She was in this, no matter what.
Torren pulled her against him and kissed her quick. It was two fast dips of his tongue into her mouth and a nip to her bottom lip that left her panting and needy. As he pulled away, he slid something into her hand, and when she looked down, it was a stack of twenty-dollar bills. He held her gaze for a moment more before he turned toward the two men standing in front of the Mustang.
“Which one of you?” Torren asked.
“Me,” the tank of a man in front said. “I’m Colt Caraway.” He waited a few seconds with his eyebrows lifted like Torren should know the name. He had burred hair and scars down one side of his face. Teeth marks from the looks of it. A lot of them. He reeked of dominance. His eyes were glowing blue as he dragged his attention down her body and back up. “Which one of you?” he asked with a smirk.
“She’s mine,” Torren said coolly. He stretched his neck, popping it, one way and then the other. “You’ll be mine, too.”
“We’ll see, HavoK. You can’t go undefeated forever, you know. You ain’t invincible. Someday, someone is gonna come along and knock you on your ass. Maybe today is that day. Maybe I’m supposed to be the new Kong.”
Torren was already walking toward the sawmill though, peeling off his shirt as he went. His giant birthmark was stark against his pale skin in the moonlight. That was the best “fuck you” he could’ve given Colt, and Candace pursed her lips against a smile.
A snarl rippled up the man’s throat, and he followed Torren across the parking lot and inside.
“I’m Dax. Are you HavoK’s manager?” the other man asked. He was shorter, but still built like a Mack truck. His eyes were softer, but he still smelled of fur.
“No. I’m just a witness,” she murmured.
He gestured to the money in her hand. “Not anymore, little girl.”
“Careful with that term,” she popped off, barely containing the hiss in her throat. She hated to be put beneath people. “Where’s his money?”
“You need to see it?” Dax asked, looking irritated.
“Did I stutter? I don’t know you, and I sure as fuck don’t know him. You want this fight? Show me his money, and we can let those boys loose. HavoK won’t start without me in there.” She hoped.
“Mmmm,” Dax rumbled. Definitely a silverback shifter. He waited a few too many seconds to be polite, looking down his nose at her, and then he pulled a wad of rolled cash out of his back pocket. “You want to count it, too?”
She could really use less of his sarcasm. Already she wanted to let her tiger have him.
“Ha, I think if you shorted us, the real Kong would rip your throat out. I don’t trust you, but I think you like survival. Let’s go.”
“What are you?” he asked from behind her as she led him to the sawmill.
She turned to face him but didn’t stop walking. He was holding up his phone like he was taking video. Hands out, she said, “I’m just a little girl.” Fucker.
“I think you’re his manager. You just don’t know it yet. What’s your name?”
She was smart enough not to give away anything on video. Candace turned back around and reached for the splintered door handle. “Maybe I’m the real HavoK.” He was only getting the dead voice from her because he was a part of what was about to get Torren hurt.
Inside, a trio of hanging lightbulbs lit up the sawmill with a dim glow. It was an enormous room with stairs against the back wall leading to an office on the second floor with a massive, broken picture window that separated it from the rest of the mill. The walls were made of old logs, gone gray and warped with age. The floor was covered in piles of saw dust. Old machines with rusted blades and saws lined the perimeter of the room. There were deep divots in the floors as though the saws had been shoved to their resting places by force. It smelled of oil and sawdust, dominance, fur…blood. Lots of blood.
The clearing in the center of the room was stained dark. She had to force the snarl in her throat to stay quiet. Her big cat was getting riled up…bloodlust maybe…or maybe she was feeling protective. How much of this was Torren’s blood? God, he had to do this, right? To keep steady? To keep his animal from going insane, he had to bleed? She wanted to retch.
Candace paused at the edge of the makeshift ring where Dax took a stand beside her. Annoying. She wished he would go over there, on the other side, with his fighter.
Across the room, Colt was stripping down, attention on Torren, who was sitting on a rickety old bench against the wall, elbows resting on his knees, hands clenched, teeth gritted. He lifted his roiling gaze to her. Everything okay? his eyes seemed to ask. She nodded once.
“Colt needs this win,” Dax said. “He needs a family group. Do you know what Torren has done to the gorillas?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t want him to know how little she knew about Torren’s culture.
“He probably wouldn’t have told you how he betrayed our people, huh? No one wants to admit when they’re the downfall of an entire shifter race. His betrayal started with his father and continued with him.”
“There are two sides to every story,” she gritted out, eyes on Torren as he shucked his pants, eyes on the bloody floor. He was masculinity and power in just his briefs, every muscle flexed.
“True. So listen to the other side. The Kong should run our people. He should be making the next generation. He should be heading up the biggest family group of females. It’s an easy life. Be born with the mark, grow dominant, have all the sex you want. Be. King. His father shunned his duty, and Torren did, too. At eighteen, he was offered the throne, and what did he do? Denied it, threw our people into chaos looking for a new Kong. There isn’t one, though. The tradition of the Kong was wrecked by Torren’s father and destroyed completely by Torren. And then he did something unforgiveable. When our people wanted vengeance against Red Havoc, he went to war against us—his own people.”
“You went after the crew with his sister in it. What did you expect to happen?”
“He betrayed all of his people for one female.”