To Yank a Tiger by the Tail

by Bobbi Romans

  “Tomorrow.”

  “And you’re just now calling?” Zhara shrieked, garnering the attention of a few elderly folks passing by.

  “I thought the deadline was next month. I happened to pull out the form and noticed the date. I freaked out. I’ve called to ask if your signature has to be present, and the clerk said yes. Now you have me worried. What do you mean something happened?”

  Zhara glanced around. She didn’t really want to get into it with Charisma out in the open like this, and when she peeped behind her she saw the redhead flailing her arms about in an aggravated manner. Starl had rescued her when she’d needed a bit of help. Now was her chance to repay that favor, as she doubted she’d ever see him again.

  “You still in between jobs?” Zhara asked as an idea formed.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I’m hiring you,” she announced.

  “What?” Charisma sounded confused but intrigued.

  “I want to hire you to come pick me up. Bring your paperwork, and while you drive down I’ll find a place where we can get it notarized and faxed over.”

  “Oh, yay, that sounds perfect. Give me some directions and I’ll hit the road now. It’s about what? A five-hour drive?”

  “Yes, so in order to get here and have me sign and fax the papers back, you need to hit the road.”

  Zhara shot off the directions and returned inside the diner. She owed Starl a rescue.

  Maxine’s nasally whine rose above all other voices in the diner, and Zhara saw the angry yet contained lines creasing Starl’s face.

  “Hi, honey, what’d I miss?” Zhara belted out, coming around to plant a big kiss on a shocked Starl’s lips. “You going to introduce me to your friend?” She plopped down in his lap and fought the giggles when Maxine went slack-jawed and her eyes went satanic red.

  Chapter Eight

  “Who is she?” Maxine all but snarled.

  “His new friend. And you are, an old one?” Zhara asked, putting extra saccharine in her voice.

  “Why, you little…” Before Maxine finished her statement, an older, white-haired short order cook came out, chastising Maxine for her tone and alerting her they wanted no trouble for their paying clientele. Zhara assumed Maxine had a habit for causing drama.

  “Fine. But this isn’t over. I’ll be seeing you around, sweetie,” Maxine threatened on her way out. The bells over the door jingled furiously as the door hit the wall before the catch caught and began slowly closing.

  Zhara had no intention of telling her she doubted they’d run into each other again. If they did, Maxine would get taught a thing or two regarding respect. Oh, yeah, would she ever.

  “Sorry about that. Maxine and I go way back, and she simply doesn’t take a hint,” Starl offered.

  “One-night stand gone bad?” Zhara half teased.

  “Something like that. Anyhow, thanks for the save.”

  “Returning the favor.” She climbed off Starl’s lap and took her own seat to finish the scrumptious brunch before her. Thirty minutes later, Starl offered to run her to his house to use the phone to track down the places she’d need to hit when Charisma arrived.

  His place sat solitary in the woods. Nothing else was around, and though she should be concerned, Starl had proven himself the gentleman.

  Once she’d found a notary and a public fax machine, she toyed with the idea of calling Dax back. Which also meant admitting she’d overreacted, and while she didn’t have a problem with coming clean, she feared what Dax thought of her reaction. And lord only knew what his family’s view of her had become as a result.

  “He’ll be pissed, but if I were him, to be with you, I’d get over it quick-like.” Starl gave her a meaningful smile.

  Zhara nibbled her lip nervously. She punched in Dax’s number. No answer, and she chickened out on leaving a message.

  “He’ll come around. He fucks up, though, I want you to know, I’m interested.” Starl’s smile melted away. In its place a dark hunger lurked that left her shivering.

  “You’ve been wonderful to me, and there’s a girl—not Maxine—who you’re going to make really happy.”

  “But it won’t be you,” Starl finished.

  “No. My life is with Dax, I hope. If he’ll still have me.”

  Starl barked out a laugh. “Oh, he’ll have you. Shifters don’t let go of their mates. Not ever, sweetie. Once you commit, that’s it. You’re his.”

  Dax had alluded to such. He’d explained about shifters. Everything from their stamina to their sexual appetites and, yep, even the whole mating and marking bit.

  Hours later, when Dax still wasn’t picking up, Starl suggested they ride out to Dax’s parents’ place. Swallowing her nerves, Zhara agreed. She had to know what was going on.

  Over the course of the afternoon, Starl had explained about Sparrow. How she’d never reclaimed her status, as she’d put it, when both the Markson boys rejected her. Sure, Dax had only done so after being betrayed, but in her mind, she’d still been the one rejected.

  Starl went so far as to apologize for his sister’s antics at the Markson home.

  Zhara believed him.

  Just as they approached the rough-neck bar they’d passed on the way to Starl’s, Starl’s cell went off. She only caught one side of the conversation, but his comments were enough for her to understand someone needed to meet with him. Now.

  “Sorry about this, but I need to make a quick stop at the Crow Bar. A buddy of mine is in town, and he’s got information about a deal we’ve been working on together.”

  “You’re going to meet in bar about a deal?” She didn’t mean to come off as rude, but the bar she’d seen, even from the outside, looked pretty rowdy.

  “Yeah. He has another appointment and is heading out of town later tonight. Shouldn’t take that long. The Crow serves a mean steak. Why don’t you grab a bite of dinner while my buddy and I talk some quick business?”

  Food, food and more food. The trip was to have been about love and romance, not fat grams and an expanding ass. Sadly, Starl was her ride, and he’d already given up several days to aid in her problem. The least she could do was have another meal while he did some business.

  They pulled into the gravel parking lot of the wooden-front, saloon style bar. Anchored across its front stood a bright neon sign which consisted of two crossed crow bars with a black crow bird, perched between the occasional blink of the lights. A strange apprehension slithered within, and she wasn’t sure if it was from all the bikes lining the front of the bar or something else.

  Thankfully, Starl had chosen to take his pickup rather than his bike for their trip to the Marksons’, and she had no doubt Starl could hold his own in such a place, but her gut nagged there’d be problems tonight. Zhara prayed the dark cloud she predicted hung over the bar and not over her impending meeting with Dax. What if Starl was wrong? What if Dax decided she was too much of a drama queen for his liking? Sparrow hadn’t turned up anywhere. Zhara worried Sparrow was still out at the Marksons’, sinking her scheming claws into Dax as they were about to enter a damn bar.

  Arggh. The wait would drive her insane.

  The bar, as she’d guessed, smelled of booze and bad body odor. Surprisingly, she discovered many plain clothed locals inhabiting the place as well as leather or denim clad bikers. For every black-leather, steel-lined jacket sat someone dressed in everyday clothes. Mingled together were young and old alike.

  Her mother’s words, “never judge a book by its cover” rang in her memory.

  Starl maneuvered them through the crowd, past the large wooden dance floor—which, based on the weathered scuff marks, had seen many a honky-tonk—to a booth in the corner. She caught him motioning over a man who screamed out of place. His khaki pants and Hawaiian shirt made her wonder if his name was Magnum and his car a red Ferrari.

  Starl stood to greet his friend. “Yo, Ben. How you been, you old fool.” A couple whacks on each other’s backs and the man ritual ended. “Ben, let me intro
duce you to Zhara, a, uh, friend of mine. Zhara, this is Ben, an old friend and soon-to-be business associate, I hope.”

  Zhara shook the proffered hand as Starl slid into the booth next to her.

  “I just need your John Hancock on a few forms before I head back to Tallahassee to meet up with the client,” Ben said.

  Zhara watched as Ben withdrew two folded papers from the pocket on his shirt. She hoped if their venture did take off, whatever it was, eventually the man would splurge and buy himself a briefcase.

  Starl pored over the documents, signed, and pushed the papers back over to Ben. The two men shook hands, and Ben excused himself back to his table long enough to pay his tab. Zhara glanced at her watch and realized heading the rest of the way to the Markson home would be counterproductive to Charisma’s fax needs.

  “Ready to leave?”

  “I’d love to say yes, but sadly, Charisma, the friend I mentioned, will probably be calling any second. Thankfully I found a mailing place here in town that not only has a public fax but also a night clerk who’s a notary.”

  “Want to order the steak I mentioned?” he suggested.

  “Sure.” The directions to the mailing place included the name of the Crow Bar. Both places were on the main road and only a short distance from one another.

  “Dinner it is.”

  “And what can I do you two for?” A woman, whom Zhara would describe as having seen better days asked. Her face showed the hard lines of a life roughly lived, but potentially well lived if the creases to the sides of her mouth were an indication of laughter.

  “Hey, Polls. I’ll take a steak, rare, new potatoes, and a bourbon. Double.”

  When their waitress nodded and stopped writing to glance at her, Zhara simply repeated what Starl had ordered, with the exception of the bourbon. Instead she asked for a diet Coke. She intended to keep her head on straight tonight in the hope Dax would give her the time of day.

  They were about halfway done eating when Zhara decided to check her cell and, right on cue, it vibrated with a text from Charisma that she’d rolled into town. A quick text back let Charisma know where to find them. Zhara polished off her meal and readied for her friend’s arrival.

  “Must be a good friend if you’re willing to again, postpone getting to Dax,” Starl commented shooting back his third bourbon.

  “Yeah, she is. She was in a bad spot not long ago. Deadbeat boyfriend really did a number on her.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, but being with Starl seemed to hit the honest buttons in her.

  “Hope the ass got what was coming to him.”

  “Sadly not. He had a friend on the force who kept him from going to jail like he deserved, but he wasn’t enough of a friend to sway a judge from granting a restraining order. She’s coming here to get me to sign as one of her witnesses to obtain a lifetime judgment against him.”

  “Ah. Yes, I can see how that takes precedence over your impending reunion.”

  Zhara sighed. Though she was doing the right thing, everything still sucked ass.

  By the catcalls and whistles which erupted in the joint, Zhara didn’t need to turn to know Charisma had arrived. Her colorful friend always brought men buzzing around like bees to honey wherever she went. Sadly, they were always the wrong kind of men.

  She waved Charisma over and stood, bracing herself for one of Charisma’s famous bear hugs.

  “Oh, sweetie I’m so happy to see you but, uh...he’s not Dax,” Charisma pointedly stated, staring in open appreciation of Starl.

  “No, I’m Starl, a um, new friend.” Starl, who’d stood upon Charisma’s arrival, towered over her and offered her his seat, coming to sit next to Zhara again.

  Zhara rolled her eyes as Charisma all but drooled over Starl.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Charisma stated, wagging her brows at Zhara when Starl’s attention was drawn across the bar momentarily. Charisma mouthed “wow” in her direction.

  Oh, good lord. All she wanted was to get back to Dax and make up. Discover if all those stories were true about make-up sex being off the charts. Instead, a direct hook-up seemed to be setting itself up right before her.

  “Let’s get those papers signed and cruise down the road to the mailing place. We can actually walk there.” She pivoted in her seat to face Starl. Thank him for all he’d done for her and cut him free. Charisma could drive her to the Marksons’ and, if need be, drive her home as well.

  “Pleasure was all mine. I’m glad I was able to help a damsel in distress.”

  “He said damsel.” Charisma all but swooned, going glassy-eyed over Starl.

  “Well, you were a lifesaver. I truly appreciate it. If you’re ever in New York…” Zhara trailed off, knowing full well the offers’s foul taste had to do with the lie. No, two alphas like Dax and Starl wouldn’t do well in the same room. Not with Starl being the one she’d ended up with in this misunderstanding. Wouldn’t matter that nothing had happened. He was Sparrow’s brother, and Zhara had stayed the night with him and his crew.

  Yeah, meeting up for a tour of New York would be out of the question.

  “Take care of yourself, Starl.” She leaned over with the intention of kissing his cheek, but Charisma bumped the table as she tried to stand and their lips met.

  “Get your filthy fucking hands off her.”

  And all hell broke loose.

  Chapter Nine

  Halfway back to the farm, Dax’s cell buzzed. He’d left it charging on Fin’s car charger as he’d forgotten to the night before.

  “Yeah, this is Dax.”

  “Dax, you might not remember me, but this is Maxine Carver.”

  “Yes, I think we went to fifth grade together.” Dax remembered the boisterous woman and wondered why she’d be calling him. He’d run into her on and off over the years in town, but neither said more than a hello in passing. He thought he remembered her being Sparrow’s running mate. “How can I help you?”

  “Well, the rumor mills spoke of you and your mate having a falling out.”

  “If you’re baiting me, I’ll bite, but I won’t be toyed with. Spit it out.” He was in no mood for any games, especially ones his ex might be behind.

  “Well, in the event you’re searching for her, she’s down at the Crow Bar locking lips with her new mate, Starl. You remember, Sparrow’s older brother.”

  Maxine hung up before he could ask anything else. Though her words screamed set up, he had to check for himself. Find proof of Maxine’s nasty accusation.

  “Turn around, Fin,” he barked, already making fists.

  “Why?”

  “Damn it, just do it. Please.” Relief washed over him when Fin altered their course without further explanation. If he’d had to repeat the painful words uttered to him, he’d probably have shifted and charged the entire way to the bar.

  The truck barely came to stop in front of the bar before Dax leapt out and stormed through the door. He pushed his way past several drunks littering the doorway and froze when his gaze found Zhara lip-locked with Starl.

  His vision went red and beads of sweat built along his hairline. Sounds drowned to mere echoes as his world went into slow motion. He vaguely recognized the screamed threat that came from him. Somewhere behind him, his name was being called.

  His world returned to focus as sounds of bone meeting bone crunched in his ears. Something wet coated his knuckles as well as leaking from the corners of his mouth. Flashes of denim and black caught his sights as mobs of men jumped into the fray. Dax recognized Fin’s battle cry when he too flew into the mix. In the midst of the madness, and while fighting to keep his tiger caged, he heard the tears.

  The fear flowing from Zhara chocked him. She’d been seized in a moment of panic but as fast as her emotion slammed him, outrage entered just as quickly.

  “Quit this fucked-up shit right now!”

  The voice that bellowed the command took control of the room. In the momentary pause the demand created, Zhara stood on a table and hissed
for everyone to calm the fuck down.

  He’d never seen his mate this pissed. She’d stolen control of the situation and didn’t appear to have any plans of giving it back. Dax caught the bemused look of several bikers who stood in appreciation of the African queen whose beauty stilled the raging beasts before her.

  His Zhara had proven herself an Alpha capable of handling any situation thrust in her direction, including her mate’s crazy family.

  Bouncers from all corners of the bar began kicking some of the rowdier bunch out while telling others to take their seats—drinks were on the house—or else leave.

  Dax stared at Starl, whose eyes were beginning to swell now as badly as Dax suspected his were. Blood dripped from Starl’s fat lip as it did from the man’s battered knuckles.

  Yeah, Starl would be hurting bad tomorrow.

  Dax silently admitted he’d be aching as well, and hoped from his physical wounds and not forthcoming emotional ones.

  *****

  Zhara had no idea where any of what she’d done had come from. Maybe she’d kept more bottled up than she ever realized. All she understood was the need to stop the men from fighting. Both Dax and Starl. The others—well, most probably fought nightly for fun.

  Her only concern had been getting her guys to stop.

  Charisma too appeared stunned, but pissy when all hell erupted. Though normally Charisma would have been an “out the back door” kind of girl, not wanting to dare chance the weave she spent a fortune on, this time she’d seemed ready to jump into the melee if Zhara asked her to.

  Once most of the patrons had taken their seats, Zhara glared at both of her guys and pointed to the booth they’d occupied earlier.

  “Sit. Now.” She knew her expression told both they’d better not argue about it.

  She caught Fin out of the corner of her eye nodding toward the bar. She lifted her chin slightly to indicate he wasn’t part of her “sit” orders. No doubt Dax’s brother would hate her for the rest of her days, but she didn’t give a damn at the moment.