“No way,” Jared says. “You can’t put a high school baller in a fight. Coach Jamison will come down here and put our asses in a sling if the alpha doesn’t first.”
“How old are you?” Trey asks Bo, ignoring Jared.
“Eighteen.”
Trey shrugs. “He’s an adult. He can make his own decisions.” To Bo, he says, “You want to fight? If you win, it’ll pay at least ten thousand, maybe more, depending on how the bets go.”
“You think he can win?” Garrett asks doubtfully.
“It’s actually because he’s not full-sized yet, I think he can beat this guy. He’s still fast. Light on his feet.” He turns to Bo. “I have an asshole cat shifter who wants to fight. Bets will be on him because of your age and size.”
“Then you take the fucker down,” Jared tells Bo.
“Done.” Bo rolls his shoulders, looking every inch the badass.
“I-I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t want you risking yourself for—”
Bo holds up his hand. “It’s not a risk.” He lifts his shirt to show me the place he got shot last night. It’s completely healed. Hardly even a mark now.
I shake my head. “I still don’t like it.”
I don’t. But I am turned on that he’s willing to go in the ring for me. Very turned on.
Garrett stands, and the other two follow. “Step outside with me, Bo,” he commands.
Bo darts a glance at me as he follows the men out of the apartment and shuts the door.
I stand there and blink for a moment.
Then I rush to press my ear against the door.
* * *
Bo
I follow Garrett into the hallway, willing my heart rate to stay steady. Fate knows an alpha will smell fear all over you if you let it in.
Fuck.
“So.” Garrett folds his arms over his massive chest. “What are you going to do about the girl?”
I knew this was going to be about Sloane, even though I was praying to avoid the inevitable.
“She swore she’d take it to the grave,” I say quickly. Like a human’s promise means anything to these guys.
Garrett shakes his head slowly. “You know that’s not good enough.”
I want to argue with him. Garrett has a human for a mate. So do Trey and Jared, for that matter. Garrett was not cut from the same cloth as his father, other than being alpha enough to lead a pack. He and his friends were rebels. They were thrown out of our pack when they weren’t much older than I am, and they do things their own way here.
Still, that doesn’t mean he’s going to cut me any slack.
The rules are in place to protect shifters from exposure. If humans found out we existed, we’d be hunted down and exterminated as monsters.
I rack my brain, trying to think of something I can say—anything—to spare Sloane the fate I’m pretty sure they’re going to demand.
“Get her memory wiped tonight. It’s twenty-four hours. It shouldn’t have too bad an effect. I’ll text you the number of a guy who can do it.”
I shake my head. “We have to be back in Phoenix with the money by this evening.”
Garrett pins me with a hard stare. “Then you bring her back here afterward. You know the rules. Don’t fuck up.”
Shit. Fuck. Damn it all to hell.
I turn to go back in the apartment without being dismissed, but Garrett throws me up against the door with his hand at my throat.
“I need to hear a yes, sir.”
Dammit. I really don’t want to agree to having a vampire tamper with Sloane’s mind. It can cause problems, and she doesn’t deserve that kind of shit. But I don’t see any way around this direct order. “Yes, sir,” I choke.
He releases me. “Good.” He pulls a couple bills from his pocket. “You need money before the fight?” He’s a good alpha, aware of his pack members’ needs.
I’m not one to turn money down, so I take the twenties and shove them in my pocket. “Thanks, Garrett.”
He grunts, and the three start off down the hallway.
“Garrett?”
He turns.
“Are you going to tell your dad about this?”
He shakes his head. “My territory, my problem. You can decide for yourself what you want to tell your alpha.”
“Thanks.” I watch them walk away, feeling like a fifty pound weight is on my chest.
I don’t begrudge Garrett for doing what an alpha is supposed to do to keep our species safe—but fuck.
Wiping Sloane would be a mega-betrayal. I mean, fuck. Should I tell her it’s going to happen to minimize the fuck-over?
Is there any point when that conversation would be wiped, too?
Dammit!
I turn the knob and enter the apartment. The shower’s running in the bathroom. For a moment, I consider joining Sloane for Act II of her birthday shower fucking, but guilt’s strangling me like a parasitic vine. I decide to run out for toothbrushes and a razor, instead.
And maybe coffee or Dr. Pepper.
And a phone charger or both our phones will die.
I leave Sloane a quick note and head to the elevators.
I can’t think about wiping Sloane’s mind. First, I have to win a fight against a cat shifter. Then get her mafia assholes paid off. Then I can worry about what’s next.
Yeah, because sticking my head in the sand always works well.
* * *
Sloane
I brush my teeth with the toothbrush Bo brought back, trying to act like everything’s cool. Like I’m not totally freaked out about everything.
The fight.
The money.
The mafia.
Getting my memory wiped.
Because I heard what Garrett told Bo. Get her memory wiped tonight.
I don’t know how that works, but I know I don’t want it. I was stupid to trust anyone to have my back. No one ever has. I came into this world alone, and I’ll go out alone.
I mean, I don’t blame Bo. I recognized the tension in him from the moment I witnessed his secret. I’m not supposed to know. I get it.
And he’s still a fucking knight in shining armor to me. He saved my life. He’s going to fight to win money for me.
He has my undying gratitude.
But he’s been right from the start. I’m bad news for him and his family. Now I’m going to cause him stress with his pack.
I definitely am not going to cause him trouble with the Detroit mafia, too.
As soon as this fight’s over, I need to get out of here. Break things off with Bo. I can’t have him acting like the hero to save my ass. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him.
Bo bought a charger, and my phone’s plugged in now. I texted my aunt last night to tell her I was spending the night with a friend.
I’m pretty sure she knows that friend is Bo because she wrote back, Please believe you can be honest with me. I just want you to be safe.
I wrote, I will be safe!
I know, it’s probably much less than she wanted, and I’ll probably have to suffer through some kind of safe sex lecture when I get back.
“So...now what?” I ask Bo when we’re both through brushing our teeth.
His expression is tight. “We have a couple hours to burn. I don’t know—want to go see some of Tucson?”
My chest tightens even more. How is this guy so damn sweet?
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” I lace my fingers through his, savoring every touch, every gesture as our last.
“Want to learn how to drive a motorcycle?” he asks when we get outside.
Some of the heaviness on my limbs lifts, and I almost manage a smile. “Totally.”
Bo flashes that pirate grin at me, and for a moment, my heart flutters—happiness flitting its delicate wings—before I remember I don’t get to keep this.
I don’t get to keep him.
But I have these moments. The world sharpens into focus. The sun is already warming the cool autumn mo
rning, and I’m with the guy who is sex on wheels. I put on the helmet and listen carefully as he explains how to hold in the clutch and kick the motorcycle to life. It takes me several tries—five to be exact—but I get it going.
Pirate grin.
Swoon.
“Okay, now you’re going to practice putting it into gear. Have you driven a stick?”
I shake my head.
He swings his leg over the seat to sit on the bike behind me, reaching around to hold the handlebars.
For a moment, I stop listening, savoring instead the way his body snugs up against mine. His freshly-showered clean scent. The sight of his strong forearms and big hands.
I love you.
Those are the words that pop into my head.
I don’t say them, of course.
I’ll never say them. It wouldn’t do either of us any good. But they’re real and true.
He explains the gear shifting with the clutch and then demonstrates it a couple times before he lets me try.
I instantly kill the bike.
Dammit.
Three more tries to kickstart the engine. Four to get the bike in gear and moving.
Bo’s arms stay loose around me, like he’s ready to take over if I screw up, but we’re off, putzing in first gear up the street.
“Now put the clutch in and change gear,” he says in my ear.
Unbelievably, I do it.
I laugh as we pick up speed. I take us on the back streets near downtown, driving up and down through historical neighborhoods.
“Take a right here,” Bo directs, pointing to a larger street. I follow his directions, and soon we’re climbing a road that leads up a large hill—or maybe a small peak—with a giant letter “A” on it for the U of A.
The landscape in Arizona is unbelievably different from Michigan. At first, I saw it as all brown, but now that I’ve been here a few months, I see the color in the browns. The textures. The greens of the sahuaros, the glow of their spines at sunset—like a halo of light surrounding the giant cacti. There are wildflowers in autumn. And fruit on the cacti.
And now that the excruciating heat of summer is past, there’s something cleansing about the sun. Like it will burn off all the shit in my life and make it new again.
We drive all the way to the top of the mountain, and I nearly kill us trying to park it. Not really, but Bo had to put his feet down and grab the handlebars to keep me from dumping it.
“Good job, Legs. You did it.”
I hop on one leg to dismount and turn to face him. “I did.” Despite everything we’ve been through and still face, I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Thank you.”
He takes me into his arms and just holds me there.
For once, the charge of sexual tension is absent. Or at least diminished. There’s a sweetness to the way he holds me. Like he, too, knows this is our last day together.
That we should savor these small moments.
I don’t know how long we stand there. It’s a while.
Finally, Bo shifts on his feet and releases me. “We’d better get to Fight Club.”
“Seriously? It’s called Fight Club?”
“Shifter Fight Club, yeah.”
I freeze as the realization hits me. “Oh shit. Is this like, cage fighting?”
“Yeah, definitely.” I get a glimpse of the pirate grin. “Don’t worry, I got this, Legs.”
My stomach tightens into a hard knot.
I sure as hell hope he’s right.
Chapter 13
Bo
I definitely didn’t know what I was getting myself into.
I’ve been in fights. With my buddies. With other shifters my age.
Not with full-grown shifters of other species.
It’s noon on a Sunday, but Shifter Fight Club is packed. I mean crazy-packed.
The smells alone overwhelm me. I’ve never seen so many different species of shifters. There are so many scents I can’t identify.
Trey’s girlfriend Sheridan struts around the place, giving orders and taking no prisoners. She’s hot as hell, but I’m careful not to look. I scent Trey’s mark on her, which means he could get very territorial and testy if he finds me disrespectful.
I have my own girl to protect, and my wolf is definitely riled up about all the possible dangers to her.
Too bad the worst one could be me.
I keep my hands at her waist, needing to feel her under me, to show my claim on her, even though she’s not marked.
She gets a ton of looks, but most aren’t friendly. They know she’s human, and humans probably aren’t allowed here. Or at least aren’t welcome.
In typical Sloane fashion, she doesn’t show any discomfort; she just tosses her hair and looks around coolly.
“I’m going to take Bo to the back, but you can stand behind the bar here, with Sheridan,” Trey tells her.
“Sheridan, this is Sloane, Bo’s girlfriend from Cave Hills.”
Sheridan was princess of the Wolf Ridge pack before she left to slum it with Trey, so she knows exactly what that means. She studies Sloane for a half-second before extending her hand. “Nice to meet you. You can stick back here with me where you’ll be safe while Bo fights. Sound good?”
Sloane nods. Again, she shows nothing, but I sense her unease. I give her hand a quick squeeze before I leave with Trey.
He gives me a pair of gym shorts to change into and a pep talk that I barely hear.
I’ve spotted my competitor, and he looks vicious. Bigger than me, but it’s not so much his size as it is the nasty expression on his face I find daunting. Like he wants to disembowel me.
Hopefully, that hasn’t happened here.
I jump around on the balls of my feet, listening to the roar of the crowd as the first fight gets underway.
Time speeds up. Or maybe it stands still. All I know is one minute I’m standing there waiting, the next minute, Trey is propelling me forward, into the cage, announcing my name and stats to the crowd.
I don’t even see the first punch coming. It flattens me, possibly breaking my cheekbone.
I roll and spring up, though, faster than he expects, and circle the cat. I think he’s a panther. No, maybe a jaguar. How the fuck do I know?
He jabs another punch, but I dodge this one. Try my own. I catch him in the ribs, but then he catches me, too.
We circle each other, throwing a few punches. I dodge the first two, then take a blow to the temple that drops me. My vision goes black. I don’t know for how long—maybe a second. I scramble back up, but the crowd is booing me.
The cat is laughing. He comes at me again. I’m dizzy, and I misjudge my punch, sending it wide. I take another one to the teeth and stumble back.
He advances. “You fighting for that girl you came with?” he taunts. “That pretty little piece of pussy?”
I growl. I know he’s trying to get rise out of me, but I can’t fucking help myself. I don’t like him talking about Sloane.
“Think she’s impressed with her little high school boyfriend right now?” he cackles. “I’m pretty sure she’s over there peeing her pants. Why the fuck would you bring a human to a place like this?”
He swings again, and I dart in, punching him square in the gut four times before he gets me back.
“Tell you what, wolfie. Let’s make a deal. If I win, I’ll give you my prize money if you let me take your pretty human for a ride.”
That’s it. I barely hold my wolf back as I lunge for him. I tackle him to the ground and pin him, punching his face over and over again. He stands no chance of getting free now. My brain’s only focused on one intent: to protect my female.
And to punish any threat to her.
I don’t even notice when he goes unconscious, only that Trey has to yank me off him, shouting, “Enough, Bo! It’s over—you won!”
* * *
Sloane
Trey holds Bo’s fist in the air as champion, and the crowd roars—mostly disapprov
al, I think, but all the wolves are for Bo, and they shout the loudest.
Bo’s gaze cuts through the crowd to land on me, and he grins, blood showing through his teeth just like it did the night of the homecoming dance.
Jesus.
My palms are sweaty and cut open from my fingernails stabbing into the flesh I was so scared. And he’s up there grinning. Like he just had the time of his life.
Crazy freaking wolf boy.
I’m nearly bowled over by the rush of emotion that fills my chest. Love, I guess. Total affection. Gratitude. Maybe they’re all the same thing.
I love that wolf boy standing up there, grinning because he just fought for me and won.
Trey drags him through the back entrance, and he disappears, then resurfaces in a fresh t-shirt and his jeans, pushing through the crowd to me. I come out from behind the bar and throw myself at him.
He laughs, catching me around the waist then hoisting me higher, so I straddle his waist.
“You were incredible,” I shout, dropping kisses on his neck, biting his shoulder.
“I almost D.Q.ed,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s against the rules to let your animal out in the cage, and I damn near sprouted fangs to kill the fucker.”
My thighs tighten around his waist as the hot room spins around me. There’s so much otherworldly stuff to take in here, I am still reeling.
My boyfriend is a wolf.
Fake boyfriend.
Or is he real now?
“He disrespected you, and I went nuts,” Bo tells me.
I want to screw him right here. This wolf-knight thing turns me on like nothing in the world. He must get the vibe because his arms tighten around me. He heads for the back room where he came from.
I see people settling up their bets as we walk through—cash being paid out by a grey-haired man with a young face flanked by a taller man with Coke-bottle glasses and a man shouting directions to the bettors in an Irish brogue.
“Employees only—oh, it’s you,” the huge guy guarding the door to the back says. His gaze travels from my face to Bo, and then he sighs and steps aside. “Tell me you have protection,” he rumbles at Bo.
Alpha Knight Page 14