Uncaged (5 page)

A soft expression lit her face. “I’m a fan.”

His chest tightened. Dizzy and nervous, he didn’t feel right and wondered if shifting and running around all day in the cold might be the culprit for the odd sensations. “We can talk, but I have to eat first.”

“Me, too. I drank about a dozen cups of coffee instead of a real lunch today.” She extended a trembling hand as proof of the jitters. “I’m ready to order some food.”

She pointed at Gee. “Is he always so sarcastic?”

Mitchell nodded. “Always.”

“And you put up with it?”

He couldn’t stop staring at the delicate lines of her face. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

A crooked grin crossed her lips. “Well, you just answered my first question, which was, why would a man who’s lived the fast-track international lifestyle hide in Los Lobos? Seriously, there’s not much here.”

“The only answer I can give you is it’s quiet, but I’m leaving here.”

“For where?”

“Someplace quieter.” Inspired to be a gentleman, he pulled out a chair and waited for her to sit. “By the way, Gee’s Bar isn’t a steak type of place. I hope you won’t be disappointed with a burger and fries.”

“A burger would be fine.”

“Gee!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Two cheeseburgers and fries.”

“No cheese on mine,” she added. “I’ll pay. I appreciate you taking the time to sit down with me.”

He shook his head. “Gee will put cheese on it anyway. In his mind, a hamburger comes with cheese. I’ve tried asking him to leave the cheese off mine, but he won’t do it. He’s an eccentric. I used to peel it away, now I just eat it.”

“Okay.”

“The burgers are on me. I’ve got a tab here, and I rent a room upstairs.”

“Here?” She appeared scandalized. “You live above a bar? I figured you owned a trophy home somewhere nearby.”

Settling into his chair. “Nope.”

“This place looks rowdy. It must be hard to sleep.”

How could he explain the
clack
of pool cues and blaring music filtering through the floorboards were pleasant alternatives to the angry voice in his head telling him he was a worthless jerk. “I don’t mind.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she glanced around. “So, the Tex Wilkins story is true? You really are broke?”

“Disappointed? You sure don’t look like a gold digger.”

She didn’t skip a beat. A spark of compassion shone in her eyes. “You deserve better.”

Her words sounded convincing as if she did care. He took a long look at her. Even a half-dozen layers of frumpy clothes didn’t obliterate a graceful frame and hint of soft curves. Tons of wild auburn hair tumbled in waves around her face. Her lush lips sent conflicting messages. A new terror entered his thoughts. He half feared she might be one of the women he’d hooked up with on the circuit and long forgotten, or didn’t recognize minus the heavy glamor makeup. He hoped to God he’d never messed with anyone this young. “Have we met?”

She seemed anxious, almost breathless. Her lips parted. “Once.”

Panic set in. “I am so sorry if I did or said anything to hurt your feelings or mislead you. During a chunk of my life, everything moved so fast it became a blur. I’m not proud of my promiscuous behavior, but I can’t say I regret it either. If I—”

Her jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

He gulped. “Have we…the two of us…you know?”

Her cheeks flushed. “No! Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to forget someone like you.”

Turning her face, she stared at the wall. “I made a big mistake approaching you this way.”

He threw his hands in the air. “I told you not to come. Don’t pretend to be shocked. I thought you wanted a where-is-he-now interview. The more horrid stuff dug up about me the better, am I right?”

A look of indignity flashed in her eyes. After fishing her hand into her tote bag, she retrieved a smartphone and toyed with the coral case. “I didn’t come all the way here to dig up more dirt. You already have enough out there.”

That stung. “For sure there’s enough bad news connected to my name. What do you want to hear? I thought you were some journalist from a television station, hoping to trap me in a gotcha moment when you announced something lurid like Tex Wilkins had been found strangled by a rope with my name on it. Tex deserves it, but just for the record, I’d never lay a hand on the sneaky bastard. I don’t give a shit about the money. He can keep it and rot in hell.” Narrowing his gaze. “You do look familiar. What’s going on? You’re not a journalist. You’re just a kid.”

“I am a student of journalism at Sioux Falls University.”

“Jeeze,” he huffed. “I think we’re finished.”

“Wait!” Her face became somber. “Just a couple more questions and I’ll go.”

“What’s the point?”

She appeared agitated, fidgeting with the phone case, picking at it with a manicured fingernail. “You say you don’t care about the money, but you sound, and look, pretty freaking angry when you talk about it.”

“Working the circuit ain’t for wimps. It’s a hard way to earn money. You have to push yourself to do things you don’t want to do.”

“Like punish someone in the cage more than you’d ever choose to?”

“Something like that.” Most of the time, he took more punishment than necessary. Tex had a strategy to follow. It wasn’t enough to just win. Tex wanted what he called “controlled decimation,” but it had to be done a certain way. To keep the audience’s interest, they needed to be tricked into believing his opponent stood a chance. Tex’s strategy built on the pretense the match might not go his way by prolonging it. He didn’t mind taking his time. The Wolf in him guaranteed minimal risk of exhaustion or injury. Plus, when he fought, he felt fully alive.

With brows level, her expression appeared frank. “You suffered a couple close calls in the ring but no losses. What do you credit your success to?”

“I rode out a lucky streak.” In his weight class, he didn’t have an equal. There were a lot of big guys on the cage circuit, but they didn’t have his speed. There were a lot of fast fighters, but they didn’t have his focus. On demand, he could turn on the juice and connect with the force of a wrecking ball and then just vaporize. “For a while, Tex made us rich.”

“You mean Tex made himself richer. From my understanding, he’d made his fortune long before he ever signed you.”

“Wrong.” He knew an obnoxious shit-eating grin just hijacked his face, but it couldn’t be helped. “When Tex signed me, he was dead broke with repo men for lawn ornaments and a Mexican cartel making death threats. He needed a winner in his pocket, bad. The dude burned through money. My fondest consolation is Tex didn’t learn a thing. In no time, he’ll spend all he stole from me and be back in debt. I’m going to sit back and enjoy watching Queen Karma cut him to shreds.”

“Hold on a moment!” She scrolled downward on her phone and clicked. “I want to show you something that you just did.”

“What the hell!” He balked. “Were you filming me without my permission? Give me that!”

Watching the screen, she continued to scroll. “Calm down. I’ll let you delete it. Ah, there it is.” She clicked on a still and handed the phone to him. “I’ve seen the look before. Hit Play. Watch what happens to your eyes when you say ‘Queen Karma.’”

She leaped from the chair and stood at his side, looking over his shoulder at the screen. “See?” She sounded delighted. “Beautiful brown eyes. Nothing unusual. You do look peeved, and then
Bam!
The pupils detonate and flash amber like a flare. I saw it firsthand. Nothing in this room changed. The flash came from you.”

“So?” He deleted the video, taking heart that she couldn’t know anything concrete. Even Tex’s allegations were vague. He’d been so careful about never shifting on the circuit. For over three years, he’d lived in complete denial. Always holding back and remaining in control. Never revealing his true self to anyone or allowing the Wolf within to run loose. What she hinted at could be dangerous and put the whole pack at risk. With the welfare of others in mind, Ryker—their Enforcer—would make him disappear.

“See?” Standing behind him with her hand placed on his shoulder, she leaned so close her warm breath bathed his cheek. Reaching over him, she clicked onto a photo gallery and scrolled. “There you are at Emperor’s Palace.”

He stared the photo of himself kneeling over his doomed opponent with his fist raised, a millisecond away from delivering the life-changing blow. His eyes blazed amber. Covering the screen with his palm, he shoved it away. “Delete this crap. I don’t want to look at that.”

“Because it’s painful, or because you feel exposed?”

“It’s an ugly moment. I’m not proud of it.”

“Did Tex know about the avenging angel?”

He shuddered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tex figured out you were different, didn’t he? How could he miss the signs? Did he threaten you with blackmail? Mitchell, you’re not like the rest of us, are you? For example, you heal so fast. No injuries in the ring. Your car accident put you through the blender. You should be dead, but instead I overheard one of your friends boasting you can punch a speed bag for three hours a day. Who does that straight out of traction?”

“Who told you?”

“Some guy named Ravage.”

“Damn him.” Hell couldn’t be mad at Ravage; he counted the man a true friend. But the boast left him with some explaining to do. “Pin it on good genes or call it good luck. What’s your point?”

“My point is I think I know a little secret about you.”

Dreading exposure and the imminent flight, a gruff grunt crossed his lips. “What?”

Interrupting, Gee ambled to the table and set a heaped plate in front of her. “Here you are Miss Killgaren, Gee’s Bar’s best. Burger and fries with no cheese. Can I get you anything else?”

A hopeful grin crossed her lips. “Ranch dressing for my fries?”

Gee shook his head. “No ranch dressing. How about some pickle juice to dip your fries in? That’s all we got.”

Wrinkling her nose. “No, thanks. Ketchup will be fine.”

Thrusting his lower lip out. “Why does everyone ask for ranch dressing these days? Am I missing a trend?” He set a plate in front of him. “Here you go Mitch. Cheeseburger and fries the way you like it.” He turned and lumbered off.

He called after. “Gee, you didn’t even ask if I wanted pickle juice.”

Sounding grumpy. “I didn’t ask because I know you don’t.” Gee returned to the table with the ketchup. “Miss, it’s a Saturday night. We’ll soon be serving alcohol in this section. I’m going to have to see ID proving you’re over twenty-one, or ask you to leave.”

With a gentle bite, she worried her bottom lip. “I’m eighteen.”

“I’m sorry, but when you finish your food, you’ll have to go.” Gee glanced at his watch. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Mitchell rose from his seat. “Excuse me, Miss Killgaren. I’ll be right back.” He followed Gee and confronted him near the bar. “What the fuck, Gee? You allowed Ravage to speak to her?”

“I couldn’t stop him. Ravage walked in here, wearing his workout sweats, and Miss Killgaren approached him. She probably thought he was you. You know Ravage. He didn’t say much.”

“She just said she knew a secret about me. How ominous is that? I’m not going to force her to gulp her food down and leave before I know exactly what she’s talking about. I’m going to need to do a little damage control here. Let’s find out what she knows and what she plans to do with that knowledge before we turn her loose.”

Gee’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, I see your point, but make your investigation quick. Look around, amigo. The place is packed with ‘pack.’ Everyone is in town, socializing and drinking. It’s just a matter of when some poor fool gets tipsy, shifts, and does a little
Dances with Wolves
routine on top of a pool table. That little girl you’re breaking bread with is an outsider holding a camera phone. Add two and two, dude? It equals disaster!” He shoved a couple take-out containers into Mitchell’s hands. “If you’re wise, you’ll think of a way to get her out of here before she sees something she shouldn’t. The sooner, the better, because the new storm is dumping snow on the ground like a son of a bitch.”

“I’ll lead her off the main floor.” He grabbed the take-out containers. “Someday, I’m going to find out why a fucking bear is in charge of a wolf pack’s private business.”

Gee grinned. “It’s a fascinating story, quite heroic if I say so myself. Now shove off and encourage your pretty friend to leave ASAP.”

Mitchell returned to the table. Miss Killgaren looked pensive as her hand hovered over her fries. Picking one up in her delicate fingers, she swirled it in a puddle of ketchup and bit. Glancing at the take-out containers, she frowned. “Is that a hint?” She pushed her plate away. “This was a bad idea. I did this all wrong.”

She appeared angry, which made him feel worse. “You were starting to tell me something when Gee interrupted. You implied you knew a secret about me.”

Planting her palm on her forehead, she sighed. “I wish I hadn’t come here. I can see it’s causing problems.”

“I told you not to. I’ll bet it’s been a real disappointment to meet a washed-up cage fighter.”

A harsh laugh burst passed her lips. “I’m not disappointed in you. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. It’s stirring up a lot of weird feelings. To be honest, I didn’t even come here today to interview you.” She reached into her tote and pulled out a knit cap

“Then what is this about? Why did you come?”

Tucking her voluminous hair under a plain gray cap, she stood and donned a shapeless down coat. “I wanted to look you in the eye and say ‘thank you and good-bye.’”

Something in his memory clicked. With his thoughts racing, he froze. He knew her! His lips parted, but the words stuck.

“So, thank you, Mitchell. I’ll never forget you.”

Looking her over, he didn’t know where to focus. She’d been transformed. “Oh God!” His brain melted down while his heart did a happy dance. He’d always wondered what happened to the kid. She stood in front of him a beautiful, petulant woman. Before she could pull away, he grasped her wrist. “Christy?”