Unbearable Cage (The Grizzly Next Door 3) Read online

  Six Years Earlier

  Tobias’s leg snapped out, connected clean with Cage’s chest, and shoved him backward.

  Fuck. He hit like a truck. Like a long-ass semi-truck. He didn’t just kick; he swung his hips around and stretched. It was like he gained an extra two feet of reach just from his technique.

  Cage stood just out of his range, looking for an opening. Tobias kicked again, but Cage knew he was out of range. The kick was high this time, and it whooshed past Cage’s head with a cool blast of air. Tobias held his leg out in the air, rock solid like a statue. He locked eyes with cage as he held the pose.

  Dumbass. Cage snapped his arm up. He’d grab his leg, pull him into him, and crush him to the ground with his full weight.

  As Cage’s arm rose, Tobias stretched farther still, and just before Cage grabbed hold, Tobias sent his leg back the way it came, but with the extra range, Tobias’s heel thwacked right into the side of Cage’s head.

  The whole left half of his vision blacked out, and the room spun. He heard ringing in his ears as he saw the blurred Tobias-shaped blob spinning around.

  Shit! Another kick.

  He leapt backward just as the kick whooshed past him. He felt the skin of Tobias’s foot graze his nose. Cage jumped back again as his vision cleared, and the heel kick missed this time.

  Cage bent down and raised both hands. He still thought he could grab hold of one of those kicks and just pull Tobias into him. Catching a lion by the tail...wasn’t there a saying about that?

  The kicks sped up, and Cage stepped back from each one. Each step backward brought him closer to the wall of the cage, and soon he’d have nowhere left to back up to. He’d be cornered and out-ranged, with no options left.

  He had to make a stand, fight for ground.

  As Tobias coiled up for a kick with his right leg, Cage reached out with his left hand, but Tobias was agile, and he adjusted the trajectory mid-kick. It connected right into Cage’s side. His ribs had a thick layer of muscle protecting them, but still the pain was explosive and intense. It shot through his ribcage and sent him two more steps backward.

  Shit. New plan.

  Cage ducked down and charged Tobias at full speed. Tobias was mid-kick, and rather than stopping, he finished his kick but used the momentum to spin himself around.

  For a brief moment, Cage was charging right into Tobias’ back. Too easy.

  Tobias spun fully around, but with his elbow raised. The elbow flew right up into Cage’s face, and it was all he could do to tuck his head into it. Better to get hit on the skull than the face.

  The impact knocked him back, but luckily he’d kept his arms up to protect himself, because Tobias leapt at him with his knee out. The knee hit him clean in the gut, and he lost every ounce of air from his lungs in an instant. Had his hands been down, the elbow to his face may have knocked him out clean.

  But Cage’s arms were up, and with Tobias’s knee digging into his stomach, Cage grabbed hold of it and bear hugged the entire leg.

  The elbow was on its way—Cage knew—so the instant he had a firm grasp on Tobias’s leg, he jumped backward as hard as he could.

  Cage started to fall onto his back, but Tobias sailed through the air with him, and his elbow started falling backward to brace for impact.

  They slammed to the ground. Tobias had managed to work his leg almost loose as they fell, but Cage secured it at the last moment. He only had a secure hold on his opponent’s ankle, and just one ankle. Tobias’s foot was right in his face. Tobias could squirm out or swing his other leg into Cage’s face if they held this position, so Cage had to do something.

  If he let go, he risked Tobias getting away entirely, and he’d have to work his way back in. Assuming he even could.

  So Cage let instinct take hold of him, and he growled as he sunk his teeth into Tobias’s ankle. He dug them in good, and the metallic tinge of blood filled his mouth. Cage bit as deep as he could. He wanted to really sink into Tobias’s meat so that he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to tear and let him loose, not yet at least.

  Tobias yelled and tried to kick Cage’s head with his good leg. A hit connected, but it sent Cage’s teeth deeper still into the ankle.

  After three or four knocks to the head, Tobias stopped kicking.

  Now! his bear roared.

  Cage released his bite and jumped.

  Tobias surely had expected Cage to dig in more, or to tear a chunk of flesh out. He didn’t expect Cage to suddenly release his hold and go full on the offense.

  Cage landed on top of him, flipped him onto his stomach, and pinned him down. He dug his forearm into Tobias’s muscular back. It was all slippery with sweat and blood dripping from his mouth, but Cage pushed hard enough that Tobias couldn’t slide free.

  Cage grabbed one of his arms and started to pull it back. He’d make him submit. That long-legged, heel-kicking motherfucker couldn’t do shit on the ground.

  The honeycombs! his bear yelled.

  Shit! The balls.

  Just as he thought it, something hit him hard in the balls. The pain was intense, sending sharp tendrils up through his entire body.

  Tobias started to break free, and as Cage’s forearm slid down Tobias’s back in a mess of blood and sweat, Tobias started to get up.

  Cage lunged forward and punched Tobias with his full strength in the back of his head. He felt Tobias’s stupid-ass top knot mash under his fist, and he flung his other fist into the side of Tobias’s head.

  Tobias flung an elbow up toward Cage, right at his nose, and it connected clean.

  Just as Cage felt his nose break, and blood leak into his mouth, he connected a fourth or fifth or sixth—he’d lost count—punch right into the side of Tobias’s head, and Tobias, who was up on his knees by now, went limp and crashed to the ground.

  The crowd exploded, and Cage looked back to see Jack shaking his head.

  Damn, his balls really hurt.

  ***

  Cage awoke the next morning knowing he’d made a mistake. He was here for at least sixty days either way. More if Lisa delayed. Getting Ren to work her magic on Lisa might speed things up, but then he’d have to honor his deal and train her to defend herself.

  If Ren really wanted to be safe, she wouldn’t go near him.

  He should have refused the deal. He could have just let Lisa drag her feet, and that way Ren wouldn’t be dragged into things. He’d covered his tracks well, but his enemies could follow even the faintest tracks. It was only a matter of time until they caught up to him. He needed to be out and gone from here before they did. He knew he couldn’t outrun his past, but when it finally caught up to him, he wanted at least 5,000 miles between himself and the people he cared for.

  He’d worked late last night. He worked late every night, but the job didn’t stimulate him.

  Ren could stimulate you, his bear whispered. Cage ignored it.

  He never even had to break a sweat dealing with the angry scum at the club. The first few nights, he’d actually had to bash some heads together, but word soon spread that the bouncer was an animal—though they didn’t know that he literally was an animal—and that if you wanted to start shit, you should do it elsewhere.

  She could stimulate your penis with her—

  Cage cut his bear off. “If you stop thinking about that, we can go for a run. There’s still fresh dew on the grass. Deal?”

  He took the silence for a yes.

  Cage hadn’t even dressed yet, but he didn’t have the luxury of living right on the forest, so he’d have to put clothes on and walk into the forest as a human.

  He pulled on some basketball shorts and a blue tank top and then began walking toward the forest.

  Maybe it was best to have Ren convince Lisa to sign. This way he could have almost no contact with either of them. He didn’t have to see Ren at all until Lisa had signed, and once Lisa did sign, he only had to give Ren a few lessons before he was off. He’d endanger Ren in the process, but the risk to each of
them was smaller this way. It was spread out across them.

  Cage reached the forest and walked deep enough in that he could no longer see the road. He took his clothes off and stashed them at the base of a tree. He could no longer afford to tear apart perfectly good clothes while shifting. In his MMA days, it had been a favorite of his. Ripping clothes apart while shifting made the transformation feel even more extreme. It was shedding the skin of society and humanity all in one fell swoop. Undressing and then shifting felt too gradual. What kind of self-respecting animal took his clothes off, neatly folded them, put them somewhere safe, and then—finally—shifted? Broke-ass bouncer bears, that’s who.

  He stood naked in the crisp air, and a slight chill ran through him. He shifted.

  The fur covered him as he fell onto all four legs, and the cold became just a faint suggestion.

  He hadn’t eaten yet, and he had almost nothing in the fridge. He’d hunt.

  Cage moved through the forest, letting the pure air and dew-soaked leaves wash across him. Even if he didn’t find a thing to eat, this would rejuvenate him and get his mind off things.

  As time passed and Cage wandered with no hint of prey, the sun rose and the dew evaporated, and just as Cage decided to head back, he picked up the scent of prey. A deer.

  He followed it, staying far enough away to not startle it. Even at a ton and a half, he moved silently through the forest. He was a part of nature when shifted, and the forest was his home.

  He followed the deer as they entered the foothills. There was a rocky ridge nearby, and Cage knew he could corner it if he continued in this direction. The deer reached a stream that was too deep for it to cross, and now it had only one direction left to go: The rocks were in front and the stream was to the right.

  Cage rushed it. It darted left, hoping to pass him before it was pinned down. But Cage was faster, and the deer froze in fear as it realized it couldn’t pass him without great risk. Cage watched it, waiting for it to try to cut in one direction or the other. He knew it would make a break for it; he just didn’t know when. If it caught him off guard when it broke off, it might slip right past him, so being alert was key.

  Just as the deer broke right, a scent from Cage’s past filled his nostrils, and fear pulsed down his spine. Now he was frozen, and the deer rushed by him. With the stream and rocks no longer blocking it, it could run free—deep back into the forest.

  But the thing Cage had caught a whiff of was behind him, and he heard it before he saw it.

  There was a loud roar, and by the time Cage turned to face it, it had turned the deer to a bloody mess.

  It was another grizzly, nearly the same size as Cage but darker in color. It cocked its head at Cage. The bear’s face was covered in blood, just like the last time Cage saw it.

  Last time, the mouth had been in human form, and it was covered in blood because Cage had punched him in the face. That punch had just been for show though, to make the fight look real before Cage threw it.

  And Cage did throw the fight, because the powers behind the MMA league had already put Lisa into the ICU, and they said they’d do worse if he didn’t give it up. Let Malachai Metzer win.

  And so Cage let him win.

  Mal shifted over the bloody deer. He stood naked and bloody in human form. Shadows of leaves obscured his face, but the blood shone through. He was like a demon of the forest.

  Mal cackled as he walked toward Cage.

  “Come on, Cage,” Mal said, extending his hand. “How can I shake your hand or give you a hug if you don’t shift back?”

  Bear hug him! his bear yelled. Crush him!

  That would do it. Just crush him before he could shift. Or he could just lunge and bite his throat apart while clawing out his stomach.

  “My friends know I’m in town,” Mal said, “and they know how to hurt you if I don’t regularly check in with them. So let’s just shake hands, man to man. How about it?”

  Shit! He should never have come back here. Lisa was doing okay, and the house should have been hers, but it was such a stupid fucking risk for Cage to have come back.

  He shifted back, stood up, and glared daggers at Mal.

  “Aw,” Mal said, mocking sympathy, “you’re still mad about the accident?”

  “Accident!” Cage yelled. He swung at Mal.

  Mal dodged and punched back. Cage blocked it with his off hand, and then Mal’s body relaxed, and he grabbed hold of Cage’s hand and shook as Cage sighed. Mal grinned wide. His black hair was wild, and his eyes were blue as frost. He had fair white skin and long, thin eyebrows that made him look like the evil fuck he was. Women loved him, of course.

  “How many times do I have to say it,” Mal said. “I had nothing to do with what happened to your sister. You think I wanted to throw that fight? You think I took any satisfaction from a fake win?”

  “I don’t give two shits about who won,” Cage said. “Not after what happened.”

  Mal grimaced. “That’s too bad, because I was thinking of a nice little rematch.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Cage said. ‘I’ll never get back in the bear cage.”

  “Well,” Mal said, “we’ll see how much pressure it takes to get you back in. I’ll start small, do a little bit of damage to this sad thing you call a life. If you don’t agree to fight...then it means I didn’t poke hard enough, and I’ll crank up the damage.”

  “You fucking—”

  Mal held up his hands and smiled as if he’d just been falsely accused. As if he hadn’t just directly threatened him. “Cage, come on, I would never do anything to your sister. What’s left of her, that—”

  Cage slammed his head into Mal’s face. He felt Mal’s nose crack against his skull, and Mal flew backward onto the ground.

  Yeah! Head butt! his bear said.

  Mal hit the ground in a motionless heap. Cage took one step toward him, but Mal bolted up to a sitting position, cackling. His face was a mess of blood—deer blood and his own blood—and it oozed down into his mouth and teeth as he laughed. Birds flew away at the sound.

  He should kill him now. What if his threat about friends in town wasn’t real? Or what if it was? He’d found out Cage was here, meaning his “friends” had probably seen him and called Mal. How many were there, and how could he protect Ren and Lisa if it came to that?

  Mal finally stopped laughing. Then he waggled his finger at Cage from the ground. “It hasn’t been that long, has it? Don’t you remember there’s no head butting? Listen, Cage, this is a new league. Those guys who ran the one from before are all dead. Murdered, actually—not that I had anything to do with it. It’s just something I heard through the grapevine. Anyway, it seems no one liked all the bad stuff they did...rigging matches, hurting humans…”

  Humans. His sister.

  Mal got to his feet and cracked his neck. “Anyway, I really am sorry about what happened to your sister…”

  Cage was ready to hit him again. As long as he didn’t kill him, right?

  Mal laughed. “Okay, actually, I’m not sorry. I’ll cut the crap. I really don’t care about your sister. I just want a real fight against you. That’s all. Give me what I want, and no one has to get hurt. Except for you, when I beat you. But no one gets hurt outside of the ring, you know? So just tell me you’re in, and I’ll get you all signed up and everything, and we’ll get you in before the brackets are locked in. Deal?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Cage said.

  His dick is big, Cage’s bear said, but if it gets hard, it won’t be bendy enough to wrap around and go up into his butt.

  CHAPTER 6

  REN

  Ren stumbled down the sidewalk in her heels.

  Lisa laughed at her.

  “That’s so cruel to laugh at me,” Ren said.

  “I’m not laughing at you,” Lisa said. “I’m just glad I get to wear heels without having to walk in them.”

  Ren giggled as Lisa wheeled in front of her. “You’re drunk driving though!”


  “I checked the laws when I first got into this chair. I still count as a pedestrian if I’m on the sidewalk.”

  Ren knew not to offer to push her. Lisa had built up some serious upper-body strength over the years, and pedestrian or not, Ren struggled enough walking in a straight line. Pushing Lisa’s chair straight would be a challenge.

  They found a new bar that caught their eyes and headed into it.

  They’d been bar rolling—that’s what Lisa called it—every Saturday since that bitch Andrea had started picking on Ren.

  “I should learn to become a court recorder like you,” Ren said. “It seems a lot less stressful than trying to sell heuristic scheduling software.”