Unbearable Cage (The Grizzly Next Door 3) Page 4

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I could explain it to you, but you’d fall asleep. Seriously though, how fast do I have to be able to type to work as a court recorder? I think I can do like 80 words per minute.”

  Ren leaned up against the bar, trying to let her cleavage grab the bartender’s attention.

  “Order me a Bloody Mary,” Lisa said. “And 300.”

  Ren decided to get herself a mojito. No more blood.

  “Three hundred? Words per minute? Are you shitting me?”

  “And you can’t mistype. It’s not exactly stress free.”

  Ren frowned as the bartender mixed their drinks. Her own job could be good, in theory. If only her boss weren’t such a smug jerk.

  “Want to try to pick up some guys tonight?” Lisa asked.

  Lisa was striking and beautiful, and picking up guys had been effortless for her before the accident. She claimed it had been too effortless, and that filtering through the jerks and douchebags had been the real challenge. Now, she said, the wheelchair filtered the douchebags out for her. For the most part. She’d had a few run-ins with guys with weird disability-related fetishes, and those creeped her out even more than a run-of-the-mill asshole.

  “I don’t know,” Ren said. “I kind of just want to drink.”

  “So you ran into Cage then?”

  The bartender slid the drinks to her, and Ren’s face turned redder than Lisa’s Bloody Mary.

  Lisa smiled her smug smile.

  Ren pulled some cash out of her wallet and said, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  Ren felt the air change. There was a chill and change in pressure, and she and Lisa both looked toward the door at the same time.

  A beast of a man filled the door. No, not a beast, a god. His skin was alabaster white, but his dark locks were perfectly messy and jet black. He was all muscle, and as he reached up to scratch his neck, his huge bicep bulged. Ren worried his shirt would tear apart if he exerted himself even slightly more.

  He walked right up to them. Right past all the tiny little girls in tiny little dresses. He smiled right at Ren, towering over her. When he saw the money in her hands, he frowned and reached into his pocket.

  “Bartender, don’t let these two girls pay a penny. Beautiful women shouldn’t have to buy drinks.” He slapped some money down onto the bar, including a very generous tip.

  With the drinks bought, and both her and Lisa grinning ear to ear, the man turned back to face them, grinning wide. “I’m Mal.”

  ***

  Ren was no longer drunk from just the alcohol. She was drunk on Mal. He seemed to have eyes just for her, but still he didn’t ignore Lisa or make her feel like a third wheel. He kept her fully engaged in the conversation and was a perfect gentleman toward her. And yet, when he smiled at Ren, it was different.

  After about an hour of this, Lisa got the hint and said she would call it a night.

  “I’ll go with you,” Ren said.

  Lisa pulled her down and rasped in her ear, “Don’t you dare! Don’t let this one go!”

  They said their goodbyes, and suddenly Ren and Mal were all alone. Ren didn’t want to say she was glad Lisa was gone...but in this case, she was.

  Mal was new in town, but he said he knew some people who lived here. They were busy tonight, so he’d come here alone.

  He didn’t talk too much about himself though. He asked her a lot of questions, and even when she rambled and vented, he listened to her with rapt attention. When she told him all about the latest Andrea incident, he said something that surprised her.

  “Just kick her in the balls.”

  “What?” Ren said, too surprised to laugh.

  “Not literally,” Mal said. “It’s just that if you want to get what you want out of life, you aren’t going to get it by being nice or waiting. You just have to kick life in the balls.”

  Now she laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s just a metaphor, but think about it,” he said, and he touched her wrist as he spoke, just for a brief moment. It was like electricity, and she wanted more. “Think of what you most want in life, and it’s just behind a door. If you can get past the door, whatever thing you want is yours. But now, pretend there’s some big brute of a guy blocking the door. You try sweet talking him, bribing him, distracting him, but he just stands there with his arms crossed and refuses to move.”

  Ren nodded. She was hanging on his every word.

  “So,” Mal said, “what do you do? Put your fists up and fight him honorably? Trade punches with him and hope you win? No. You want what’s behind the door, and you don’t care how you get there, and this bastard is in your way. So you kick him in the balls, he doubles over, and you get what you want. This Andrea lady, you can’t kick her in the balls, because she doesn’t have any. That’s why it’s just a metaphor, you know? Still though, you can complain to Andrea’s boss, or go to HR, or whatever the equivalent of putting your fists up and challenging her to an honorable fight is.”

  “Or,” Ren says, “I can kick her in the balls, and she’s out of my way.”

  Ideas lit up in Ren’s head. She felt like she was on the brink of something huge. Mal was going to change her life. She’d been directionless and ignorant, and now she would have purpose

  “Right!” Mal said and touched her arm again. He held it there longer this time.

  CHAPTER 7

  CAGE

  Cage was working the inside of the club for the rest of the night, as the line had mostly died down. Zane liked to put him wherever the most drama was likely to be. Now that the club was full and everyone was at peak drunkenness, that was inside the club.

  He spotted two guys staring each other down and a girl rolling her eyes at them. Cage simply walked over, stood about three feet from them, and eyed the men. One of the men took one look at Cage, mumbled something, and scurried off.

  So damn boring. But boring was good.

  This is really boring though, his bear said.

  Cage swallowed. No comment.

  He shouldn’t have even been here. He should have...done what? Should he have sublet his apartment right after he turned down Mal’s deal? Then what? Buy a beater car and patrol between Lisa and Ren’s apartments? Sleep outside their doors and try to protect them both? Maybe Mal didn’t even know about Ren and he could focus solely on protecting Lisa. If he started guarding Ren, then Mal would know about her. Fuck. It was all a total mess. Without some money, he couldn’t do a thing anyway.

  We can go back in the bear cage, his bear said.

  No. That was one thing he couldn’t do. Right now, it was Mal alone who wanted him in there. The powerful shifters who ran the league had no interest in him, and they were the ones who he really had to worry about. Mal was certainly dangerous, but his main goal was to get Cage into the ring. If Mal laid a finger on Lisa or Ren, Cage would simply kill him outside of the ring. Mal wouldn’t be that stupid.

  The doors swung open, and the scent of animals filled the club. The scent of shifters. He smelled a few wolves, a panther, and another bear. A grizzly bear.

  Mal.

  Mal was in front, his cronies behind him. They were all laughing, as if they were here just to have a good time.

  No. They were here to pressure Cage. Good. This was good. They were going after Cage himself—not Ren and not Lisa. He could take a beating.

  Mal grinned at him and then went to order drinks. They got bottle service at a private table, and soon a number of women abandoned the men they’d been flirting with and worked their way over to Mal’s table. The shifters were downing bottle after bottle, but with shifter metabolism, it would be little more than a moderate buzz.

  Some of the wolves were slapping the women on their asses, and a few were making out furiously. A number of abandoned men were muttering to each other and looking in the shifters’ general direction.

  Zane took hold of Cage’s arm and said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Keep your
eyes on these guys.”

  Should he tell Zane that he knew them, ask to just kick them out? No...he needed to let Mal do whatever he wanted to do to him. If he didn't take the hit himself, then Mal might hit elsewhere.

  Cage nodded to Zane.

  A group of the men headed over to Mal’s table. Trouble.

  Cage follow behind them but stopped short of the table. He would only step in if things heated up, but he suspected they would.

  The man who led them over was lithe and pretty. Certain types of women would really go for that look, especially if the guy had balls—and judging by the look on his face as he marched toward Mal’s table, the guy had balls.

  He approached the table, four of his friends behind him. Mal and the other shifters—five in total—ignored the newcomers.

  “Ashlyn,” the lithe man said, “why don’t you girls come back and dance with us? Or if you really want bottle service, we can get a table.”

  Cage could tell by his tone of voice that he really didn’t want to shell out for bottle service, but he knew that if he didn’t, he’d have no chance of getting laid.

  Mal handed an unopened bottle to the man and said, “Here you go. You and your boys can go suck on this together. It’s on me. Maybe if you suck on something other than your mom’s tits, you’ll grow some balls?”

  Ashlyn snickered. “Mike, just leave.... We’re good here.”

  Cage rushed toward the table.

  Too late. Mike flipped the table over.

  Glasses and bottles slid onto the ground and shattered. Vodka and whiskey and a rainbow of cocktails spilled all over Mal and his friends.

  They jumped up, ready to fight. Before Cage could intervene, a wolf and a panther shifter hit him from both sides. He kicked one away, but a third was on him, and soon both his arms were pulled behind him. A third wolf kneed him in the stomach.

  “Kick his balls!” Mal cackled as he fought off three humans at once.

  The wolf obeyed, and memories of his fight against that long-legged lion fuck washed over him as he doubled over from the pain.

  In the background, he saw Mal and the two other shifters scattering across the private table area. They were throwing Mike and his friends across as many tables as possible, spilling dozens of drink with each blow. They were doing the maximum amount of damage to the club as possible.

  Cage pulled an arm free and slammed one of the wolves in the nose. He snorted blood and toppled over.

  Another of the bouncers—Jared—rushed inside from line duty and attacked the panther.

  The panther let himself get hit and toppled over. Faking it. Making Cage look bad at his job.

  As soon as Cage broke free, Mal rushed two of his friends, bashed their heads together, and they toppled over. He flung another over his shoulder and kicked his ribs while he was down. Before Cage could do a thing, all the shifters but Mal were already down.

  Zane arrived just in time to see Mal helping up one of Mike’s friends.

  Cage’s balls were on fire, and he could barely walk, but he otherwise had no scars to show.

  “What the fuck, Cage?” Zane roared. “You didn’t nip this in the bud?”

  Mal rushed over, face flushed. “Damn, Cage! I’m so sorry, bro!”

  He patted Cage on the shoulder and then turned to face Zane.

  “Sorry, sir. My friends got way out of line...and it’s not Cage’s fault he couldn’t stop them. Well, not really, I guess. I mean, have you seen Ashlyn’s tits? Cage was a bit distracted when the fight first broke out.”

  “You and your friends are going to need to leave,” Zane said to Mal. “Now.”

  “Will do!” Mal said. “I’ll get them out.”

  “Cage,” Zane said, veins bulging, “if you aren’t too busy dicking around, maybe you can start cleaning up?”

  Mal helped his friends up, who suddenly had no signs of injury. They all walked out laughing, and Zane glared at Cage as he helped Mike’s friends up.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew that guy?” Zane said. “You must have known he was trouble.”

  “I thought I could keep him under control,” Cage said, “They were spending a lot of money, and I didn’t want to—”

  “You know how much it will cost to clean up this mess?” Zane said, pointing to broken chairs and tables. “Not to mention all the customers we lost.”

  A lot of men had been cheering during the fight, but now that it was all over and the place was trashed, they were heading for the door. Show was over.

  “Sorry,” Cage said. “I won’t let it happen again.”

  “No,” Zane said, “and if you do, you’re fired.”

  CHAPTER 8

  REN

  Ren was on lunch break by herself. She had co-workers she liked to eat with on occasion, but her lunch break was a nice chance to read a book and have some quiet time. Or on a particularly bad day, to recover from the frustration of dealing with Andrea.

  She used to eat in the office’s break room, but Andrea had ruined that too.

  “You’re eating a whole sandwich for lunch, Ren?”

  So she’d switched to salads.

  “You’re not having fat-free dressing? That’s just as many calories as a sandwich.”

  Ren balled her fists up just thinking about it. Now she could eat whatever she liked away from Andrea’s judgmental glare.

  And her perfect mother routine was such a load of shit, too. Ren had caught her and Chad from marketing making eyes at each other. She’d never read too much into it until she’d caught them pressed up against each other in the copy room. If only she were more spiteful, she would put Andrea in her place.

  She hadn’t seen Mal since that night, but she thought of him often. She hadn’t seen Cage again either, but she thought of him less often. She knew there was a good man underneath all his running and fear, but it wasn’t her job to find it. And Mal...Mal was already a good man, and she felt like being near him could transform things for her. He’d asked for her number but hadn’t called yet. She had a brand new phone and had managed to keep her old number after reporting the old phone stolen.

  It had just been a few days since she gave Mal her number.... Maybe he worked late on weekdays. If he didn’t call by Friday though, she’d have to write him off.

  She sighed and took a bite of her sandwich. Melted parmesan and basil with a fruit cup on the side. She popped a grape into her mouth and gazed through the window at the road. A huge figure passed by, and just after passing her, it doubled back and leaned into the window.

  Mal.

  He smiled and waved through the window, and Ren signaled to the empty chair across from her.

  He nodded and walked toward the door.

  Quickly Ren fixed her hair and undid the top button of her blouse. She hoped she looked good.

  Mal sat down across from her, and she smiled at him.

  “Lunch break?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice apprehensive.

  “It’s funny that I ran into you just now, because I was about to call you and see what you were doing this weekend.”

  Play it cool...play it cool.

  “Nothing! I’m totally free this weekend. No plans at all!”

  That wasn’t cool.

  “Well,” Mal said, “I’m busy Friday night, but I’m free Saturday. What do you say to a real dinner date? Nice restaurant instead of a bar?”

  “Um,” Ren said, her heart racing, “that sounds great. I work Saturday, but I’m off by then.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at six. Just text me your address.”

  “You haven’t called yet, so I don’t have your number.”

  “Ah!” he said. “My bad. I’ll text you now.”

  He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and her phone vibrated.

  “So,” he said, “how’s work?”

  She wanted to ask him what he did, but she wanted to see what advice he’d give her. She told him about the way Andrea had
forced her to cover for her and then taken her sales.

  “With all that in mind,” Ren said, “what can I do? Other than kick her in the balls.”

  “It’s just a metaphor,” Mal said, grinning. “She’s already kicking you in the balls, you realize? She’s abusing her position and counting on your good nature to not rat her out. You could report her for what she’s doing, but you could actually get in trouble for fudging your time, right?”