“Earlier. The women.”
“No.” Dave paused an instant. “I know you weren’t encouraging them.”
Christian frowned. That should have been the end of it, but something in Dave’s voice wasn’t sitting right. “You were right there. You saw.”
Dave gave a noncommittal little nod. “I know.”
It still didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know why. Dave wouldn’t lie—Christian knew that like he knew how to land a punch—but something was wrong. It felt like a loose stitch in a boot he wore every damn day. Nothing torn yet, but if he picked at it, the whole thing might come apart. He couldn’t risk that, so he let it be and looked around instead.
“Hit one more bar on the way back?” he suggested. “But let’s not kid ourselves—no one’s going to give up a secret just because I’ve got nice arms.”
“I mean, they might,” Dave said. “But probably not twice in one night.”
Christian grinned, and the tension eased a little.
“C’mon,” he said, tossing a couple of bills on the bar. “Let’s call it.”
As they headed out into the night, he caught a glimpse of himself in the dark glass of the bar’s window. He looked the way he always did—all swagger and bite, like the world could throw whatever it wanted at him and he’d just spit it back. But he didn’t feel that way tonight.
Tomorrow, he’d have a chance to let some of this shit out. Tomorrow, he’d fight.
Tonight, though, he was just a little too aware that the one person who could see through his bullshit wasn’t saying much at all.
* * *
Dave did up his seatbelt as Christian pulled out onto the street. Christian always drove, and Dave always let him.
“We should’ve checked what the cover charge is tomorrow,” Dave said. “If it’s sky-high, we’d do better to hang around outside, get talking to people that way. I know Matt’ll cover us if we need it—”
“Yeah, but we don’t need him to,” Christian said.
Dave glanced at him. “Why not?”
Christian took the turn a little too fast, anticipation burning through him. “I’ve got a plan.”
“A plan?”
“One that gets us through the door without paying.”
It took Dave an instant to understand.
“Christian.”
No reason for Dave to sound so disappointed—what had he thought was going to happen?
“While I’m fighting, you get to talk to people and see what they know. Depending what cut the winners get, we might end the night with a profit.” He put his foot down to get through the light before it changed.
“Or in a hospital.”
Christian snorted. “Yeah, right. Haven’t met the shifter yet who can put me down.” Except maybe Matt, but that was because he was an alpha. And possibly Karl, only Christian wasn’t suicidal. Anyway, they were his pack—he wouldn’t fight to the death with them the way he would anyone else.
Heat sparked low in his belly at the thought of finally unleashing his strength and speed. It had been too long since he’d been allowed to be what he was built for. Too long holding back for the sake of pack unity, or politics, or peace. He needed to cut loose awhile and to get out of him all the things that had been building since Tristan had been snatched by Cale’s pack.
Deep fury still burned in Christian that he’d been denied revenge on Cale for hurting one of their own. Tristan hadn’t been badly hurt as it happened, because fucking Colby Williams had gotten himself out from under a whole pile of abuse and rescued him.
But that didn’t matter. Christian wanted someone to pay for every scratch, every second Tristan had been held against his will, scared and alone. He was just akid. And kids were supposed to be protected. Didn’t matter that he’d gotten out in the end—someone should have protected him.
Matt letting Williams stay in Elk Ridge hadn’t helped, because he was a constant reminder of Cale’s pack. Of what had happened to Tristan, young, trusting, and so damn naïve ithurt.And he couldn’t take it out of Williams’ hide—each time he tried to start something, Williams rolled over in submission, ready to accept his punishment. And Christianneverbeat down on someone who wouldn’t or couldn’t fight back. Even if every time he looked at Williams, he wanted to punch him.
