~

 

“What the hell was bowie thinking?” Rayner demanded as she slammed the bedroom door closed and turned toward her mate who was already lying in bed with a strained look upon his face that wasn’t his usual attitude once they were alone together.

“I’m thinking that he wasn’t thinking — pride, ego, and his beast was writing the cheques tonight,” Dane growled back.

Rayner grumbled and growled as she started to yank her clothes from her body, tossing them this way and that, before she climbed onto the bed and threw herself down beside her mate.

“Well, that’s just great,” Rayner grumbled. “How good is Colt anyway, like really?”

“You mean can the man fight?”

“No, I was wondering how good he was in bed,” Rayner shot back, sarcasm dripping from her tone, but Dane didn’t appreciate it.

“Rayner,” Dane growled the warning.

Just that thought in his head, Rayner and Colt together in bed, was enough to send his beast clawing within him to be set free. Even he had an urge to go and rip Colt’s head off now.

“Can he beat Bowie?” Rayner asked.

“I don’t know,” Dane offered back the truth of it. “The last time those two went head-to-head, Colt cheated and Bowie paid the price. This time, Bowie won’t let that happen.”

“And there’s no way to call this fight off?” Rayner asked.

“No. The challenge was issued and accepted,” Dane growled.

“Damn your stupid, crazy brother.”

Rayner was angry at Bowie for being so damn stupid. She was angry at Dane for not being able to do anything about it. But, she was even angrier with herself for bringing Colt into their lives.

“If I had money for every time I’d said that then I’d be able to pay off Bowie’s debt to Bute, and properly more besides,” Dane bit out a chuckle.

“What if something happened to Bowie before the fight?” Rayner asked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know — what if I ripped off one of his arms?”

“Nice thought, but I don’t think it’s going to work,” Dane chuckled again.

“Something has to. I did this,” Rayner said.

“Bowie did this.”

“Yeah, but I started this,” Rayner shot back.

“Well then, if that’s the way you feel, let’s hope that Bowie can finish this,” Dane said.

He didn’t want his mate to feel guilty over Bowie’s actions. Things happened, people came into your life that you couldn’t foresee, and she couldn’t blame herself for Colt’s reappearance in theirs.

He didn’t think that she would was ready to listen to that argument, not while it was fresh on her mind, and not while her emotions were at play. He could feel those emotions rolling from her like waves.

Maybe in the cold light of day she would see things differently — see things how they were — the fact that Bowie was a law unto himself and did really stupid things on a regular basis. But for tonight, he knew she wasn’t going to listen to anything he had to say to try to ease her sense of irrational guilt.

 

~

~

~

 

“So, is that what this is, you have a death wish?” Mitzi demanded as she stood at the entrance to the run down cabin that Bowie had been using as a home since she’d arrived and he’d given up his.

“I don’t have a death wish,” Bowie grumbled.

He’d heard her approach the cabin and he’d pushed up to his feet as he considered ducking out the back, but what kind of a man would that make him?

Bowie knew that he needed to let her have her say, it was only right. He just never expected her to lead with that damn question.

“See, you say those words and I have the urge to say liar, liar, ass on fire,” Mitzi tossed back.

Bowie grimaced at his mate’s words. On so many levels she was right, but then there was a little voice in the back of Bowie’s brain that was screaming to be heard across the white noise of what he knew he had to do.

That little voice wanted to be alive, wanted to be a mate, and it was damn annoying. Almost as annoying as his damn bear – the beast was clawing at the injustice of not being allowed its say.

“You should leave,” Bowie grumbled.

“I should?” She spat out on a chuckle of disbelief. “I should leave?” She said again.

“It’s not a good time,” Bowie offered back, he couldn’t quite lift his gaze to hers for fear of what he would see. She’d already caught him out once, he didn’t want her to do it again.

“Oh, I’m sorry — should I arrange an appointment to see you?” She bit out in annoyance.

“You don’t need…”

“I wouldn’t want to cramp the pity party that you’re having here for yourself.”

Bowie’s gaze snapped up to hers. He saw the anger, the outright disbelief that she packed into a dark glare, and he couldn’t blame her.

“I have to…” He wanted to explain, but how the hell did he? So, he gave up trying.

It was better that she hated him. It was better that she was disgusted with his actions, that she despised him.

It was no less than he deserved.

“Risk your life? Where does it say that on the tin?” She snapped back at him.

“He threw out the challenge,” Bowie said, pulling his gaze from hers before he got lost in her eyes.

It didn’t matter that she was pissed off at him. It didn’t matter that her eyes were flashing anger and betrayal — all that mattered was that she was looking at him. Him, crazy bear, and she might not have liked what she saw, or understood it, but still, he liked that she was looking at him.

“I get that. I do. But I also know that you have no intention of claiming me as your mate.” Her voice might have been lower, but there was an underlying growl that rumbled along with her words.

“I don’t want to talk about this now,” Bowie said. He couldn’t risk his emotions getting the better of him in any way.

“Okay, I’ll come back in five minutes — will you be ready to talk about it then?” Mitzi demanded.

“No.”

“Ten minutes?”

“No.”

“Half an hour — an hour — two hours…?”

“Mitzi…” Bowie growled.

“Don’t growl at me, don’t Mitzi me, don’t lie to me,” she bit out in annoyance and frustration that the man could be so offhand about the whole thing.

“I wasn’t growling at you,” Bowie said with a small shake of his head.

“And the lying part?”

“I can’t be a mate to you,” Bowie bit out.

“Wow, when they say the truth hurts they weren’t lying,” Mitzi said, even as she turned on her heels and started away from the cabin.

By the time that Mitzi realised there were footsteps behind her, it was already too late. Two large hands grabbed her upper arms, and she was yanked backward into a solid chest packed with muscles.

Fear, hurt, frustration, betrayal, anger all ran through her in a mad rush of emotion that was overwhelming by its magnitude. She’d never felt anything like it before.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bowie whispered against her ear.

The fear that she’d felt flew away at the knowledge that it was Bowie and not some crazed lunatic that had hold of her. All the other emotions stayed, and were met with a barrage of new ones, excitement, need, desire hit her head on and she had no clue of how to deal with what she was feeling.

“Too late,” Mitzi tossed back.

“I can’t be the man you need,” Bowie said.

“Maybe, maybe not, but you can be the man that I want. You already are.”

Mitzi’s words played ping-pong in his brain for a long moment. It felt like cruelty of the worst kind to him, hearing those words when he could do nothing about them was like torture.

Bowie wanted to shift and kill something, run for the hills and never stop, but at the same time – he wanted her – wanted her so damn much that it was killing him inside.