison.

Pierce growled and entered the owner’s box. No more thoughts like that. He admonished himself silently and joined Weston, Matt, Mack, and Eddy.

The men were so engrossed with what was going on outside of the window they barely noticed his arrival. Pierce sank down in a plush chair, accepted a proffered beer, and turned away the crisps. He wasn’t sure he could eat, not when the butterflies in his stomach were still flapping up a tornado. He focused on the action, which had started off at a fast pace. As soon as the first touch on the ball came it was like watching NASCAR racers, only more chaotic. By the time the ten-minute mark was hit they’d had two goals and three penalties.

Pierce focused on the announcer as he tried to follow the action on the field.

“Wow! Look at that! The goalie has used an Earth spell to raise up a mini cliff. Let’s see if that’s going to stop the Thunder Prowlers!”

Pierce groaned as he watched the mini cliff rise higher into the air until he was sure it would pierce the dome. Thankfully, it stopped just a few feet away. That didn’t stop the offense. One of the forwards partial-shifted into a ram and began butting the ball with his head back and forth with another forward. The opposing team’s goalie withdrew the cliff until it was only a bit of torn up dirt and grass. This time the goalie called up wind to keep the offense at bay.