Rick

 

When Rick snapped out of his daze he was more confused than ever. The dream had seemed so real. He reached out as if he could touch her. Once his eyes adjusted, a sense of disappointment washed over him. It was as if his home wasn’t the right home. Where he was, and who he was, wasn’t real at all. He didn’t know who she was, but she made him homesick for a life he didn’t even know existed. Then there was the scent. He was positive he had smelled the same scent from the beach.

The ambiance of his dream soon lifted and he was left feeling lonely. Rick decided to forego trying to fall back asleep and made his way to his coffee maker. The late hours at the bar had his sleep schedule off. What was a normal waking hour to most was the middle of the night to him. A quick glance at his phone told him it was almost eleven. They would be opening the bar soon for the lunch crowd.

His apartment wasn’t fancy, but it had everything he needed. Being a studio came in handy because he rarely misplaced anything. It also gave him room to shift into his bear form right there in his living room. When he couldn’t find time to go roam in his bear form, he would at least shift and drift to sleep there in his home. He thought about doing just that now, but decided against it. The migraines always seemed to strike when he was in his bear form.

He paced his apartment for a while. He felt haunted. For the first time in over twenty years, his thoughts turned to Rachel. The woman he thought was his mate. She had been a trickster. A chameleon filled with voodoo that had led him down a wicked path. He wasn’t sure now how he had managed to get himself away from her. As his thoughts turned to the life he felt he was forgetting, another migraine attacked him.

Rick tried to shake it off before it could take hold. He changed his thoughts to the bar, and decided to go down and help open. He was amazed that his redirection had helped ward off the pending migraine. The migraines felt like a sign, a bad omen of something to come. Rick could feel it in the change of his bear, and the weird dreams. He just hoped he would be strong enough to handle the evil when it decided to show itself.

“Rick, you want to go down to see the new fight club that just started?” Steve asked after they finished closing for the night.

“What’s an old fart like me going to do at a fight club?” Rick scoffed.

“You still got a lot of fight left in you. Just come check it out with me.”

“Fine. Let me go change my clothes.”

Rick ran up to his apartment and quickly changed. His skin was prickling already at the thought of being around shifters fighting. He was giddy with anticipation, and a bit worried. Being so close to going feral, he just hoped the fights wouldn’t set him off. Steve was waiting for him at his truck when he descended his apartment stairs.

The fight club was just a short ride down the strip. A bar much bigger than Rick’s housed the entire thing in an underground basement.

“Clever idea,” Rick commented as they rode the elevator down.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Or in this case, where there’s money to be made, there’s a way,” Steve laughed.

As they stepped off the elevator, the roar of the already growing crowds consumed Rick. They circled several fights until he landed on one that was two bears. He stood in silence watching them crash against each other over and over again. His bear was itching for a fight, but Rick tried to keep the urge suppressed. Steve came up next to him and slapped him on the back, causing Rick to jump defensively. “See, I told you. You still have some fight in there!” Steve yelled over the roar of the crowds. “I’m going in down here in about an hour against a jaguar,” Steve called again, throwing his head to one of the pits on the far side.

“Be careful with jaguars, they tend to hug the outside of the pit and attack from the side,” Rick blurted out.

Steve eyed him carefully. “Good to know. You do a lot of underground fighting?” Steve asked.

“No. I don’t remember. It just… I’m not sure, but just watch it, okay?”

Steve shrugged and jogged off. Rick felt a migraine building up. His bear was pushing forward, wanting to fight. The pit judge from the pit in front of him blew the whistle. Then he made an announcement that a fighter had backed down. They needed a fill-in. Without even thinking, Rick raised his hand and stepped forward. The judge gave him a nod and pointed to the bench.

Rick walked over and disrobed slowly. His mind was all over the place, but his bear’s mind was on the fight. Rick shifted and just prayed he wouldn’t go feral at the first smell of blood. He looked across the pit and a giant wolf was pacing back and forth. Wolves were tenacious when they fought. Their instinct was to fight as a pack, unlike a bear, which is used to fighting alone. Rick wouldn’t underestimate the wolf, though.

The pit judge blew his whistle and he and the wolf paced around each other. The wolf snarled and snapped his teeth. Rick did nothing but watch. One good thing that came with age was patience. The wolf lunged but Rick swatted his opponent away with ease. The wolf landed with a thump, but quickly regained his feet. Rick circled him, and waited. There was no pride in attacking a shifter while he was down. The wolf shook himself off and then immediately launched another attack. Rick let him get within reach, and then clasped the wolf in between his giant paws and squeezed.

The wolf cried out. Rick should have stopped but it felt good to feel the shifter cry out in pain under his own touch. The pit judge took a step into the ring, and Rick dropped the wolf. The wolf scooted itself back but soon righted himself once again. Rick went on the offensive this time. He went at the wolf and swiped his giant paw out to connect with the wolf’s throat. The wolf ducked, though, sending Rick falling forward a bit. Then the wolf lunged up and went for Rick’s throat. Rick rolled to his back, averting the blow.

The wolf climbed on top of Rick, teeth bared, ready to go for the finishing blow. Rick swatted the wolf with his paw and sent the wolf flying out of the pit and up against a wall. The pit judge blew his whistle but Rick didn’t care. His bear wanted the win. He wanted to deliver the fight-ending blow. The wolf had just regained his feet when Rick stood on his hind legs and let out a roar that shook the floor.

Then he lifted the wolf up and sunk his teeth just a bit too hard into the wolf’s throat. The wolf whimpered and squirmed, which called to Rick’s bear to bite harder. The pit judge was blowing the whistle, and silence had descended in the room. Rick pulled his bear back into check and released the wolf, stumbling back.

“Get out of here, asshole! Learn the rules and get your shit under control before you ever come back here again!” the pit judge yelled.

Rick shifted and hurried to grab his clothes. He didn’t even bother searching for Steve as he ran to the elevator. Once he was inside, he sunk to the ground and buried his head in his hands. Rick knew he had been seconds away from crushing that young wolf shifter’s throat. The worst part was that his bear was pissed that Rick had stopped him. The pit judge had told him to get his shit together before coming back. Rick knew he would never be back.