I shouldn't be excited about seeing him when he drops my car off. I shouldn't want to know more about his mysterious healing abilities.
But he's like an addiction. Now that I've had my first taste, I can't stop thinking about him.
Jared
"So when you gonna do it?" Trey asks.
I lower the hood of Angelina's Toyota and use the rag to give it a polish. Tank is handling the large repairs but I couldn't help coming to check out his work. Or maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment-wanting another whiff of Angelina's sweet scent. "Do what?"
Trey rolls his eyes. "Mind wipe the dancer." He leans on the driver's side and I throw the rag at him.
"Quit smudging the window."
"Well, excuse me." He catches the rag in a blur of movement. "Didn't mean to mess up your girlfriend's car."
"She's not my girlfriend." My gut tightens even as I say the words. Not my girl, won't ever be my girl. I might have more muscle than brains, but I'm smart enough to know this.
Too bad my wolf thinks differently.
I grab my tools and start cleaning up, tossing and banging a bit more than necessary.
"Damn, you've got it bad," Trey observes. "Maybe I should take her to the leech."
"Over my dead body." I straighten and point a finger at the tall shifter. He's my closest friend, but right now, my wolf sees only an opponent. The enemy. Competition.
Trey spreads his hands. "Easy. I'm not going to go near her. But you're only delaying the inevitable."
He's right. If I don't do this, Garrett will kick my ass. And then he'll order Tank or Trey to do it anyway.
"It sucks. She's in college," Trey lowers his voice. "A mindwipe could seriously fuck her up if it's not done right."
I slam down my tools, wanting to kick the cabinet for good measure. "I know. I know."
"Have you-" Trey starts, when a white Camaro rolls into the lot. My friend swears. "Don't tell me we've got customers."
Trey heads to the door and stops in his tracks when three guys unfold from the car. One black haired, one grey, and the third wears an old fashioned hat-a fedora type that gangster would wear-only he's so tall and skinny he looks like a scarecrow. "You called them?"
"I reached out. They wanted to meet." I head to the sink to clean up. "We're going to check out a space to hold the fights."
"Does Garrett know?"
"He knows." My alpha isn't happy, but as more of our pack gets mated off, he sees the benefit of having an outlet for his bachelors to release their aggression. More than just breaking up brawls at Eclipse. My wolf, especially, needs to fight, to bleed on a regular basis.
The way this situation with Angelina has me riled up, I could go twenty rounds with a bruin right now.
Trey prowls alongside me to the parking lot where the three visitors wait. Two of them smoke while the third, the tall one in a fedora, hangs back.
"Parker," I greet the grey-haired one. Despite his hair color, he doesn't look much older than I am. He gives me a nod, expertly averts his gaze-not submissive but not challenging.
The dark-haired one tosses his butt to the ground and regards us without speaking. Declan, the Irishman. I don't remember the third guy's name, but the way he stares over our heads, twitching nervously, he's not going to say much.
My wolf is uneasy as he catches their scent. It's a bit… off. No wonder they're not part of any pack. Healthy shifters don't tolerate messed up ones for long. The way these guys smell, not to mention the tall one's twitching, all but the most controlled, compassionate Alpha would put them down. I don't know exactly what Data-X did to these guys, but from the rumors I've heard, death might be a mercy.
"Glad you could make it. I didn't expect you to have time to meet."
"Chance to expand, we'll make time." Parker's voice is a little raspy. His eyes glow a little-his animal is close. I have no idea what his animal actually is. This doesn't make my wolf happy. But these guys helped out Sam, our pack member and a bartender at Eclipse. And Sam trusts them.
"It's getting too hot for shifter fights in Cali," Declan announces in his subtle brogue.
Trey frowns. "It gets pretty hot here…"
I nudge him in the ribs. "They're not talking about the weather."
"The Pit isn't as secure as we'd like," Parker says. "Men have been sniffing around.
"Men?" I look from Declan's grim face to Parker's blank one.
"Human cops." Parker wrinkles his nose. "Coming around asking about illegal fights and gambling. We think someone put them on to us, trying to flush out shifters."
"I thought that trouble was gone." I avoid naming Data-X directly.
Parker grimaces. "Not entirely."
The third guy twitches so hard, his fedora flies off his head. Declan lets out a dog-like whine that cuts off at a sharp shake of Parker's head.
"You'd be welcome to set up fights here," I say, trying to stay nonchalant. These three might be misfits, but when it comes to booking fights and handling bets, they're the best.
"Good," Parker says and excitement surges through me. "I got a lot of animals who want to fight, and nowhere to put them."
"Not to mention the bets," Declan adds.
I nod. "Let's go check out the space." My wolf howls in triumph as we head to our respective rides.
"Damn," Trey says, settling onto his bike next to me. "This is really happening."
"Shifter Fight Club. Just like we always wanted." We exchange grins, but as we roll out mine fades. Tonight we make a decision on the space to host the fights. Tomorrow I have to take Angelina to a leech. He'll wipe her mind, her memory of the accident, along with who knows what else of her brain.
It doesn't seem right that on the eve of realizing my dream, I'm going to ruin her life.