Wyatt forced a smile. “That’s what I’m hoping.”
Spider scoffed. “You’re not there yet. You’ll have to pass the tests first.”
Wyatt shifted. “Tests?”
Spider waved a hand. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Weston laughed as if that was some kind of joke. Nerves pricked Wyatt’s spine. What kind of tests were they talking about? Nothing good, it would seem.
“Okay, well, I’m ready for anything,” he said, attempting to sound enthusiastic. The two men shared a look and laughed.
“I’m sure you are,” Spider said, clearly not believing him. Well, obviously, the tests were even worse than he could imagine. He hadn’t bargained on this.
But if he could get the information he came for without having to even go near these tests, all the better.
“Have many people tried to pass these tests? How many have succeeded?” Did my brother try and fail? Is that why he never came home?
“McCready doesn’t let just anyone take them. He handpicks his favourites, and only the best of them make it in.” Weston again looked proud, like this was an accomplishment, rather than the moral failure Wyatt considered it.
“I see,” Wyatt replied. “Any hints on what these tests are, or even when?”
Spider shrugged. “Whenever he feels like it.”
Okay, so Wyatt would have to be ready at all times. He was already so on edge, this wasn’t what he needed.
“And these previous people who took—”
Wyatt cut off as the door to the gym swung open. He spun, nearly growling at the newcomers for interrupting his interrogation when he was finally getting around to asking questions that might lead to his brother. But when he saw it was Chen, he bit back whatever he would have said. Instead, he nodded in acknowledgement and Chen returned the gesture. Then, Chen glanced at Spider and Weston, but made no effort to greet them.
Wyatt smiled at the man’s subtly petty gesture. He erased it from his face before turning back to his marks. Where could they go where they wouldn’t be interrupted? Where Spider and Weston would follow him, and he would be free to ask all the questions he wanted?
There was only one place he could think of.
“You two want a drink? I’m buying.”
Their grins were answer enough.
Spider and Weston were putting away drinks at the rate of three to Wyatt’s one. After a few hours of solid drinking they were, to put it mildly, extremely drunk.
And yet they hadn’t breathed a single word about Dean.
It wasn’t for lack of trying on Wyatt’s part. He kept finding ways to talk about previous fighters—getting less and less subtle at introducing the topic as the evening wore on and Wyatt’s frustration mounted along with Spider and Weston’s blood alcohol levels.
And yet the two, whether intentionally or not, immediately went off track at every attempt. Wyatt was half-tempted to slam their heads against the bar to see if it would shake anything loose, but decided it was a lost cause.
One last attempt.
He called for another round to be brought over, then waited while Spider and Weston took their first sips. They were slumped precariously on the bar stools, their backs hunched as if they could no longer hold themselves upright. Wyatt was pleasantly buzzed, but hadn’t wanted to get beyond that. He wasn’t a big drinker, anyway. When he’d been a detective, he’d not always known when he’d be called to a scene, and there was nothing worse than staggering drunk onto a crime scene. And he liked his mind clear and in control, particularly during an interrogation, which is what this was.
While he waited for Spider and Weston to replenish their whiskey content, he glanced around the room. The bar itself was a filthy dive Spider had suggested. Drinks were spilled on every surface, and it was clear no one had cleaned them in a while. The floor was stained with multiple substances, many Wyatt didn’t even want to know about. Even the décor was in poor shape, including the tattered Confederate flag hanging by the door.
The patrons weren’t much better. Men of all ages crowded the space, many sporting leather jackets and unkempt beards. The few women dotted through the crowd were mostly older, worn-looking, and more skimpily dressed than Wyatt would expect for someone of their apparent ages.
However, every one of the bar’s patrons was enjoying themselves other than Wyatt. This was not his crowd, and the lack of information from Spider and Weston made him increasingly bitter about having to stay here.
“So, I think someone mentioned a guy called Dean,” Wyatt said, throwing subtlety out the window. “What was he like? Did he pass the tests?”
Spider narrowed his eyes. “Where’d ya hear that name?”
Weston drunkenly leaned into Spider. “Which one was Dean?”
“The mouthy do-gooder.”
Weston laughed. “Oh, that guy. Yeah, he got what he deserved.”
A chill snaked down Wyatt’s spine and wrapped around his chest like a tight band. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe. All the alcohol leeched from his system at once, leaving his head crystal clear. He attempted to say something, but the band around his chest tightened in panic.
“What was that?” he choked out. Were they talking about the same Dean? He had to believe so. ‘Mouthy do-gooder’ wasn’t a bad description of Dean on his good days. This could be the confirmation he was looking for that Dean had fallen in with McCready. And if that was the case, then he was one stepped close to finding his brother. Or, his brother’s body.
“What?” Spider asked, swivelling in his chair to peer at Wyatt through vague eyes.
“What did he deserve?” Wyatt tried again.
Both men laughed, sloppily falling into each other as they did so. “Oh, the usual. He—”
Spider broke off frowning. Wyatt almost cursed. What the hell was it now? He’d been so damn close.
Spider patted one pocket, then the other, swaying with each movement. Wyatt couldn’t hear it over the noise of the bar, but he assumed Spider was looking for a ringing phone.
Wyatt cleared his throat and pointed to the device poking out of Spider’s breast pocket on his jacket. Spider grinned merrily.
“Oh.”
He pulled it out and answered without checking who it was. “Hello?”
“Who is it?” Weston asked loudly, nudging his friend.
“I don’t know,” Spider replied into the phone. “I can’t hear.”
“Ask them who it is?” Weston insisted, and despite his frustrations with the two men, Wyatt almost laughed. They would have made a good comedy duo, if comedy duos were known for their violence and cruelty.
Wyatt plucked the phone out of Spider’s hand, wanting whoever it was to go away so he could get back to their conversation.
“Spider’s indisposed right now,” he began.
“Wyatt?” said a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing with Spider’s phone?”
“Kat?” Wyatt replied.
“Yeah. Are you with Spider?”
“Yes,” he replied, off balance. Was this a work call, or was there something personal between Kat and Spider? He shuddered at the thought, even as a surprising amount of jealousy stabbed at him.
“Is he too drunk to talk?” she asked wearily, as if it was something that happened on the regular.
“Pretty much,” Wyatt replied, eyeing Spider where he’d tilted into the bar, his eyelids drooping.
“Time for us to go, then.”
“Us?” Wyatt asked, not sure he’d heard correctly over the noise of the bar.
“I’m outside. I was sent to pick Spider and Weston up.”
Wyatt blinked. “How did you know where we were?”
Kat snorted through the phone. “This is always where Spider is when he goes AWOL.”
“Oh,” Wyatt replied. He should have known.
“Can you get them outside for me? I don’t want to go in that place if I don’t have to.”
Wyatt sighed, disappo
intment running through him. His interrogation had been cut short, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. It hadn’t occurred to him that Spider and Weston’s time was so closely monitored.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it might take a minute to coax them out.”
Kat laughed. “I’ll be here.”
Wyatt hung up and eyed Spider and Weston. They were looking quite sorry for themselves. With a grumble, Wyatt stood and grabbed both of them by the collars on their jackets and guided them to their feet.
“Where are we going?” Spider asked, sagging in Wyatt’s grip. His arms shook in an effort to keep the big men upright.
“Home,” Wyatt grit out. “Your ride’s here.”
Spider pouted.
“One more drink?” Weston asked hopefully.
“Nah, I think you’ve had enough. Next time. You can tell me more about that Dean guy.”
Weston laughed. “Oh yeah, him. Mouthy do-gooder.”
Wyatt set his jaw and tightened his grip on Weston’s jacket in an effort not to punch the man. Inadvertently, some of Weston’s t-shirt must have been caught in his fist and tightened with the move, because Weston choked as the collar pressed against his windpipe. Wyatt grinned in a savage kind of satisfaction at the sight.
But he couldn’t stay there forever, so he pushed the two men in the direction of the door. It required a lot of shoving, and apologies to the burly men they bumped into on the way to the door, but Wyatt eventually got the three of them outside with only minimal incidents.
He sucked in a deep breath of the fresh night air, a relief after the stinking bar. Spider and Weston fell against a car and propped themselves up, and Wyatt was glad this wasn’t the kind of crowd that had car alarms.
He didn’t see Kat at first. Once he did, it became obvious why he hadn’t recognised her immediately.
Instead of wearing some skimpy gold bikini, she was in jeans and a hoodie. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on her head, and her face was free of makeup. She was grinning at him, the most naturally happy expression he’d seen on her face so far. She looked like a normal person. An incredibly pretty normal person, like the kind movies would cast as the plain girl. Still gorgeous by most standards, but didn’t quite look like a supermodel.
Her new clothes also made her look extremely young.
When he’d first seen her at the party, he’d assumed she was late twenties or maybe even older. Seeing her now, he revised that estimate to mid-twenties at the most.
Even more shocking was how he responded to her. Wyatt had been attracted to Kat at their last two encounters, he couldn’t deny it. But seeing her now, looking like every man’s girl-next-door fantasy come to life made his blood rush south.
It was strange that seeing her in more clothes had this effect on him, but under the circumstances it made a twisted kind of sense. She didn’t look like man’s plaything, now. She looked like the kind of girl Wyatt would have met in his old life, maybe in a coffee shop, or at a bar much better than the one behind them. Someone he could have struck up a conversation with, not one that had been offered by her boss to fill his bed if he wanted it.
The reminder made him nauseous, and his cock wilted.
He couldn’t forget who she was—who pulled her strings. McCready as good as owned her, and Wyatt had no business lusting after a woman in that position. She deserved better.
And he had to keep himself under control, before he did something they’d both regret.
Chapter 6
“Thanks for getting them out of there,” Kat told Wyatt. Waiting in the dim parking lot as tough-looking men and women made their way in and out of the bar had been bad enough. She hadn’t wanted to go inside if she didn’t absolutely have to.
Wyatt shrugged. “No problem. Need help getting them into the car?”
“Yes, please. It’s right over there.” She gestured to the dark SUV in the next row over. It was the car McCready insisted they all use to pick up any of his men from bars because it was the easiest to clean. McCready didn’t want bodily substance to get into the interiors of his Lamborghinis, his Bugatti, or his Ferrari.
Wyatt managed to get Weston and Spider to each sling an arm over his shoulders, and then the three men stumbled in the direction of the car she’d indicated.
Kat ran ahead and opened the door, and Wyatt lifted the two men onto the raised back seat one at a time. Kat would be lying if she said she didn’t find the display of strength attractive. She licked her lips as her body warmed, glad Wyatt wasn’t looking at her. Then, to add to her problem, Wyatt leaned into the back seat and buckled them in so she wouldn’t have to. Thoughtful and safety conscious.
Not that she would mind Spider and Weston getting in a car wreck. But she would be the one who would get in trouble if it happened on her watch.
The two men immediately passed out and Kat breathed a sigh of relief. Unconscious was better than grabby or belligerent, both of which she’d dealt with when it came to these two.
“I didn’t know you were a taxi service, too.”
Kat glanced through the open back doors at Wyatt, who was eyeing her.
She looked away, keeping her voice light. “We all do it, sometimes. He generally makes the girl he’s least happy with do it.” She peeked at Wyatt using her peripheral vision to see what his reaction would be.
He was scowling at her. “Why is he unhappy with you? It’s not because of me, is it?”
She snorted. “I don’t think so. I got on his watchlist today, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
Kat’s heart melted at the concern in his voice. But she hardened herself against it. She couldn’t allow herself to get emotionally involved with this man.
“No. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in his bad books. It’s not so bad.”
Wyatt didn’t look convinced.
“I promise,” she reassured him.
Wyatt sighed and tapped his fingers against the roof of the car. As if he’d come to some kind of decision, he straightened. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but what’s keeping you here? Why don’t you leave?”
Kat hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt for Wyatt to know. “If I leave, he’ll kill my sister.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Kat nodded. “Yeah. She was the one who got into debt with him. I took her place to pay it off. So if I run, she’s the one who suffers.”
Wyatt stared at her for a long moment. “Run that by me again. What happened?”
Kat sighed and stepped away from the car. She moved around until she’d reached the hood, and climbed onto it. The metal groaned under her weight, but held well. She shouldn’t be telling him this. But again, like the night of the fight when she’d patched him up, she was delaying the inevitable return into McCready’s domain. It was a small rebellion, and a taste of freedom to tide her over until she got the real thing.
Plus, she was curious about this man. She wanted to know more about him, to see if he was as good as she was fantasising about. He wouldn’t be, there was no chance. Men always, always disappointed her. But better to know that now before she mistook her fantasies for reality and got in too deep.
Kat turned back to Wyatt and patted the seat beside her.
He came towards her, his movements slightly jerky as if he was being operated with strings. He levered himself up next to her and shuffled back until he was sitting next to her on the hood. The car dipped under their combined weight, and Kat tipped into him for a brief second, their arms brushing as they shifted to get comfortable. Goosebumps travelled over her skin where they’d touched, beneath her hoodie.
She was acutely aware of him next to her. The heat radiating from him, his subtle scent in the air. It caused her skin to tighten, her senses to tune into whatever vibe he was putting into the air.
She cleared her throat.
“Five years ago, my sister came home crying. I was in my second year of college, and home
on a break. My sister was eighteen, and tears were nothing new. But something about that night was different.”
Kat glanced over at Wyatt to see how he was taking this. He watched her with that intense focus which was always on his face when he looked at her.
Kat took a deep breath, emboldened by his apparent interest, and continued. “Turns out she and some friends had been daring each other to do increasingly dangerous stunts. I think there might have been a boy she’d been trying to impress. Anyway, they’d got caught stealing a car. Not by the police, but by the owner.”
“Let me guess, McCready?”
Kat nodded. “He agreed not to go to the police, but only if they each worked off the debt of the car’s worth. None of them wanted to go to prison, or have a criminal record, so they agreed. But they had no idea what they’d be getting into.”
“So, your sister asked you for help?”
Kat shook her head. “Not really. She was scared and ashamed. She didn’t want to tell our parents. She was meant to start college in a few months and knew it wouldn’t happen if she was in prison instead. She’d ruined her life and was devastated.”
“You offered to take her place?”
Kat nodded. “At first, I thought it’d be something easy, like washing dishes or yard work. Once McCready explained it to me—that I’d have to give up my life, live with him, and essentially prostitute myself and act like a slave…well. I couldn’t let that happen to my sister, could I?” Tears pricked her eyes at the thought. She’d been so innocent, then. They both had been.
“And you agreed anyway.”
“Yeah. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“And why didn’t you go to the police once you knew? Surely prison is better than…this.”
“By then it was too late. McCready would’ve killed my sister if I told.”
He fell silent for a moment, gaze roving over her. “Do you regret it?”
“No. If I had to do it again, I’d make the same choices even faster. I would do anything to protect my sister from this fate.”
Wyatt nodded slowly. He tilted his head up to see the stars, exposing the strong column of his throat.
Underground Fighters Trilogy Boxed Set Page 34
