Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “That I have to like this situation and lump it?” Christie said wryly, although, she did appreciate the woman’s candor.

  “Basically, yeah.”

  She pressed her chin on top of her knees and murmured, “I don’t have to lump anything where Mundo is concerned. I know you’re right. I know he’s mine as I’m his. And I know that living without the mate bond is something I couldn’t do. But that doesn’t mean I can stand him threatening to go out and kill people just because he’s a bear. I don’t care if it’s a part of his nature, a nature that has given me him in the first place. You’re a writer. You wrote in war zones. I didn’t. I swore an oath to do no harm, for Christ’s sake. I can’t live this kind of life. It might suit you, but it doesn’t me.

  “That being said, I can handle him being a part of the clan. He works in the bike shop; he’s a mechanic. That I can handle. But this other shit? No, no way. And I don’t think I’m asking the world for my partner not to go off and commit serial murder!”

  Annette wrinkled her nose then nudged her gently with her elbow. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

  Christie barked out a laugh. “I’m glad someone else thinks so.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make out that it was right to go and hurt people. I’m just trying to make you see that they do things differently here because of what they are. When I first met Mars, the same people who took you today managed to shoot me. Mars said his bear was constantly wearing at his control, tearing at it, trying to get him to go off and kill the men who had hurt me. Mundo is going through the exact same thing, Christie. His bear is an intrinsic part of him. Imagine having a pissed off bear rattling around inside you. I mean, it’s not pretty, is it?

  “The fact that Mundo is here now, not off in Houston somewhere trying to avenge you, says a hell of a lot about the man’s control.”

  “When you put it like that—” Her words stymied to a halt. It choked her up to think that Mundo was fighting an internal battle because of her, and that a bear, a magical bear, was wanting to protect her because that creature considered her its mate too. “I’m sorry you got hurt, Annette,” she finished, rather than say what she wanted to.

  The other woman shrugged. “It’s okay. It all worked out all right in the end.”

  “It did?” That had her eyebrows lifting.

  “Yeah. I got some pretty cool tricks as a result.” She grinned. “Although, from what Mars told me, you got some tricks of your own. That’s unusual, you know. Means your bond is dead strong.”

  “What kind of tricks?” As soon as she asked the question, she realized what Annette meant. “Oh, you mean the speed thing.”

  “As well as the internal weapon of being able to projectile vomit.”

  Christie clapped a hand to her face. “Oh, God, why did they have to tell you that?”

  She smirked. “Because it’s hilarious? It has to be the first time the Martinez cartel was disarmed by projectile vomit.”

  Though Annette was amused, that same sense of nausea that had overwhelmed her in the van hit her once more. She gulped, swallowed it down and let out a low moan. She’d been blanking out what she’d done today and had managed to do a fine job of it by focusing all of her woes on Mundo. But her mate, regardless of his affiliations, had never murdered anyone.

  She, the one who had vowed to do no harm, had.

  “Christie? Is everything… Are you all right? Do you need Mundo?”

  She gasped, “Something just popped into my head. Something bad.”

  “What? About today?”

  “I-I…” Oh, God. The words burned on her tongue. She longed to say them aloud, to have someone else be aware of her guilt. Though she was no Catholic, she could understand the appeal of confession. Be it to a cop or a priest, or even Annette, she felt like letting the admission spill forth.

  She’d murdered someone. It didn’t matter that it was accidental, that her intention had never been to end that man’s life.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Sure it does. It sounds like it’s cutting you up pretty bad. Take it from someone who’s had way too many therapy sessions forced on them—it’s good to talk.”

  Desperate to change the subject, Christie grabbed hold of Annette’s words. “I wouldn’t have taken you for someone who goes to therapy.”

  Annette snorted. “A diversionary tactic if ever I’d heard of one, but I’ll bite. The clue was there; the sessions were forced on me. My mother was concerned about me. My doctor was concerned about me… So yeah, when so many people are concerned about you, you end up in therapy.” Her grin was wry. “Look, whatever it is that’s eating you up about today…” Her grin turned sober and she licked her lips, as though trying to feel her way into saying the right thing. “If they hurt you, did anything… anything at all to you, then be sure to discuss it with Mundo.”

  Thank Christ, they’d never done anything to hurt her. They hadn’t had time. But she’d hurt someone else. She shivered at the memory.

  “How can I discuss it with him?” she snapped, genuinely annoyed by Annette’s words. “He wants to start a war over what happened to me today. How can I share anything with him when it might set him off?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t think of it like that. He’s your other half, Christie. Keeping anything bad from him will only make it wear harder on you. Trust me, I’ve had a little more time than you with the mate bond. I kept a doctor’s appointment back from Mars, didn’t tell him I was going.” Annette sucked in a breath. “An old injury was acting up, but I didn’t want to hurt him or worry him, so I didn’t tell him. But the longer time passed with me withholding it from him, the guiltier I felt.”

  “That’s normal, isn’t it?”

  “No, this was a bad kind of guilty. It started eating me up inside.” She grimaced. “It was pretty insane. So, just a heads up—don’t keep stupid shit from him.”

  Well, she hadn’t, had she? She’d told him the truth, and he’d told her that going to the cops wasn’t necessary, that they ‘policed’ these kinds of situation themselves. What kind of reassurance was that?

  “No, I guess that’s good advice for all kinds of relationships, though, isn’t it? Communication is the key.”

  Annette snorted. “I never ascribed to that policy before, and I wouldn’t now, but I don’t seem to have a say in the matter.”

  Christie sighed. “If he didn’t make me feel so good, if I didn’t feel like I’d suffer without him, this mate bond would suck.”

  “Yeah, but he does make you feel good and you would suffer without him, so the point is moot.” Annette got to her feet then bowed over Christie’s shoulder to rub her arm in consolation. “Let me know when you’re ready to accept Mundo for what he is, and I’ll introduce you to the key members of the MC. Most of them are guys and they’re pretty cool, but there are some new women idling around. You never know. You might like it here. It might suit you more than you think, because let’s face it, someone somewhere made you and him two halves of the same whole, so his life choices and yours must align somewhere or other.”

  And with that, she stalked off, going about her business like the words she’d just uttered hadn’t shaken Christie’s world.

  ***

  “Wait a minute!” Mundo hollered, holding up his hands to silence the small group around him. The council had gathered because intel had just come back from one of the cops in the MC’s pocket. The aptly named, ‘Dick the Prick’ was a jackass of the first degree, but he was a reliable and often loose-lipped resource. “You mean to tell me it wasn’t the Martinez clan behind the hit and Christie’s kidnapping?”

  Mars shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. It was a small gang, Los Tigres Rojos. They’re up and coming, trying to establish themselves in that part of Greenspoint. They’ve had some run-ins with the cartel, and so far, Martinez’s goons have been more successful. Dick the Prick told me Narcotics had just hauled a shit load of Tigres in after a drug bust. Th
ey lost over sixty of their guys.”

  “Fuck,” Mundo bit off. “That’s more than bad luck; that’s incompetence. But what the fuck have we done to them? I’d never heard of them, so how the hell can I have pissed them off?”

  “Because it’s your magical talent?” Kiko interjected sarcastically then held up his hands in surrender when Mars glowered at him.

  “Shut up, Kiko. We don’t need that shit making things worse. The situation is already bad enough.”

  In reply, Kiko rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut as asked.

  “He’s kind of right,” Mundo admitted sheepishly. “I do tend to piss a lot of people off, even if it is unintended. But still, I’d remember doing something to piss off a new gang, especially when they just tried to kill me. I’ve been in prison for the last couple of months, for Christ’s sake.”

  “You didn’t meet any of those Red Tigers in there? No new transfers. Maybe the first of those guys from the drugs bust Dick the Prick mentioned came onto the scene inside?” Major, the clan’s healer and fellow council member, asked.

  Mundo studied the other guy for a second, letting his brain wander back to those miserable days inside a cell. He’d been pretty low key during this particular ‘stay.’ He’d already felt like an idiot for getting caught, something that spoke of his naivete and youth. He was a council member now. Council members weren’t naive and they didn’t get caught and sent to jail—not when Mars was the Prez.

  Only because tensions had been high and hatred between the clan and the Martinez cartel was so fraught had Mars forgiven him, and Mundo’s place on the council had never been in question. But on another occasion, another day, that could be so different.

  Being friends with Mars prior to his taking this seat had helped him jump a huge ladder. He didn’t want to waste that or throw it back in Mars’ face, so he’d been a good boy inside. He hadn’t gotten into any fights, even though he’d wanted to. Some jackasses had tried to start shit, but Mundo had backed away—even though it had killed him to walk away—and he’d managed, barely, to keep himself on the straight and narrow in there.

  He’d never heard of the Tigres, and he had no idea why a small group with their numbers recently depleted would be interested enough in him to organize a hit when they had to be struggling to recoup those losses and still stay functioning.

  After seriously racking his brain, Mundo had to concede defeat and shake his head. “No, I don’t remember any gangs in there called anything like that at all. Plus, I got out of there with a squeaky-clean record for once. I didn’t do anything to put my position here in jeopardy.” By that, he meant the privilege of being on the council at such a young age—he knew the council understood that too.

  To a man, they were all over one hundred, at a minimum—all in their prime, all with strong bears, and strong fighters in their skin. He was the odd one out because he’d been the one with the guts to go to his pal and start talking about challenging the old Prez, trying to get Mars psyched enough to take on the role of President, a role he was born for but had been hesitant to accept.

  Mars let out a hissed breath. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Major, with a pensive frown puckering his brow, asked, “Could they have been going after Christie?”

  “Why, though? Her only value to a gang like that is her connection to Mundo, a man on The Nomad’s council. But because he’s been inside, I doubt the people who are most interested are even aware of what he’s been doing. So, there’s no way they’d know Mundo was on the council, if that was their game—trying to twist his arm into ceding or voting on important matters.”

  Major agreed to that with a nod. “I get where you’re coming from, but if it isn’t Mundo or the MC, then it has to be her, surely? At least, has anyone else in the club come to any of us in the council about this new gang?” When everyone shook their head, he stated, “Well, doesn’t it make sense to look into Christie’s situation?”

  Mundo frowned. “She’s a dentist, Major, what kind of trouble do you think she can get into?”

  “She works in a prison,” came the wry retort. “She doesn’t have to get into it herself without it being forced on her.”

  He relaxed when he realized Major wasn’t being accusatory.

  Major slapped him on the back and said, “Chill, brother. I’m not blaming any of this on her.”

  Mundo grimaced, because the truth was, he wouldn’t be able to blame his Clan if they did. If this was happening to anyone else but him, he’d be suspicious of a new mate who brought trouble with her. Because of that, and even though it made him miserable, he had to ask, “What if it is her fault though? How will the Clan take to her if she’s brought this shit on us? They’re not going to welcome her with open arms are they?” No. They’d be hostile like she was to the Clan.

  But before misery could rake his insides, Mars shook his head. “Christie was kidnapped, Mundo. Co-conspirators rarely go to such lengths to save face.”

  There was a bluntness to Mars’s words, a resolution that told Mundo there was no blame cast Christie’s way. As a result, he let out a relieved sigh. He knew that Christie wasn’t involved, but his brothers were a different matter. Mundo had been shot, and without his powers, he would have died. That was a declaration of war in anyone’s eyes. Throw in the fact his mate had been kidnapped, and that was the first showdown.

  Los Tigres had a lot of shit heading their way if they but knew it. Well, that would have been the case with the old Nomads. Fuck knew how Mars would handle this problem.

  “Do you think she’s treated one of their foot soldiers in jail?” Major asked, a pensive cast to his features. As he spoke, he drummed his fingers against the council table.

  Mundo shrugged, honestly stating, “I have no idea.”

  “We need to talk to her,” Kiko murmured, “We need to know what she knows.”

  Feeling himself start to bristle, his bear taking umbrage at the notion of his still-unclaimed mate being questioned by his brothers—most of them unmated—he forced himself to relax. Spying his agitation as well as the serenity he forced himself to feel, Mars nodded and reached for his cell. “Can you bring Christie up to the council room?” A wicked grin slashed across his chops at something the person on the end of the line said, and then he pointed out, “I ain’t going to profess undying love to you in front of my brothers, babe.” So, he was talking to Annette.

  “Why not? We all know you’re pussy-whipped,” Kiko hollered, making the rest of the council snort.

  Mars shot him a glance. “I’ll tell you I love you when I’m making you come later on tonight. How about that?” Kiko rolled his eyes, but Annette was apparently appeased because Mars chuckled again then put the phone down. “She’s just been talking to your mate, Mundo.”

  “Yeah? Hopefully she’s been smoothing over the shit for me.” He scraped his hand over his jaw again, feeling the stubble creeping through and wincing at it. “I need all the help I can get.”

  Major shook his head. “You’re the obvious one to blame for this situation, Mundo. You’re the one in the biker gang, you’re an ex-con, and the reason you met is because you were in jail while she was treating you. But, if what we reckon is true is actually the way of it, then she has nothing to blame you for, does she?”