Ryker’s phone rang and Grayden watched his friend take the call and wander away to talk. He tuned back in to the story Warner was telling but was pulled away again when Ryker abruptly hung up and growled as he gripped his phone in a tight fist.

  Ryker’s eyes met his and even in the darkness, the intensity there told him something was up.

  “What is it?” Grayden asked, instantly on alert.

  “That was Deacon,” Ryker said. “Looks like my contacts found him faster than even I expected.”

  Beside Grayden, Rachel tensed. “What did he want?” Grayden asked.

  Ryker looked from Grayden to Rachel and then said, “A rematch.”

  Grayden scoffed and relaxed. “Fuck that,” he said, “I’m done brawling.”

  Rachel squeezed his hand.

  “Dude,” Warner said like there was more to it. “I can’t believe you’re letting that jackwad off the hook. You really have changed.”

  “I just got arrested for fighting. With Deacon,” Grayden pointed out, irritated. “And you guys were pissed as hell about it too. I can’t believe you all look so disappointed that I’m not rising to the bait here. And with a cop sitting right beside me.”

  “Nah, man, you don’t get it,” Warner said.

  “Enlighten me,” Grayden said, his temper flaring at the absurdity of this argument.

  “Deacon’s been talking shit around town,” Ryker said, still standing stiffly, his hands fisted. “About both of you.”

  That got Grayden’s attention. “Hunt didn’t say anything about that earlier. What kind of shit?”

  “Hunt doesn’t know,” Beck said, exchanging a look with Ryker and Warner. “We thought it best to keep it to ourselves with our alpha so high strung about public opinion lately.”

  Ryker nodded. “He says you orchestrated the bust, the two of you, so you could distract him and win that fight.”

  “That’s insane. Why would I do that if I was fighting him and got myself arrested too?” Grayden asked.

  “Word is that Deacon had a lot of money riding on that fight. He lost a pretty chunk. Not to mention it screws with the fight schedule and participation. No one wants to fight if there’s a chance the cops will show up and bust them for it.”

  “Why would he want to challenge me if he thinks I’m a narc?” Grayden asked. “It makes no sense. I could just tell the cops to show up and bust him.”

  Ryker’s eyes flickered to Rachel. “I think that’s the plan,” he said. “According to my contact, Deacon named the stakes for your rematch. Winner gets her.”

  Grayden’s eyes narrowed as the realization hit him. “I fucking knew it. He’s the one behind these attempts on Rachel.”

  “He’s pissed because he thinks you ratted,” Beck said.

  “And he thinks she helped,” Ryker added.

  “Why would he think that I knew anything?” Rachel asked.

  “Motherfucker.” Grayden stood and stalked away to pace. Energy and anger swept through him. His bear was awake now and needed to brawl again, this time for another reason. Hunt had been right. He would do anything to protect what was his.

  “When does he want to meet?” Grayden asked.

  “Two hours from now,” Ryker said.

  “Look, man, you don’t have to do this,” Warner said.

  But Grayden shook his head slowly, staring over at his mate. “Yes, I do,” he said quietly.

  “Someone call Hunt and then let’s load up. I’m doing one last fight,” Grayden said. “This ends tonight.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  RACHEL

  Rachel stared out the window into the dark blur of trees swimming by as Grayden drove them down the mountain. She’d put in a call to Patrice but Hunt was already locking up at The Shifty Cat and shoving them both out the door. Apparently, Patrice had found a local girl to fill in behind the bar and was coming along for moral support. Beside her, Grayden stayed rigid and still as stone as he drove. She still held her phone in her hands—for all the good it did.

  Behind them, Beck drove Ryker and Warner, the beams from his headlights washing over one side of Grayden’s face, a violent splash of light. Rachel shoved her phone in her bag and scooted closer, letting her hand fall gingerly on his arm as he steered.

  “Grayden, I appreciate what you’re doing, but I wish you’d let me call for backup.”

  “Not happening,” he said, shutting her down just as quickly and firmly as he had the first time she’d suggested it. “You don’t know this guy like I do. He’s testing me. If I call the cops, I punk out of an actual fight. And if I don’t end this tonight, he’ll just keep coming after you.”

  “He can’t come after me if he’s in jail,” she pointed out.

  Grayden’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I know that’s how you’re trained to think but trust me on this.” He hesitated and then added, “Do you know why I chose to challenge Deacon that night?”

  “No. You never told me,” she said.

  “I know you think I’m bad for fighting but Deacon is a bottom feeder. He comes to the fights to let off steam between beating on his women. Or anyone else weaker than him that he can get his hands on. When he first started coming, he only challenged the younger ones. Or the skinny ones. Or the first-timers. Anyone he knew he could beat. And he doesn’t stop with a knock-out. He doesn’t stop at all until they pull him off.”

  Rachel felt disgust roil in her belly for the images that flashed in her mind. “He sounds like a real piece of work,” she said.

  “He’s gotten full of himself because of it. Can’t turn down a challenge. I knew that so I challenged him. I couldn’t help the need to brawl but I could help who I hurt. I know that doesn’t make it okay,” he said quietly.

  Rachel turned to him and ran her fingertips down the contour of his strong jaw, enjoying the feel of his prickly stubble on her sensitive skin. “You’re such a beautiful man, inside and out. I want you to know that I don’t hold any of it against you. And you don’t scare me.”

  “I won’t let him hurt you,” Grayden said and the quiet ferocity in his voice made her shiver.

  “I know,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  Grayden was silent as he made the turn into an empty lot near the location Deacon had chosen. He parked and killed the engine and turned to her in the darkened cab. “Come here,” he said gruffly. “I need to feel you.”

  Rachel slid closer but Grayden picked her up and set her on his lap. Her breath caught as he lowered her and she felt the thick bulge of his erection pressing against her center. Reflexively, she rocked into it, and Grayden groaned.

  “I need you,” he said, pulling her close and wrapping his hands around her hips.

  She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers in his already ruffled hair. “You have me,” she whispered, her lips brushing his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder.

  Grayden’s arms tightened and he pushed her hips down, grinding her against his lap. Rachel’s breath quickened as their embrace suddenly turned to heat. Here they were, about to walk into danger and violence, and all she could think about was the feel of his hands on her body. The idea of him being inside her right now made her squirm against the pressure of his growing erection.

  His hands slipped to the hem of her shirt, drawing it up and over her head. When he’d removed her bra and cast it aside, his eyes met hers in the darkness, a silent question. She shivered, aware of how exposed they were. It might be dark and there weren’t street lamps in this abandoned gravel lot on the edge of town, but anyone could drive up and see them. See her. Shirtless, straddling her very own Bad News Bear in the cab of a pickup truck.

  “I need to feel you,” he said again, still asking, and Rachel’s heart swelled at the tenderness in him. Even now, with his temper and rage all at the surface, he was still careful with her. She might have needed that the first time but not now. Not when a cocktail of adrenaline and lust left her dizzy and throbbing for him.

  “Inside me, Grayden,” she said, nodding and lifting his shirt off before waiting for an answer. “Now.” She let her nails scrape over his skin as she yanked the fabric away, letting him know she was done with tenderness for now.

  Tonight, she needed strength and force from her grizzly.

  Grayden growled and leaned up to crash his mouth against hers. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his back and tangling in his hair, pulling him against her until there was no more space between them. His hands were everywhere, rubbing and caressing and pulling at her skin. His thumb and finger pinched her nipple, pulling on it until it hardened into a tight bead.

  In the small space of the cab, he maneuvered her until he’d managed to pull her pants off and then slammed her back down on his lap. The full force of his erection pressed against her center and she felt liquid heat pool in her panties.

  Grayden’s mouth left hers to trail kisses down her throat and then he leaned her back against the steering wheel, capturing her nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Pain and pleasure collided. Grayden’s hands cupped her ass and a single finger reached around to push into her as his mouth continued to work on her tight beads.

  Rachel moaned, throwing her head back, and rolling her hips against his finger. He slid in and out, the pressure building in Rachel like a volcano. Her nipples tingled where his tongue darted out to lick. Her thighs ached for more of the sweet penetration he offered. She bent forward again, fumbling with his jeans, half-dazed by the lust rooting her in the moment.

  Grayden let go of her breast long enough to help her, releasing the snap on his pants with a flick of his thumb. “Is that what you wanted?” he asked, his hand still cupping her ass, his finger still sliding in and out of her.

  “Yes,” she panted, reaching down to free his erection from his pants.

  She held it in her hand, pumping up and down slowly, matching Grayden’s rhythm with her own. She felt him tighten in her palm, and his finger worked faster against her wet folds. She matched him, pumping him harder in her hand.

  Grayden growled and he yanked his mouth from her breast, looking up at her with stormy eyes. She’d never seen him look so wild. Not when she’d arrested him that night, his bear halfway to the surface with the violence, and not when they’d made love earlier at his house. But now, the way he was staring up at her like he wanted to eat her up, it sent warmth and wetness straight into her aching pussy.

  This is what she wanted from him. Nothing held back. All of it for her.

  Grayden took one long at her and yanked his cock out of her hand, lifting her ass in the air, positioning himself at her entrance. He didn’t wait to ask permission this time before he impaled her, sliding her wet walls down over his thickness until he’d sheathed himself fully.

  Rachel moaned, her muscles clenching around him, her arms tightening as she hung on while he picked her up and lowered her again and again. She rolled her hips, determined to take all of him. She loved how completely he filled her. How he didn’t stop or slow to ask if she was all right. She lost herself in it and each time he thrust into her, she pushed back, giving everything she could to him as she rode him.

  Her orgasm tore through her, making her shudder and shiver against his pumping thrusts. She clung to his shoulders, riding the aftershocks, and whimpering his name into the humid air of the cab. A moment later, Grayden tensed and then she felt the spurts of warmth as he emptied himself inside her. She clung harder, loving how it made her feel. Claimed. Mated. Belonging.

  Grayden made her feel all those things. And suddenly, she understood his need to fight tonight. She’d destroy anyone who threatened this feeling or her mate ever again.

  *.*.*

  The air inside the truck still felt humid, the windows slightly fogged as Grayden refastened his pants and pulled his shirt back on. After they’d finished, he’d held her for a long time until Ryker had finally texted asking where he was. Now, it was time to go, and Rachel finally realized the second part of Grayden’s plan.

  She crossed her arms, fuming, as Grayden reached across her and opened the glove box. He grabbed her gun from where she’d stashed it earlier and handed it to her. She didn’t want it but she took it anyway, knowing it would make him feel better. Even angry, she didn’t want to do anything that might distract him from winning the fight.

  “Don’t get out of the truck no matter what,” Grayden said.

  “Fine,” she muttered.

  “Promise me,” he said.

  She huffed. “I don’t see why I can’t come. I’ll hide in the rafters or the girls’ bathroom or something,” she began but Grayden cut her off with a look.

  “No. Deacon’s already made it clear he’s after you. Keeping you far away is the only way I’ll be clear-headed enough to do this. The guys know where we’re parked. If you need anything just call them or Patrice.”

  “The moment you’re done, call me,” she said.

  “The moment he’s down, you can call for backup like we agreed.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “You better hurry,” she said, and then for good measure added, “I’m seriously pissed at you for making me stay behind.”

  Grayden grinned slyly. “Is that your way of saying I’ll get makeup sex?”

  “You just had your makeup sex,” she said and his grin widened. “Victory sex, then,” he said and hopped out before she could argue.

  She laughed in spite of her irritation and when he shut the door, she scooted over to his window, rolling it down before he could walk away. He leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to her mouth. “Be careful, brawler bear,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said and then he turned and ran into the darkness.

  Rachel settled in against the cushioned seat and prepared to wait.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  GRAYDEN

  Grayden stood in the shadows of the old Baptist church sanctuary with Ryker and Warner beside him. Somewhere above him, Hunt and Patrice were hidden, already shifted in case things went sideways. Beck was outside, halfway between here and the parking lot where he’d left Rachel. Just in case.

  Grayden’s heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the silence. This shit ended tonight one way or another and his bear was itching to brawl. To draw blood from the man who’d threatened his mate.

  Somewhere in the recesses of the church, a door creaked. A second later, a dark figure appeared from the door behind the pulpit. Grayden sniffed to be sure. Yep, it was Deacon.

  Grayden cracked his neck and stepped into the aisle, walking slowly toward the front where Deacon waited for him.

  “You’re late,” Grayden said.

  “Nah. You’re early.” Even in the grainy darkness, Grayden saw Deacon’s mouth twist in a nasty smile. “Wonder what brought you here in such a hurry? Did you miss me that much, friend?”

  “I’m not your friend.” Grayden’s shirt strained with his body’s need to expand and shift, to let his bear out. But Deacon had made it clear. He wanted to do this with fists. Grayden planned to let him have both of them.

  “You came when I called,” Deacon said. He cocked his head sideways. “If not friends, what does that make you? My servant.” The older man laughed but it turned to a hacking cough that abruptly cut off.

  Grayden’s knuckles ached to hit something.

  “You’re a piece of shit, Deacon. I’m only here to end it,” Grayden said.

  “Funny, I’m here for the same thing.” Deacon’s smile twisted suddenly and he launched at Grayden with a sharp cry.

  Grayden caught Deacon easily, spinning him sideways so the man crashed against the old wooden pew. Deacon grunted as the wood struck his head then rolled to his feet, shaking it off before turning to face Grayden once again.

  He’d forgotten that Deacon was a lot tougher than he looked. Wiry and used to being beaten, Deacon was always underestimated in the fight circuit. It’s how he’d climbed the ranks so quickly. But it wasn’t going to do him any favors tonight. Grayden planned to take his time and enjoy this.

  He lowered his head and ran at Deacon, plowing into him like a linebacker. Deacon was driven backward and they both went down with Grayden on top, throwing punches. He landed blow after blow and barely felt the ones Deacon snuck into his rib cage and back. All he felt was rage. And the need to protect. This wasn’t like those other fights where his bear only wanted to feel the white hot fire of breaking open the skin along his knuckles. He didn’t want to fight just to fight anymore. He wanted to fight to win. For Rachel. For a new life.

  He wanted to fight for all the fights he’d ever won and lost. One last brawl.

  “You having fun?” Deacon asked when Grayden once again rolled them so he had the upper hand. Before Grayden could answer, Deacon turned sideways and spit a mouthful of blood on the thin, stained carpet below them.

  “I could do this all night,” Grayden said darkly.

  Deacon laughed. “That’s the idea, brawler bear,” he said, blood trickling from his mouth as he laughed.

  Grayden paused, midswing, and stared down at the bloody face of his enemy. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked but even without the answer, his pulse tripped and a trickle cold sweat ran down his spine.

  “What?” Deacon’s eyes narrowed like he couldn’t be sure what he’d just said. Then they widened as he seemed to realize. “Nothing,” he muttered. He swung out but it was weak and poorly aimed, catching Grayden lightly in the shoulder.

  Grayden ignored it and leaped to his feet, panic lacing his steps as he sprinted for the back of the church. “Ryker,” he yelled and his friend stepped out of the shadows. “Hunt!” Grayden yelled and floorboards creaked overhead. “Get to Rachel!”