Racing The Beast (Dirt Track Dogs #2) (4 page)

He wrapped an arm around her before his words could even register. What the hell was happening here?

“Surge,” Beast snapped. “Back. Off.”

But he didn’t listen. The man didn’t listen. He just laughed a crazy cackling sound.

Before she could think twice about what she was doing, she jerked her elbow back, catching him hard just under the ribs where his soft organs were. But that wasn’t enough. She twisted out of his arms, bringing her good knee up landing a shattering hit to his groin. He groaned and doubled over, and that’s when she tangled her fingers in his hair to smash his face against her knee.

She heard the commotion and the cursing all around, but all she focused on was the threat in front of her. She’d stop if he was ready to keep his hands to himself.

He held his bloody nose, his legs squeezed together, staring up at her. “Damn, girl. What was that for?”

“You don’t touch me,” she breathed, just now noticing the pain in her broken leg. “None of you touch me. Understand?”

She looked around the room. Beast and a man with short dark hair stood looking at her in horror.

“Yeah, shit,” the man she’d attacked—Surge—straightened, wincing in pain. “I understand. No touching. Got it. Can I breathe around you? Is that okay?”

Punk looked around again. None of them were coming at her. Fuck on a beach, she’d overreacted. They’d brought her into their home to help her, and she’d beat the shit out of one of them. But… they had to keep their hands to themselves. They had to… had to… she had to teach them the boundaries.

Beast inched closer. “It’s okay,” he said, keeping his voice low. As if he was talking to a wounded animal. He bent, picking up her crutches and handed them to her.

She took them and met his eyes, pleading with him to understand. She needed someone to just… get it.
I’m
sorry
.

He grinned.
Grinned
. “Damn, Surge. When the lady says she doesn’t need help, she fucking means it.”

The man standing by the couch laughed. Then laughed some more. He grabbed his belly and doubled over, hooting and hollering and pointing at Surge. “You got your ass kicked by a hu—” He shook his head. “By a gir—” He stopped again, laughing some more. “By a chick with one bad leg.”

Surge surprised her by chuckling.

Punk took a deep shaky breath. “In his defense…” She cleared her throat to get rid of the shaking in her voice. “He didn’t exactly fight back.”

Surge nodded. “Yeah. What she said.”

The door opened and a new man walked in. Punk recognized him too. How could she forget a face like his? Half of it was mottled in severe scars. He was like Two Face from Batman, except not as gruesome. In fact, the one side of his face was take-your-breath-away handsome.

This was Ella’s uncle. Weird to think of him like that since they were about the same age.

He took in the scene and his one eyebrow raised. “Anything I should know about?”

“Yes,” Beast said. “This is Punk, and she will kick your ass if you touch her without her consent.”

She nodded. He’d summed it up correctly.

“Punk, this is Blister. And that bastard over there is Diz.” The guy by the couch gave her a lazy salute. “And this of course, is Surge. He’s um…” Beast ran his hand over his jaw. “He’s the one throwing you the party tonight. Him and Annie.”

“Fuck, Beast. That was a surprise!” Diz growled, throwing a pillow at Beast’s head.

“Sorry, but I don’t think she likes surprises.” He looked at her. “Just a hunch, but am I right?”

Punk nodded. “What is this party?”

“A welcome home party. Duh,” Surge said.

“But I’m not even at home.”

He sighed, wiping more blood from his nose. “Fiiiiiine. Call it a happy hospital release party then.”

“I don’t need a party,” she argued.

“Well, who the hell ever
needs
a party? No one, that’s who. Parties aren’t like, necessities. That doesn’t mean we give up havin’ them, now does it?”

She squinted at him. “You’re weird.”

“So are you.”

There was truth in that.

Punk leaned on her crutches. The pain radiating from her leg was sharp. She’d fucked it up, no doubt, with her ridiculous friendly fire. Damn it, she’d have to call the doctor. But not tonight. Tonight, she needed to chill the fuck out. Maybe she actually
did
need a party.

Beast stared at his mate, keeping his face from revealing the emotion that created a storm inside him. Something was wrong with Punk. The way she’d reacted at the hospital when he’d touched her face, and what she’d just done to Surge. Something bad had happened to her in the past, and she’d turned her fear into fighting.

Except she was fighting the wrong thing. No one here would hurt her.

Maybe the accident had brought back bad memories. Or maybe she was always this distrusting. Whatever the case, it wasn’t good for her and it wasn’t good for their future.

His gaze traveled to her hurt leg. She’d put pressure on it when she kneed Surge. It must be screaming right now. He needed to make her comfortable so she’d relax and get off it.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make you something to eat.”

Surge gave him a skeptical look. None of them really did much in the kitchen besides Surge. It was like his playground and therapy at the same time. Working with fire, creating instead of destroying, it helped him deal with his issues surrounding the massive forest fire that wiped out their families twenty years ago.

But Beast despised cooking the most out of all of them.

“I am actually,” Punk said. “The hospital food hasn’t been kind to me.”

“Were you mean to it first,” Surge asked, accusingly. “Did you karate chop a pork chop on your first day or something? Nut check a baked potato?”

Punk narrowed her eyes. “No,” she hissed. “It didn’t try to touch me so it was safe.”

“Touché, little beast, touché. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go cry over my injured jewels.”

Diz snickered and flipped the channel on the TV.

“Kitchen’s through there.” Beast pointed her in the right direction, eager to get her alone again.

“Hey,” Blister spoke up. “Anyone know what time the other one is coming?”

“Other one?”

“The other…” He gestured awkwardly at Punk’s back as she made her way into the kitchen, his eyes not finding a place to land but rather bouncing off different points in the room. “Female. The other female.”

“Annie?” Diz asked.

Blister stared at the back of his hand as if there was something interesting there. “Yeah,” he said casually.

Beast stared at his friend. What was this about? Was Blister interested in that syrupy female? Surely to hell not.

“Around seven I think.”

Blister nodded. “ ‘Kay.”

“Why?” Diz grinned. “You wanna make sure you’re around?”

Blister went still and his voice was eerily quiet. “No.”

“Whatever man. I’m onto you. I saw the way you were look—”

“No,” Blister said more forcefully. “You got it all wrong. I want to make sure I’m nowhere to be found.”

With that, he yanked the door open and stalked away.

“Fuck,” Diz muttered. “What did I say?”

“Don’t jerk him around, Diz,” Beast warned. “Something’s going on with him.”

“Fine, fine. Damn sensitive wolves. It’s like I’m living with a bunch of—”

“Don’t finish that sentence or I’ll have to kick your ass, and I don’t feel like it right now.”

Diz flipped his middle finger, and Beast strode into the kitchen.

Punk had settled on a bar stool with her broken leg propped up. Beast opened the fridge and peered inside.

“What do you feel like eating? We’ve got eggs and bacon. Stuff for grilled cheese…”

“You have tomato soup?”

He rummaged through a cabinet and came up with a single can of Campbell’s. “Yep.”

“Grilled cheese and soup sounds heavenly right now.”

Beast tossed the can high into the air and caught it. “Coming right up, madam.”

He got the bread out and started buttering several slices.

“This is actually my specialty, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow, not impressed. “That right?”

“Mm hm. It’s your lucky night. Gourmet grilled cheese, a party among friends, and several bastards willing to wait on you hand and foot if you’ll let them.”

She lowered her gaze, playing with the rings on her fingers. “Listen, I’m sorry for what I did to Surge. I just… No, I can’t apologize for it. I know he didn’t deserve it. I can see that now. But I can’t be sorry because having that impenetrable boundary is what has kept me sane all these years.”

He stared at her, willing her to give him more. His wolf paced inside needing to know her secrets so he could make everything better.

She shook her head slowly. “I know you don’t understand. I probably seem like an insane person right now. Which actually isn’t something I mind people thinking. Usually. But I… guess I wanted to try to explain myself. I think I’m doing a bang-up job. What about you?”

He opened the can of soup to stall.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She smirked. “You just did.”

Ah, his mate had such a smart mouth. Such a smart sexy mouth.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” He filled the soup can with milk and added it to the pan. Milk—instead of water—was the secret to amazing tomato soup. Surge taught him that. “What would your answer be if I asked you when?”

She frowned. “When what?”

Beast shrugged. “Just… when?”

He was intuitive. He could gain a lot of information from her answers. Especially if she didn’t realize what question she was answering.

While she considered how to respond, he flipped the sandwiches.

“2005,” she said quietly.

She’d chosen the past. A long time ago in the past. And he knew immediately that she must be referring to the bastard who’d hurt her.

Beast held his breath and then let it out slowly.

She could’ve said “tomorrow” or “3pm” but she didn’t. She’d made a choice to confide in him without actually confiding in him. Which was exactly what he’d hoped for. It sounded screwy, but he understood it. He understood how Punk worked. She needed to talk, but she also needed to pretend she was keeping all her secrets tightly locked away.

“And if I asked where?”

She stared at her fingers, but snapped her response as if it was poison. “In a dim alley.”

Shit. Every detail was making him angrier, and she didn’t need his anger right now. He’d seen how she shut down in the truck.

“And if I asked why?”

“Because assholes exist.”

He plated the sandwiches and poured the soup into bowls.

Placing the food in front of her, he said, “And if I asked… what?”

She met his gaze squarely. He saw a war raging within her, wanting to share and wanting to hoard. Past hurts weren’t easily revealed. Sometimes they never were.

“I’d say go fuck yourself.”

One side of his lip pulled up. His mate had had enough. She’d been brave to tell him as much as she did.

“Congratulations, sweetie. You’ve just mapped out our first date for me. We’ll go fuck ourselves in a dim alley because assholes exist… in 2005. Although, that part we’re going to have to compromise on because I haven’t learned how to time travel yet.”

She blinked once. Twice. Then busted out a laugh. And she didn’t stop there. She kept going and going until he thought he’d keel over from the pleasure the sound brought him.

He’d made her laugh. Brought her through a panic, drew out some of the poison she was hoarding from her past, and made her laugh with abandon.

Today was a fucking good day.

“And that’s prettttty much what a date with me would look like too,” she squealed. “A total fucking disaster.” She laughed some more and Beast found himself chuckling along with her.

“Damn, girl. My wolf likes that. Your laugh is beautiful.”

Ah, shit. It slipped out. He wouldn’t take it back though.

“Your wolf?” she asked, a giggle slipping through.

“Yeah, don’t you know? There’s a wolf under all this sheep’s clothing.” He flexed a bicep jokingly.

“Oh, really.” She picked up a sandwich and shoved half the triangle in her mouth.

“Really.”

“That why they call you Beast?” she asked around a mouthful of food. “‘Cause there’s a beast inside you?”

He grinned. “Maybe. You’ll have to wait until our date to find out.”

“I guess I’ll be waiting a long time then. 2005 is a long ways away… in the wrong direction.”

He leaned across the bar so he was hovering over the plate of sandwiches. “Yeah but I said we’d compromise, remember?”

She nodded, her eyes dancing. “That’s right. You did.”

He stared at her, unable to help himself. She was so beautiful. Especially when she was happy.

“Try your soup.” His tone was a low command. He wanted her to obey. Needed her to, in just this small thing. His wolf demanded a certain submission, but also the urge to make sure she was well fed was strong.

She pressed her lips together, considering his order, then keeping her eyes on his she picked up the spoon and sipped some of the creamy red liquid from it.

Her brow furrowed and she stared into the bowl. “Fucking hell, what kind of magic is this?”

She took another sip, then another.

“Seriously, this is the best tomato soup I’ve ever had. Better than Annie’s and hers is homemade.”

Ella walked into the kitchen followed by Drake. “What’s better than Annie’s?” she asked, slumping down on the stool next to Punk.

“This fucking soup. It’s like… like… a tomato fucked some cream and made this luscious beast. I can’t even… I just don’t know what I’ve been eating my whole life.”

Beast chuckled in satisfaction watching her devour his food.

“How many painkillers have you had, Punk?” Ella watched her with a raised eyebrow.

“None. Not since the hospital. Why?”

“Because I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited about something since… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited about anything.”

“Bullshit. I was excited when we got apple ale at Red Cap.”

“Not
this
excited.”

“Can’t help it,” she said, slurping some more. “That hospital food sucked alien ass.”

“Yeah? Not just regular ass?”

“Nope. Alien ass.”

Ella stared at Punk. Beast smelled tears. Literally smelled them. But at least they weren’t coming from his mate. He shot a look at Drake, who seemed troubled.

“I’m so glad to have you back,” Ella said, wiping her eyes.

Punk looked at her, horrified. “Oh, Doc. Don’t do that. I’m fine. A few days in the hospital didn’t hurt me.”

Even as she said it, Beast suspected it wasn’t wholly true.

“I just missed you,” Ella sniffed. “And don’t even thinking about making fun of me for crying.”

Punk grinned. “I’d never.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Ella laughed as Drake’s arm came around the front of her shoulders.

Yesterday the display of affection would’ve bothered Beast. He didn’t want to begrudge his friend his happiness. He just wanted to find his match.
Needed
to. Now that he had, a sense of calmness had fallen over his wolf. Sure, the urge to mark and claim, to secure her to his side, was strong, but wolf wanted her to feel safe and happy more than he wanted to own her. And instinctually, his animal knew they needed to ease into things.

He wasn’t known as a patient wolf, but for her he would be.

“Annie will be here soon with your things,” Ella said. “She went by your apartment and grabbed what she thought you’d need.”

Punk nodded, dipping a sandwich into her soup. “And I’m sure she’s bringing party supplies, yeah?”

Ella’s gaze snapped to him. “Beast! How could you?”

He raised both hands in the air. “I told you I was going to tell her. You didn’t believe me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, because I thought you had at least a fraction of a heart inside that huge body.”

“He does,” Punk insisted. “Which is why he told me. Seriously, you lived with me for months. He knows me for a day and realizes how much I loathe surprises.” She shook her head. “And you call yourself a friend.”

Beast grinned, raising his eyebrows. “See?” He made a heart with his hands, put it to his chest, and pumped twice. “So. Much. Heart.”

Drake chuckled.

Ella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well… don’t tell Annie. She’ll be heartbroken.”

“No she won’t,” Punk said between bites. “She knew what she was doing. She has an ulterior motive with this party. You can bet your ass on that.”

Beast frowned.

Ella’s brow scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“She’s up to something.”

“Like what?”

“Hell if I know. I’m not privy to what happens inside her wicked little brain.”

Ella laughed. “Wicked? Annie?”

Punk pointed a finger at Ella. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s sneaky. Remember, she was the one who talked you into trying out for Dirt Track Dogs in the first place. I’m telling you, she’s up to something.”