The real training for the ring is up in the woods, or anyway it should be. But I don’t get much time to go up there and spar and other fighters hang out at the ring so that’s where we go.
The Ring is a little cement block of a building. It’s a bar when you walk in but that’s just the front really. I nod at Gary behind the bar and take the wide flight of stairs in the backroom down two flights to where all the action happens.
The “ring” itself is a huge fighting platform under a wire cage with two latched gates, one on each side. It sits in the middle of the round amphitheatre bleachers. Four nights a week there are fights in The Ring. The place is often crowded with observers who watch the shifters fight just for fun and spend money on drinks and the admission which is just a couple bucks. But that’s not where Remmy is making his money. The money is in the betting. The big money is in the high rollers who come in from out of town to watch the fights. But plenty of other poor chumps have made themselves indebted to Remmy when they shouldn’t have. One of those very chumps is my father.
That’s why I have to fight.
Right now there’s no fight going on but there are always people down here, even if there’s just Remmy’s little henchmen. Right now there’s a group of guys at a table in the corner doing whatever it is Remmy’s little henchmen do all day. They’re probably looking in a book to see who owes Remmy money or counting money or something along those lines. There’s a wide berth between two sets of bleachers where a garage type door opens up into another huge room with gym equipment and weights and a track around it for running. All the amenities for Remmy’s fighters. But there are other hidden places underground around The Ring too. There are cells and places where people scream if they get out of line or if they can’t make up their debt to Remmy. But hey, he’s the alpha. Who are we to complain?
We just live here.
The guys nod at me. I’ve been fighting in The Ring pretty regularly for about a year, because my dad got himself deep in debt with Remmy and couldn’t begin to pay him back. Lucky for him, he had a strong healthy daughter who’s tough as nails and good in a fight.
I actually look more imposing when I’m not shifted. Or at least when I’m trying to look imposing. I’m tall and I have good muscle tone, especially since I started fighting. I’ve thrown off more than one regular old human asshole who tried to corner me in an alley and I’m not easily intimidated. As a wolf, I look just like any other female wolf, but I’m fast and I’m brutal. That’s because, I have to be. These fights are completely meaningless. They’re fought just so that people can make money, but I fight to get my dad and my baby sister out of Remmy’s clutches. How long that will actually take is anybody’s guess. It’s not as if Remmy has the most integrity in the world. He could keep me fighting until I get killed or I can’t function as a fighter anymore and claim it’s all to pay off my dad’s debt and most days, I assume that’s how things are going to go. But it’s still better than him killing my dad or hurting my baby sister. I wouldn’t put much past Remmy.
“Hey Carrie.” The pup’s name is Ray. He can’t be eighteen yet and I wouldn’t put him over one hundred pounds. He’s Isaac Stewart’s boy. I’ve seen him working at the docks. I’ve never seen him training down here in the ring and I don’t like it at all. “What’s up?”
I frown at him, as I drop my duffle on a mat and stretch my arm behind my neck. “What’re you doing in here, Ray? You just hanging out with Bill?”
“Fighting tonight,” Ray says, grinning. It makes my stomach turn over. “Trial run, Remmy says. But even if I lose, I get fifty bucks!”
“Ray…” I heave a sigh. Ray’s got close cropped black hair. He might be wiry and stronger than he looks and he might be fast but he’s not going to win over some of these wolves, not ever. I know he couldn’t beat me and I hope I don’t ever have to fight him. For Pete’s sake, I’ve babysat the kid a few times. “Why? Why would you fight? I only do it because I have to.”
“Still money,” Ray says, his smile collapsing a little. “I’m saving up to leave. And I’m tough, Carrie! Tougher than you think.”
I’m disappointed in him. I remember once babysitting him when he was young and working on some project for school and I thought he was so smart. He was better in school than I ever was anyway. So much for smarts. “Saving up to leave,” I say, shaking my head. I turn away from him and head over to the free weights. “Yeah, everybody’s savin’ up to leave.”
I don’t like fighting but I’m good at it. I do like training though, even when I’m tired. It takes me out of myself. It’s not as good as running in the woods but I barely have time to do that anymore. Tonight I train in human form for about an hour and a half and then I run around the track shifted and spar with a couple other fighters. Altogether, there are about twenty-five fighters right now and some fight more than others. We heal pretty quick but sometimes an injury will take somebody out of The Ring for a while or Remmy will get it in his head to have somebody lay low for a while and bring them back out like it’s a “come back.” Then there’s me. I fight a lot. At the moment, I’m Remmy’s star. I don’t like that. It’s a dangerous place to be. Being the best fighter in The Ring means sooner or later, everybody’s going to want a piece.
That night I go up against two male wolves about twice my size and I leave them bleeding and whimpering in the cage.
It’s a Thursday so there’s a good crowd but the place isn’t packed. But everybody is shouting my name as I trot out of the cage and through clouds of cigarette smoke, still licking blood from my chops, and head off back into the gym to the locker room behind it. The last guy really messed up my leg but I try to pretend I’m not limping. That’s gonna be rough for a while.
The cheers don’t make me happy. They don’t make me feel anything.
It’s just another night at The Ring.
That night after the fight, I’m one of the last to leave. I like to leave once I’m no longer needed, but tonight I wanted to see how Ray did.
He got the shit kicked out of him.
I’m actually relieved he didn’t get killed. I had no idea of his skill level, but he did turn out to be pretty quick. Still, Oliver, who’s huge and one of the steady and reliable kind of fighters mopped the floor with him. They had to bandage Ray up quick, he was so torn up as they threw him onto a stretcher and carted his wolf away. I watched the whole thing from the back behind the crowds, smoking and two shots of whiskey in. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he won’t come back.
When the fights are over and The Ring starts to empty out, I head to the back and put on my coat. I catch myself looking into the mirror. I feel like I look too old these days. I’m only twenty-six but I feel so much older. I’m attractive yeah but more years like the last couple and I’ll be a withered old crone before I’m thirty. At least I’m not really worried about finding a mate. I only say that because I just don’t think I’ll ever have one. I like a roll in the hay as much as the next girl, but I’ve never felt strongly about anyone and even if I do, I don’t know that I’d be able to trust anyone not to mess up my life further than it’s already messed up.
That night, I hike up the back staircase behind the ring that lets out above ground because I don’t feel like fighting the crowds. I sneak around the corner into the alley that faces the street behind The Ring away from the water. It’s bitterly cold tonight. I feel like proper winter is going to come early this year. But it feels good. I don’t know why cold feels good to me when I’m hurt, but then again I’m a wolf and I live in Alaska so maybe it makes sense. Now I light a cigarette and I lean against a brick wall as I take a drag, feeling like the cold is healing me just a bit.
“Hey, Carrie?” The voice cracks like sticks in the silence and I jerk a little when I open my eyes. My co-worker from the diner, Stacia, is standing in front of me, her breath steaming in the cold. She’s still wearing her waitress uniform, then I remember that she was closing for the night. She shoves her hands deep in her pocket
s, squinting at me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure, sweetie.” I summon a smile and stand up straight. I’ve only had a little bit of whiskey. I’m not more than buzzed.
Stacia’s sweet so I try to help her when I can. I kind of try to help anybody around here if I can, unless they’re an asshole. It’s rough in a place like Grayling. If we don’t help each other, we’re not going to survive. Besides which, that’s what packs are supposed to do and I know that, even if our alpha doesn’t.
“It’s about Ed,” Stacia says sadly. She looks so apologetic as if she’s already sorry about asking for help. I can guess why. I’ve met Ed. I’m sure he has his good qualities, and it seems like he generally treats her right. But he’s a dumbass. “He’s been gambling a lot…”
Oh no.
“Ah,” I say, nodding. “How deep in is he?”
“Not more than five thousand,” Stacia says quickly. “But I’m so afraid it’ll get worse. I just don’t want him to get in any deeper but he keeps seeing other guys win big and thinking his ship’s about to come in… I try to tell him to stop and he’s just not listening.”
“What can I do?” I say, giving her a nod.
“Well…” Stacia shrugs and smiles a little. “He’s afraid of you, Carrie. A lot of the guys are. I was hoping you could make him see reason?”
I’m not supposed to do that. If it got back to Remmy that I was discouraging his customers, it might get ugly for me.
On the other hand, I don’t give a shit.
“Bring him around tomorrow,” I tell her, stubbing my cigarette out on the ground. “I’ll scare him a little.” I give her a wink and she smiles.
“Thanks, Carrie!” She throws her arms around me and I squeeze her back and she kisses my cheek when she lets me go. “If this works, I’ll make you my key lime cheesecake.”
“Oh man.” I rub my stomach. It’s been awhile since I had a good dessert. “I hope you mean that.”
“Hey, if it doesn’t work, I’ll make you my key lime cheesecake. Haha!” Stacia pats me on the back and I let myself laugh before she makes her way out and, feeling a little better about things, I make my way home too. It’s important to take those warm little moments where you can get them. They’re hard to come by in Grayling.
Chapter Four: Jason
My first night in Grayling is cold as hell but not awful. I score the job at Casey’s. I’d have to be an idiot not to. It doesn’t take any experience, I don’t even have to make drinks. I just have to clean up and serve food, wash glasses, and process tabs. The owner is Scottie and the place was his dad’s. Apparently this pack has been here a long time but there have been different alphas over the years. Scottie tells me Grayling’s alpha goes by Remmy and is absolutely not to be fucked with. That’s fine with me. I’m not about to mess with anyone. I’ve had enough trouble of my own making and done enough damage to people who didn’t deserve it to last a lifetime. I just need a place to lay my head and keep to myself, and Grayling seems like it might be a good fit. Anyway, it’s got shifters who get me, even if they’re not from Hardwidge. And that’s something.
I sleep out in the woods on my first night and it’s cold as hell because I couldn’t find a very warm spot. I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this half wolf and half human. I’m going to need human shelter. In the morning I wake up sore and cold but I bathe in the river and shift back, walking from the woods back down into Grayling to go to work at Casey’s. Scottie’s not there when I arrive on the first real day of work but another guy knows who I am right away.
“New lone wolf in town, huh?” A short guy with a beard with only one arm, his other sleeve pinned to his shoulder, sticks out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Mick. Good to meet ya. New bar back, eh?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” I don’t smile but I try not to look unfriendly, not because I want to make friends, but I’d rather not make enemies. “I’m Jason.”
We’re back behind the bar. Casey’s is small and crappy but there’s something warm about it too, I guess. The bar is long, and all weathered dark wood. There are only about six tables and some chairs and benches in the place. There are two scraped up pool tables, a couple of dartboards and music that plays through tinny speakers. I don’t know human music worth a damn. But this sounds like the 70s rock stuff Cal was playing in his truck. I’m getting to like that kind of music. I’d ask Mick about it but shifters who know human stuff get way too amused when you show them you don’t know something.
“Jason.” Mick looks me up and down and nods. “You’ll do. Wanna start on those dishes?”
“Sure thing.”
I’ve never washed a dish in my life. Hardwidge didn’t really have dishes per se. I could have at the Mulligan. They’d have us do chores every day. But guys didn’t do most of the washing. But there’s soap , hot water and a sponge and they want the dishes clean. I’m not an idiot. I get the water good and hot and then I start washing up and, strangely, I kind of like it. It feels nice on my hands. I scrubbed floors sometimes at the Mulligan. I kind of liked that too.
The irony is that this kind of thing was considered “mate’s work” at Hardwidge. We barely had homes, as in human homes, because we were supposed to live like wolves as much as possible. But home-making was definitely considered a woman’s duty. My mom did that stuff and when she took off, it fell to Alice.
“Get your ass back in the shack, Alice, and clean it up. There’s a deer carcass in there. Do it before I get back from the hunt or I’ll show you what it’s like, girl.”
That was how I took care of my sister. What a great guy.
I plunge the hot, soapy sponge into a pint glass and wipe it around. I make sure all the beer stains are gone and I rinse.
You’re all alone and I’m the only person you have left to try to hang onto.
Alice said that when I went to find her after I escaped. She was working at a bookstore. I don’t even remember everything about going to find her that night. Only that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Everything I’d been taught to fight for seemed to be wrong. She was right. She was all I had left to hang onto. But it was too late. I’d hurt her too much. But what really gets me is that Alice and I come from the same place and she turned out pretty good, at least by assimilated shifter standards. She was working at a bookstore and I think she was going to go back to school. She was with a Tremblay. She was just fine. And me, I was in shifter prison. I was a violent asshole of a screw-up. I was nothing but a Hardwidge lackey. I’m still nothing more than that.
Crash.
“Shit,” I mutter and I find myself flinching. A glass slid right through my fingers and shattered on the floor because I zoned out and started thinking about the shit I did and Alice and all of it.
“Happens,” Mick says. He’s down at the other end of the bar, leaning and talking to a big guy with a red nose who blinks over at me dumbly. “Just try not to break more than one in a week. But your first week, we’ll be easy on ya.”
I flinched. Which is weird. I used to flinch all the time when I made a mistake because the older wolves would backhand us when we were pups and we screwed up, and if we were shifted at the time, they’d snap at us with their big teeth. But that’s when I was a kid… That was before I became the guy who backhands and snaps. I don’t know why I flinched. I don’t really want to think about it though.
I’m about halfway through my shift when Mick comes over to talk to me. “You’re sleepin’ up in the woods, huh?”
I’m kind of used to nearly any question being a potential threat. In fact, I’m kinda used to nearly anyone at any time being a threat. I brace myself. “Yeah? What of it?”
“Not safe,” Mick says, raising his eyebrows. “Not for a lone wolf. You need a pack to keep warm in those woods and the pack to the south won’t take a lone wolf-”
“I’ll find a warmer spot,” I say, frowning. I’m gonna need human shelter. I know that but that’s going to take some doing. At least,
I assume it is.
“Not safe,” Mick says again. He’s leaning back against the counter next to me. I don’t know why he cares, and it makes me suspicious. “There are hunters. Everywhere. And you don’t know this land yet. Again, no good for lone wolves. If you’re gonna fly solo, you’re gonna need a place.”
“Well..” I shrug, clearing my throat. “I don’t have a place. Once I put some money together…”
“I got a place for ya,” Mick says, smiling kindly and tugging on my sleeve. “It’s a shithole, but it’s safe. It’s behind the bait shop. Anna who runs the place rents the room, it’s gotta little kitchenette and everything.”
“Why do you care?” I say, whipping around to face him and glowering.
Mick puts his one hand up in defense. “Whoa there, doggie. Anna needs a tenant is all. She’s my girlfriend. She’ll rent it for three hundred bucks a month. I dare ya to find better.”
I take a deep breath and try to calm down, running a hand through my hair. A place. Like a place where you live between four walls that’s not even in the woods. The kind of place humans live. I’m a long way from Hardwidge now, I guess.
“Yeah, alright,” I say, nodding. “I can take a look at it-?”
“It’s across the street,” Mick says. “I’ll take you when you break for dinner.”
By the end of my second day in Grayling and my first day of work, I have a place to live. When I finish my shift, I cross the street and go home. Not bad. The place is a shithole but I get the impression that three hundred bucks for rent is next to nothing. I honestly have no idea I’ve never rented a place before. But it’s got a small refrigerator and a counter with a hot plate and a couple counters. There’s a bed too. Anna from the bait shop claims it’s just a couple years old and I should just get new bedding. I guess. I’m used to sleeping in dirt, so I don’t know what the fuss is about.
I sit in my little rented room and I get antsy after about five minutes. I spent the last couple years in a cell not much smaller than this. My wolf wants to move after so long.
Jason's Mate Page 3
