Uncaged (4 page)

“I can manage.”

“Late-season snow coming.”

“Then the slush would freeze wouldn’t it? I’ve got chains.”

“If you get snowed in, there’s nowhere in town to stay.”

“I’ll think of somethi—”

“Miss Killgaren?” A younger, much grouchier male voice boomed through the phone. “Why can’t you take a hint? There’ll be no interview. I don’t want to talk. Don’t bother making the six-hour drive from Sioux Falls. You’re wasting your time.”

Her heart pounded. “Is this Mitchell Waya? I’m not in Sioux Falls. Today, I’m in Pierre. I can be in Los Lobos this afternoon. All I want is a few minutes of your time, please. It would mean a lot.”

“I don’t see the point.”

“Meet with me and you might see the point.”

“I’m sorry, Miss, I don’t want to be rude….” He sounded contrite. “I don’t do interviews anymore. Please stop calling.”

The call ended. It took a moment for her to fully grasp that Mitchell had cut her off cold.

Internal alarm bells went off as the sad realization struck—she’d miscalculated and picked the wrong cover. Obviously, Mitchell didn’t appreciate being cornered by the media he’d once mastered to advantage. Even the offer of sympathetic treatment and a chance to tell his side of events meant nothing. Her one opportunity to get close just blew up in her face. A sickening feeling she’d provoked his flight, and he might be packing his bags this minute, nagged. She had to reach Los Lobos before he fled. The clock ticked and the race started. She grabbed her monster tote bag containing everything she might need to survive a zombie apocalypse and ran downstairs.

“Mom!” she hollered, her voice echoing through the semi-restored clapboard home. “I’m heading out. I’ll call from the road.”

Mara rushed over to give her a hug. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“I have to.”

“Be careful.”

“I know, Mom. Try to relax. Reverend Simon is in prison now, and that’s where he’s going to—”

“Christy, I still panic every time you leave my sight,” Mara whispered, so the contractor in the next room wouldn’t overhear. “It’s getting better, but I often wonder, what if we didn’t fight that day? What if I’d reached you sooner? Reverend Simon never would have seen you at the damn convenience store and helped himself to my daughter. I still have nightmares about—”

Raising her palm. “Please don’t. We can’t change the past. I love you. Remember we’re not the guilty ones.” It did hurt to think about it. Six years ago, when she was twelve, she and her mom had fought over some long-forgotten and petty thing. In a huff, she’d marched away from home and hid around the corner, near a convenience store. She sat near the main drag for a couple of hours, angry as a wet cat, listening to her mother call her name while not answering. As darkness fell, she considered returning home when a man driving an SUV asked if she’d seen a lost dog. She’d not seen any strays, and said so, but the man insisted on showing her a picture anyway. As she bent to look at the offered photograph, a rag soaked in chloroform clamped over her nose.

A hint of a brave smile warmed Mara’s face. “Call whenever you stop, when you get there, and when you leave for home.”

“I promise.” She headed for the door.

Her mother had a point, and she understood her concerns, but sometimes it was too much. More than anything she wanted to be normal and do the things other people enjoyed. She didn’t want to be the poor little girl from the Reverend Simon scandal anymore.

Mara gazed into her eyes. “Did you check your can of Mace? Have you charged your Taser?”

“Yep.” She leaned close, delivering a quick peck on the cheek “Bye, Mom.”

***

Mitchell loitered near the front door of Gee’s Bar. The call from Miss Killgaren upset him. Los Lobos should his new sanctuary, a place so inaccessible and pointless no one would go out of their way to visit. So, how did the media find him? He’d been discreet. Only one trusted soul outside the pack knew his whereabouts. Once Drew discovered this breach, all hell would break loose. Day one, he’d been warned pack exposure must be avoided at all cost. He considered loading his pickup with a few essentials and leaving town before an angry Enforcer threw him out.

He’d been as rude as he dared to the honey-voiced Miss Killgaren. With luck, he’d never hear from her again. Something about the woman’s tone left him rattled. A soul-numbing, sense of emptiness opened inside. He needed to think and didn’t want to stay at Gee’s Bar to socialize with pack, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to go upstairs to his rented room to be alone.

For a moment, he considered heading over to Galveston’s Gym to pummel his tensions away on the punching bag. A fellow MMA fighter, Ravage Galveston had slipped into the role of confidant-mentor with ease. During his first days back in the gym, even light training caused searing pain. But Ravage had challenged him and pushed him through those first crucial workouts. His strength and balance improved every day. Using the cane became optional. His injuries, which would have shattered a human life, merely slowed the Wolf in him. In the past month, he’d put on so much muscle Ravage predicted he’d make a full recovery by summer.

Gee stacked beer mugs behind the bar.

Mitchell took cautious steps toward the bar without leaning on the cane. Though his legs were strong, his knees were still tricky. He stopped in front of his hulking friend. “Gee, have you told Drew about Miss Killgaren?”

Gee thrust out his lower lip. “No, I was waiting to see how you handled it.”

“I swear to God, I don’t know how she found me.”

He polished a mug with a cloth. “She found you. It doesn’t matter how. I doubt she’ll make it all the way out here, but if she does, we have a problem.”

“I just settled in. I don’t want problems.”

Gee grunted. “Pack privacy comes first, my friend, and right now, you’re high-profile. Unless you want to piss Ryker off and spend a few more months in traction, I’d volunteer to hit the road now.”

“But then wouldn’t Miss Killgaren hang around Los Lobos, looking for me and asking questions and possibly filming town? Think about it. Bad could get much worse. I do know something about the media. If you blow them off, it goes sour fast. They make up their own story. But if you throw them a bone, it’s possible to take control of the situation.”

Wagging a thick finger, Gee frowned. “We don’t need a snoopy interviewer here.”

“I’m not saying invite her, but if she shows up, we have to be ready. Warn everyone before they walk into Gee’s Bar. Maybe I can distract her? Drive her out of town? Set a false trail and say I’m moving out of state, give her a fake address to chase.”

“Sounds like a fuckup in the making.”

“No.” He tapped his cane. “Acting furtive and insisting no one can be filmed or talk to the media under pain of death is what rouses suspicion. If we’re not careful, I’ll become a footnote to the bigger story of the paranoid mountain town of Los Lobos. Trust me, that’s not what you want. I say play it down. I’ll give her a weak story and bore her to tears. Then we get rid of her as fast as we can before she sees or hears something damning.”

Gee appeared to consider the plan. His heavy head slumped to his shoulders. “Nope. I don’t like it. It’s a shit pie of an idea with trouble baked into the crust.”

“What? That’s all I’ve got!”

With an impatient swish of his big hand, Gee mumbled, “Go.”

“You mean leave the pack?”

“I meant take a run. Go off by yourself for a while. Let me handle this. Stay away until nightfall. By then, Miss Killgaren will have moved on.”

“Bear knows best.” Wanting to stay, he forced himself to walk to the edge of town. When he reached the tree line, he limped into the woods and stripped his clothes away. He left everything in a neat pile with the cane set atop the stack. Cold air prickled his bare skin. Glancing at his torso, he noted the many scars crisscrossing his body were fading fast. He shifted to wolf form then ran into the hills. The exhilarating sensation of blood pumping through his body always thrilled his senses. Though his bones were still healing, balance on four legs made movement easier, almost graceful.

He hoped Miss Killgaren would go away and allow him to live in peace with the pack. The town of Los Lobos had experienced a major change. Once a place of oppression, it had evolved into a shifter’s paradise. In a heroic deed, the new Alpha, Drew Tao, killed the old tyrant Magnum Tao. With Magnum gone, the pack had flourished. For the first time in a generation, a steady trickle of diaspora like himself returned. Something his outcast parents could only have dreamed of.

Running to near exhaustion, a dreary afternoon turned to evening. A northern storm blew in, halting the first signs of spring. With an aching hind leg, he trotted toward town and located his snow-dusted pile of clothing beside a tree. After dressing, he returned to Gee’s Bar. Being indoors again assaulted his senses. It took a moment to adjust. The explosive
clack
of a pool cue striking a ball deafened. People talked, laughed, and shouted above loud music. The warm scent of food hot from the grill made his stomach growl.

His cousin Rio hailed him from a booth. “Mitch!” Rio held his hand out, waiting for him to give it a friendly slap.

Sitting on the opposite side of the booth, Rio’s wife, Sela looked radiant and very pregnant. She offered a parade queen wave. “Hi, Mitchell.” Pointing to a heaped plate of onion rings, her eyes sparkled. “I made Rio drive me into town. I woke up from a nap with a hellacious craving for Gee’s onion rings. I ordered way too much. Would you like a few?”

His stomach made an embarrassing grumble. “Thanks anyway. I’m going to order my own food.”

Sela scooted across the seat to make room. “Sit with us.”

Mitchell remembered he needed to check in with Gee. “Another time.”

Rio nodded. “I understand. Visit us more often, okay? Promise me you won’t turn into a lone wolf.”

“I’ll come by the cabin soon to fix those kitchen cabinets.”

“Don’t wait too long.” Rio grinned. “We got a baby on the way. We won’t want noise and sawdust after the little one arrives.”

Sela rolled her eyes. “Five more weeks. I am so ready to sleep on my stomach again.”

Mitchell smiled at Sela. She smiled back, looking like an angel. “Rio, you bastard, how’d you get so lucky?” A little stab of envy pricked his heart. “I’ll let you get back to your onion rings.”

Cautious of his knee, he turned and walked away. Rio made a good point, he did need more social contact than he’d been getting. Hungry and exhausted, he approached the counter, leaning hard on the cane.

With his back turned to the bar, Gee fussed with the glassware. From this angle, he looked like a hunchback behemoth protecting a hoard of beer steins.

“Gee!” he shouted above Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride.”

Wearing a tense expression, Gee faced Mitchell and made a subtle slashing motion across his throat with his finger.

“Judging by your weird behavior, I take it things didn’t go well with Miss
Kill-Garden
, or whatever her name is? I feel sick about this. Tell Drew I’ll pack and be gone by morning.”

Gee shook his head.

Mitchell leaned over the bar. “What am I missing? Is something wrong?” He glanced toward the poolroom, seeing only the usual Saturday night pack chaos. “I’m starving. Tell you what, I’d kill for a steak, but I’ll settle for a burger.”

“I’ll buy you a steak.” A smoky female voice straight out of a luxury car commercial, floated over his shoulder.

If he’d been in wolf-form, his hackles would have raised—high.
The lady on the phone!
He’d returned to Gee’s Bar too soon and got busted. Glancing behind, he froze and stared in astonishment. The owner of the confident femme-fatal voice was a pretty, but down-to-earth-looking girl in her late teens. Her voice and petite body were a total mismatch. Judging by her demeanor on the phone, he’d pegged her as a worldly woman in her thirties, the type who wore heavy makeup and a jewel-toned power-suit. Instead, she dressed in casual denim and boots with so many rumpled layers of T-shirts and cardigans she looked like a hobo. Large hazel eyes beneath straight dark brows were her most outstanding features. The confidence of her direct gaze parried with a shy smile. For some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t breathe.

“Mitchell, meet Miss Killgaren.” Gee stood with his fists anchored to his hips. “She’s been here for hours, sitting in the corner. Waiting.”

“Hello, Mr. Waya. I won’t bother with the formality of a handshake.” Miss Killgaren glanced at the cane. “I definitely got the vibe I’m not welcome, so I’ll do everyone a favor and make this quick. I’d like to ask you a few questions, and then I’ll leave you in peace.”

He glanced at Gee.

Gee offered a faint nod.

“Okay, but let’s keep it brief.” He hoped he sounded more relaxed than he felt. His senses reeled and body tensed, the same way he felt before a match.

She pointed to the corner. “That’s the table I’m seated at.”

He allowed her to lead. “You have to have better things to do on a Saturday than sit in a place like this. Why are you here?”

Looking over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes. “You’ve been of interest to me for years.”

“You don’t look like the usual media contact. What’s this about?”

The slight crooked line of her mouth lent the impression she smiled and frowned at the same moment, and left him intrigued. He couldn’t figure out her intentions. Traveling the fight circuit, he’d grown accustomed to, even expected, women to offer themselves. With detached coolness, he accepted the boon or sent them away, knowing they weren’t really interested in him. They wanted the thrill of seducing a modern-day gladiator and sharing a taste of danger.

But not her. He sensed that wasn’t her objective. The encounter felt odd. As he moved closer, he noticed Miss Killgaren’s clean, natural scent did a number on him. Human women usually didn’t provoke such an immediate visceral reaction. She set him on fire, and she wasn’t even trying to flirt. On top of that, she didn’t appear to be offering him anything but a vague sense of confrontation.