The roar of the crowd is a lot louder than it was for me. That makes me smile anyway.
Carrie’s first fight doesn’t last long. I can tell how it’s going by the crowd noise and then soon enough the bell is ringing again and the first fighter comes back, looking beat up, and the next goes out.
“I almost beat her.” That’s Fred. He plops down next to me. “She must be tired. I never came that close to beating her before.”
Well, that worries me.
The third fight is longer than any fight I’ve seen yet. Eventually I’m hunched over on the bench with my head in my hands. The tension is killing me. What if she’s just being murdered out there? What if this is my fault? Finally, I run out to see just as the bell rings for an end. The crowd is losing its mind.
Carrie lost.
The thing is, she was up against Jack who she’s apparently fought plenty of times before. But I guess everybody loses, eventually. Jack is raising his hands. He’s getting equal parts cheered and booed because crowds have their loyalties, I guess. There’s a ruckus because Carrie is having trouble getting up and there’s some buzz about the stretcher that makes my stomach turn but finally she shifts back into human form and staggers to her feet. We usually leave the cage shifted, and it feels strange to see her, a woman who looks like she just got put through a meat grinder limp off and into the gym. It looks so wrong. She ignores me but I follow her into the gym. Everyone steers clear of her but they’re all watching. Her shoulder is bleeding, she’s favoring her right leg, she has an ugly bite on her arm, and she’s clutching her side.
She looks stoic. I’m wondering if she even cares she lost. I follow her in and I see her trying to ignore me. But tough luck. Maybe her being my mate is some shitty accident of fate, but I can at least take care of her now.
“I’m patching you up,” I say, as she heads over to the first aid.
“Like hell you are,” she mutters.
“Shut up,” I say, sighing. “Let me just do this.”
Carrie grumbles but she seems too exhausted and beat-up to fight me too. She sits sideways on a bench and I sit across from her with a big first aid tin between us. I’m guessing on some of this shit. We sometimes wanted to pretend at Hardwidge like our shifter powers meant we never needed medical attention but of course, that’s bullshit. I’ve tended to a few injuries in my life, some of which I caused in the first place.
Carrie takes off her shirt but there’s nothing sexy about it this time as she sits there, hunched over in her sports bra and leggings and lets me clean the bite on her shoulder. She stares down at her scraped up hands. I think she got dragged around the cage at one point. I take care of her shoulder and then examine the bad bruising along her side, shaking my head and clucking my tongue.
She’s looked pissed at me since she sat down but now she snorts and chuckles, looking up at me. “You’re like a mama hen,” she says.
“What happened?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “I just lost. But…”
“Hmm?”
“I’m so tired of this bullshit.” She looks tired. I always think she looks beautiful, but she does look absolutely exhausted and too sad. “It’s all for Remmy. That's all it is.”
I pick up an ice pack. It doesn’t feel icy. I read the direction and find out I have break it or something. Carrie laughs at me and grabs it, snapping it over her knee and massing it with her fingers. “You know, you’re cute when you’re confused by human stuff.”
“Somebody should challenge Remmy for alpha,” I say. I say it quietly because it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you want getting back to Remmy.
Carrie raises an eyebrow at me. It’s not so crazy. Generally, anyone can decide to challenge an alpha and duel for the position. Of course, if they lose they might get killed or have to flee. We had some alpha turnover before Dax. For a while, it seemed like everyone wanted to take a shot.
“Nobody’s going to challenge Remmy,” Carrie says, laughing bitterly. “Everyone’s too afraid of him.”
“Are you?” I ask her because I think I already know the answer. I feel like Carrie isn’t afraid of anything. Not fighting Remmy has been a logical choice. But it doesn’t seem like one made out of fear.
“Doesn’t matter,” Carrie says.
“Well, somebody should,” I mumble. I clean the wound at Carrie’s temple. I can hear the crowd filing out now.
“I’m not sorry I lost,” she says. “If I’m not the star anymore maybe Remmy doesn’t make me fight you. Not that I want Jack to kick your ass.”
I snort and reflexively find myself saying, “Jack can’t kick my ass.”
Carrie slowly smiles at that, one eyebrow raised. “He kicked my ass…”
“Well…” I glance around the room but I can’t help smirking.
“Oh!” Her mouth drops open, but she looks quite amused. “You think I can’t take you unless you throw the fight? Are you joking? You’ve seen me in the cage, right?”
“Well, you’re never going to find out,” I say quickly. The thought makes me shudder.
Carrie smiles fondly at that. “You’re a good man. I…”
She doesn’t go on but I can only sigh. “You don’t know me,” I say quietly. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you better than you think,” Carrie says. For a second I even believe her.
I finish patching Carrie up. I feel like things would be easier if I could stand to ignore her. But we keep being drawn to each other again and again. Nothing is resolved and nothing is settled. We clean up and get ready to go and collect our money when Remmy walks in and Ray approaches him. If I was shifted, my fur would be standing up. I have a bad feeling. When I glance at Carrie, I can see that she does too. The other fighters are all standing around and when Ray walks up to him, I feel like everyone tenses.
Ray is limping. He’s still all beaten up. He shouldn’t have fought tonight. He shouldn’t be fighting at all really. That kid has no business in the cage.
“Sir, Mr. Remmy?” Ray says clearing his throat. “I would like to… I know I said I wanted to fight? But I don’t think I can do it anymore?”
“Don’t you need money for your ma’s medical bills?” Remmy says, narrowing his eyes. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Ray clears his throat and says, “Yes, sir. That’s right. I still need the money but I think I’ll just try to get a couple jobs, work on the docks or do whatever work I can get. I can’t fight. I’m not built for it. I was wrong to think I was.”
“You’ll fight til I say you’re done,” Remmy says. He’s casual about it. He doesn’t even look at Ray. He’s looking at his phone. Ray might as well be a pesky fly buzzing around him.
“No,” Ray says. Ray stands up straight and looks Remmy in the eye and a second time says: “No. I won’t. It’s a job and I’m quitting. I won’t fight.”
I don’t remember the last time I admired someone’s bravery so much. Especially since I’m pretty sure he’s about to die…
“You got balls!” Remmy claps him on the back and laughs. He’s not smoking a cigar at the moment. Which makes him look just slightly smaller. “You’re gonna be a good fighter. You just need it beaten in to you.” That’s Hardwidge talk and I find my feet moving until Carrie pulls me back.
“This is bullshit,” I mutter. We’re on the other side of the gym but Remmy hears me and nods in my direction, almost as if he’s amused.
Remmy nods to two of his men. “Put him in one of those cages in back. We’ll starve him until he changes his mind. And teach him a lesson first.” The henchmen look like they’re practically drooling, ready to beat Ray into submission as they drag him away.
Carrie lets me go and now she shouts, “REMMY!”
Everything goes quiet. She walks in front of me. I’m ready to go if I need to, even if it means I’m about to die. She’s fuming, standing just a couple feet from him. I actually think she’s about to shift.
For one insane second, I
think that she could do it. She could challenge Remmy and kill him. Why not?
“You got something to say to me?” Remmy says. He just looks at her, totally unafraid and now he takes out one of his cigars and lights up.
Carrie seems to take a few seconds to force herself into submission and then she slowly says, “Just want tonight’s pay.” She pulls on her coat and sighs. “I gotta get home.”
“Sure thing, doll,” Remmy says. “Come collect.”
Carrie limps over to Remmy and I see her eyes follow Ray as he’s dragged out the door. If I admired Ray’s bravery, I’m not admiring Carrie’s restraint because I can physically feel just how much she wants to rip his throat out right now.
We get paid and I follow Carrie until she gets to the stairs and I hear her hiss in pain. Then I wrap my arm around her waist and help her go on. Once we get outside, she pushes me away.
“C’mon, let me help you get home.” I try again and she stiffens, but she lets me help. “I know you’re pissed.”
“Pissed doesn’t begin to describe what I am,” Carrie says. “And don’t just tell me somebody should challenge Remmy unless you’re going to do it.”
“I’m not,” I mutter, but I frown as we walk along the street to her house. I hold her close and I feel her lean into me. I smell her hair and if she notices me brush a kiss there, she doesn’t say anything. “If you could be alpha, would you be?”
“I can’t be alpha,” she says. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Because...it is.”
“Hmm.” It might be ridiculous to her, but it sure sounds interesting to me. On the other hand, it’s not as if I’m going to try to convince Carrie to challenge Remmy when it could so easily get her killed.
It doesn’t take long to walk to Carrie’s house. We smoke and talk about the fights and pretend we’re not aching for each other and that I didn’t just leave her high and dry yesterday. But at her door she turns around and tugs on the lapels of my coat.
“Come inside,” Carrie whispers. She kisses my cheek and the corner of my mouth and I pull away.
“Carrie, seriously…” I look around and scratch my head. I should just walk away. I find that very difficult to do apparently. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re better off without me before it sinks in?”
“You don’t know best, asshole,” Carrie says. “No, ya know. I get it, you’re so dark and sad and you have so many regrets and you’re just a terrible person-”
“I don’t know why you wanna be with me,” I say, a little angry now. “I can’t be a treat to be around! Why do you even care!”
“I can see who you are,” she says, getting in my face. She locks eyes with me and I can’t look away. “I can see that you just want to be a good man now. That’s all you want to do. You’re going to mess up trying to be one. Guess what, genius? Everyone does that! You’re not special!”
“No, I’m not special!” I say, my blood boiling a little bit because I need her to understand. “You want to know just how not special I am? I kidnapped my sister!” Carrie just looks confused at that. “I come from a pack that...it was a brutal pack, okay? It was violent and...and abusive and...I treated my sister like shit and our alpha kidnapped this guy, one of the Tremblay brothers and then they attacked us to save him so me and my buddy kidnapped my sister and took off into the woods because I was convinced I’d start a new pack and I was going to make her be his mate! I was going to make her and…” I shake my head. I feel tears hot on my face and I’d be mortified because guys don’t cry, right? But it hardly matters now. She’s going to hate me. That’s good. She should hate me. “The Tremblay brothers came, they saved her, locked us up. But before that… I tied her up. I beat her, Carrie. My sister. I mean she was an adult but…” I shake my head and sniff. “That doesn’t fucking matter.”
Carrie stares at me and I have to look away. “You think I didn’t guess it was something like that?” She leans against her door looking at me like I might be very stupid. “Except that I was imagining something worse. You’re paying penance. I get it. You’ve been paying penance for a few years now.”
“I just want to be a good man now,” I mumble, staring down at my shoes. “A good wolf.”
Carrie kisses my cheek one last time and says, “Well, when you’re ready to let me be there while you’re being a good man...let me know. I’ll be here.”
I can’t believe she heard all that and didn’t flip out. But she’s only smiling softly at me as she lets herself in her house and shuts the door.
The walk home feels long but it doesn’t feel too cold.
Chapter Twelve: Carrie
My whole body feels like a bruise. I have to work tomorrow at the restaurant and being on my feet all day is going to suck. I might actually ask Remmy if I can not fight tomorrow night. I wouldn’t usually even try but I’m a little afraid I might actually get killed if I fight like this. I don’t know what the point is of having star fighters or having fighters at all if you let them fight injured and they just get beaten into the dust.
I kept wishing Jason would have changed his mind and asked to come in or would tell me to wait when I went inside. But he didn’t, and I might need to stop chasing him. I feel like Jason would normally be the guy doing the chasing, but he feels like he can’t or he shouldn’t. He feels like he doesn’t deserve me which makes me think he definitely does. I’ve never met a guy who felt like they didn’t deserve me but compared to Jason...they definitely didn’t.
That night, I drag myself inside and just lean there against the door for a while, missing Jason’s kiss and the feel of his big, solid body against mine. I want him. He’s my mate. There’s no doubting that. Once you know somebody’s your mate, you can feel it in your blood. There’s no going back then. It’s no longer a question of if but when. I just have to be patient, which has never been my strong suit. He’ll come around. My blood will call to his blood and he’ll have to come around.
I trudge into my room and wince just taking my clothes off. Jason did an okay job patching me up. It was sweet of him really, but I redress all my bites and clean things up a little. It takes hours to fall asleep. For a long time I can only lie in an awkward position in bed, once I find a way that doesn’t make everything hurt. The ache of my body pulses and I imagine Jason in bed with me, curled up behind me with his arm over me, making me feel safe and loved. If I cry as I fall asleep, at least nobody can hear me.
In the morning, I can hardly get up for breakfast. When my father sees me, I watch his eyes well up with tears and he has to leave the room. He’s going to feel shitty about that all day, since I’m all beat up and in pain because of him. Maybe he should feel bad but it doesn’t make me feel great either. Lorna looks sad too. She asks me all kinds of questions as she sadly stirs her cereal and I try to put a happy face on things but it’s difficult when I know that things are bad. They’re bad and they’re not getting better any time soon. If I’m honest, I’m in survival mode.
“What if you die because another fighter kills you?” Lorna says, suddenly bursting into tears.
Moments like this are when I miss my mother. She died giving birth to Lorna. She wasn’t the cuddliest person. She’s why I’m as tough as I am. But she always knew what to say when I was scared. I feel like I have no clue right now.
I clear my throat, leaning on my hand there at the breakfast table. “I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” I say, stroking her hair. “I’ll be very careful, sweetie. Hey, I promise, okay?”
Lorna doesn’t seem very comforted but she at least stops crying long enough to go to school. My dad doesn’t recover at all. When I leave for work at the diner, I can hear him bawling in the bathroom.
It takes me twice as long as usual to get to the diner and I’m fifteen minutes late but when my supervisor sees me, she doesn’t say boo. Being a shifter, I can heal pretty quickly but there are limits. If I’d been human in that fight, I’d definitely be dead, so even as a shifter, I’m in pretty bad
shape. My side hurts so bad sometimes, I have trouble breathing, and I have to take some extra breaks. At least my bruised up face scores some high tips today and everyone knows who I am and what I do. I get a lot of high fives and cheers even though I lost. A couple of people make me sit down and serve themselves. It’s moments like that that remind me that Grayling isn’t Remmy. There’s a kindness and generosity in this town that just needs the right alpha to flourish. I just don’t know if we’re ever going to get him.
After work, I scarf down as big of a dinner as I can make myself eat on the house from the diner. I eat plenty of meat and I drink some coffee. I take several Ibuprofen. Just in case. I have a bad feeling though as I make my way over to The Ring. If Remmy wants me to fight, I’m going to lose no matter who I’m fighting. If that’s all that happens, I’ll be very lucky.
I guess I must look worse than I did last night because when I walk in the gym, Jason sees me and looks pale. Everyone sort of registers it and goes back to what they were doing. But Jason marches over and glares down at me.
“You’re not fighting tonight,” he declares.
“That’s fine with me,” I tell him. I limp over to a bench and hunch over, rubbing my eyes. I spent some time at the diner after work and it’s nearly ten at night. I wasn’t feeling very up to training. I figure if I end up being forced to fight, some rest and food will do me better than lifting weights this time.
I watch Jason go up to Remmy and tell him I shouldn’t fight tonight. I can’t hear what else they’re saying. Remmy keeps eyeing me and puffing on his cigar. I can’t read his expression. I just hope whatever Jason is saying isn’t going to come back hard on him. Then I see a huge dude walk in the gym. I’ve never seen him before but sometimes The Ring does get shifters just breezing through town, having heard about The Ring and wanting to prove they can take anybody and then make their way. He looks dumb as a post and I see him talking to Remmy and Jason. Or rather, I see him grunting in response to Remmy and Jason. I don’t like the look of this at all. I don’t think anybody could take this guy. He nods at whatever Remmy just said and then he shifts and starts trotting around the gym to warm up. His wolf is enormous. Unless he’s absurdly slow, he’d nearly kill anyone who fought him.
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