Axel's Pup (2 page)

When Jarvis took Ford to one corner of the yard, Bayden headed for the opposite one. He’d brought his helmet with him and he set it on the ground at his feet as if he was familiar with the drill.

He glanced up when Axel joined him in his corner. He was short enough to have to tip his head right back to look Axel in the eye.

“I thought you said you weren’t looking for trouble,” Axel said.

“You want us to take it somewhere else?”

Axel ground his teeth together. “Ford’s into MMA—mixed martial arts. I haven’t seen him fight, but, from what I’ve heard, he’s good.”

Bayden didn’t even blink.

“In case you haven’t noticed, he’s also damn near twice your size,” Axel added. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Wolves aren’t easy to kill.” There was no emotion in Bayden’s voice, just that touch of a Welsh accent that marked him out as a local, just like Axel.

Axel glanced across to where Jarvis was binding Ford’s knuckles with fancy orange wraps before turning back to Bayden. “Is there some sort of handbook for silly little rich boys?”

Bayden blinked at him.

“Buy a flash bike, get your arse kicked in a pub full of bikers. Is it considered some sort of rite of passage?”

Bayden stared up at Axel as if he thought he’d lost his mind.

“You didn’t really think you were the first idiot to ride up here with more attitude than sense, did you?”

Bayden didn’t blush, he didn’t bluster. He just gawped at Axel as if he couldn’t believe a mere pub landlord would talk to him that way.

Axel bit back a sigh. “Ever been in a fight before?”

“Once or twice.”

Axel looked Bayden over. Ford was built like an ox. In comparison, Bayden looked like he could use a few big dinners. “You got a secret black belt or something?”

“No.”

Axel mentally cursed, but if this was going to happen anywhere, here was the best place. He called Griz across. “My gym bag’s by the backdoor. Grab some wraps for me.”

Axel glared down at Bayden until Griz returned and tossed the rolled up wraps across to him. They weren’t as fancy as Ford’s. They were white, basic and well used. They were okay worn under gloves when Axel wanted to beat the hell out of a punch bag, but they wouldn’t offer Bayden much protection in a real fight. Hell, if this went the way Axel expected, they wouldn’t have a chance to protect Bayden’s knuckles because Bayden wasn’t going to land a single punch. Stupid little fool…

“Hands,” Axel ordered.

Bayden held out his hands and stood in silence as Axel started to wrap them.

“Ford’s not the kind of guy who’ll go easy on a kid. The first time you go down, show some sense and tap out—no one will think any less of you.”

Bayden made no comment as Axel wrapped his other hand.

By the time Axel was done, Ford had stripped to the waist. He was pumped up, shadow boxing, showing off his skills.

All four of them made their way into the middle of the yard.

“You fight clean—first man to forget that forfeits. Clear?” Axel met Ford’s gaze and held it for several seconds, damn near daring the guy to cross him.

“Sure, Axel. No problem.”

Just for form’s sake, Axel turned his attention to Bayden and waited for him to nod too.

“If you’re down for five, it’s an automatic tap out,” Axel added, as he and Jarvis stepped back, leaving Ford and Bayden in the middle of the yard.

Ford was still bouncing on the spot. Bayden stood motionless, until Ford finally began to move to his left.

As they circled each other, a hush fell over the crowd.

Axel watched through narrowed eyes. It was hardly the first time two idiots had squared off against each other within the vicinity of his pub. What grown men chose to do with each other was no more his business when they were fighting than when they were screwing. But, damn it, the men were usually far more evenly matched.

If he stayed down the first time he took a fall, all Bayden would have done is gained a few scrapes and bruises while learning to pick his battles more wisely. But as Axel studied him, he doubted the boy would take his advice. Bloody bravado.

* * * * *

Bayden ignored the crowd. If they were going to be a problem, they’d have to be a problem he dealt with later. Ford grinned at their audience, obviously relishing the prospect of showing off his moves. He took a swing. Bayden swayed easily out of range.

Ford’s next attempt at a right hook was just as easy to predict. Bayden side stepped. Ford was big and strong. He was also an arrogant arsehole and making no real attempt to defend himself.

Ford lunged. Bayden dodged and caught him neatly in the solar plexus. Ford grunted and doubled over. A sympathetic groan went up from the men watching.

Bayden weighed his options. He couldn’t actually let Ford win, but there was no point asking for everything to go to hell. The next time Ford swung, Bayden allowed him to land a glancing blow to his face. Blood filled Bayden’s mouth. A split lip. Their audience liked that.

Ducking a jab, Bayden picked his moment and punched Ford on the nose as he straightened up. Mumbled curses filled the air as Ford spat blood across the rough concrete.

One more. He’d let Ford land one more hit. Just in case it would appease the guy’s friends if they thought the fight had been a closer contest than it was.

That blow to the nose had really pissed Ford off. The scent of his anger filled the air. His punch was clumsy, but it had Ford’s full weight behind it. His fist connected solidly with Bayden’s shoulder and knocked him off his feet. He rolled and had himself upright in less than a second, but that was enough. Time to wind it up.

If you can’t cover the bet, I’m sure we can find another way for you to pay us back.
Bayden bit back a growl. It would be so easy to finish the fight. A quick shift and lupine jaws could end it as quickly as they tore a jugular from a human neck.

No. Bayden pushed down his instincts. A wolf would get in trouble for doing that. He could do without a lynch mob on his tail. The skill was always to win without killing his opponent.

Shoving every other thought out of his mind, Bayden landed several hits in quick succession. They were careful blows. Nothing that would do any real harm. Just enough to take Ford down and make him want to stay down.

A left hook to the jaw, but not hard enough to break it. Jab to the ribs, just enough force to take the wind out of him. Dodge back. Sweep with the legs. There was no satisfaction in it. Bayden simply went through the motions.

Ford collapsed onto the rough concrete with a thud. Jarvis sprang forward and shook Ford’s shoulder.

“Five.” Bayden glanced across to the bartender with all the tattoos. What had Ford called him—Axel? Whatever his name was, he wasn’t wasting any time with the count. He didn’t look disappointed that his friend had lost.

Ford pushed Jarvis impatiently away, but he didn’t pull himself to his feet.

“Four.”

Jarvis tugged more desperately on Ford’s shoulder. “Get up.”

Ford peered across at Bayden. Complete realisation dawned in his gaze. Bayden could have really hurt him if he’d wanted to—he might do that if Ford got up—and Ford had a decision to make.

“Three.”

Jarvis leaned over Ford, hissing at him and ordering him onto his feet.

“Two,” Axel continued.

Jarvis tried to physically drag Ford upright. It was like watching a Chihuahua try to lift a Great Dane. Ford dropped his gaze. He didn’t want to find out what Bayden might do to him in the next round.

“One.” Axel stepped forward. “That’s it. You’re done.”

Jarvis straightened up, leaving Ford on the ground at his feet. “What?”

“Settle your debts,” Axel ordered. “And that’s the end of it.”

Axel looked in his direction. Bayden nodded his willingness to do that.

“No way—he cheated!” Jarvis burst out.

Bayden bit back a growl. There went his hundred pounds.

“How?” Axel demanded.

“He’s a bloody wolf.” Jarvis was much smaller than both Ford and Axel, but he waved his arms around a lot, like a chicken ruffling up his feathers, trying to make himself look bigger.

Axel folded his arms across his chest and glared down at Jarvis. “You both knew that before you put your money down.”

“But…” Jarvis waved his arms around some more. “He—”

“Pay the boy.”

“Why should I?” Jarvis whined. “He’s just a wolf. They’re no better than dogs and—”

“You’d have taken his money,” Axel cut in. “You’d have tried to screw it out of him if he didn’t have the cash.”

“That’s not the—”

“You made a bet. You lost,” Axel cut in.

Bayden studied Axel more carefully. Axel was a big guy, but Bayden doubted it wouldn’t have made any difference if Axel was five foot two and seven stone. That kind of confidence didn’t come from size, or from the brightly coloured tattoos that covered Axel’s arms. It came from a man knowing he was by far the most dominant wolf in the pack.

Jarvis pulled out his wallet, grabbed five twenties and shoved them into Axel’s hand before turning back to Ford. Safe, now that the fight was officially over, Ford let Jarvis pull him to his feet. It wasn’t easy for anyone to make a dramatic exit while supporting a man twice his size, but Jarvis seemed to be doing his best.

The crowd followed them toward the front of the pub. The only one who didn’t walk away was Axel.

“You okay?”

Bayden nodded.

Axel stepped straight into Bayden’s personal space. He was at least six foot two and loomed way above Bayden. He took hold of Bayden’s chin and tilted his head back—as if he had the right to touch him however he pleased. Bayden tensed, but he held his ground.

“Come on. I’ll sort out that lip.”

“It’s fine,” Bayden began, but Axel was already walking away, and he still held Bayden’s winnings.

Axel stepped through the pub’s backdoor.

“My bike’s out front,” Bayden called after him.

 “It’s safe.” Axel’s smile turned crooked. “Taking a swing at a man is one thing, going after his bike is something else, and a ride like yours is sacred.”

He sounded honest, and like someone who knew the men who drank there. And a hundred pounds was a hundred pounds.

“You can bring your helmet with you, if you’re worried it might be nicked,” Axel offered.

One hundred pounds. The right choice was obvious. Bayden grabbed his helmet and followed Axel into a small kitchen at the back of the pub.

“Sit.” Axel pointed to the chairs around a rickety kitchen table. Opening the cabinet below the sink, he took out a bowl and half filled it with warm water. While the water ran, he pushed Bayden’s winnings into the front pocket of his tight black jeans.

Bayden bit back a sigh and perched on the edge of the nearest chair. He looked down at the wraps around his knuckles. There was blood on them—Ford’s blood. The scent of it hung heavy in the air. His own blood tasted bitter and metallic in his mouth.

Axel set the bowl of water and a first aid box on the table. “You play off that trick often?” he asked, pulling out the chair adjacent to Bayden’s.

Trick?
“I don’t want any trouble.”

“Debatable, but that doesn’t answer the question.” Axel dropped a cloth into the warm water and squeezed out the excess. He wiped Bayden’s mouth with the damp fabric. It came away with blood on it.

Bayden pulled back. “You don’t have to—”

“Hush.”

Axel dipped the cloth back into the water. He caught hold of Bayden’s chin and held him still so he could continue cleaning his split lip. His touch was firm but not painful. His tattoos seemed to undulate against his skin as the muscles beneath them flexed and relaxed—it was dangerously hypnotic. No scrapes and bruises for Axel—the only marks on his skin were ones he’d chosen himself.

“Who taught you to fight like that?”

Bayden shrugged. “Wolves fight,” he mumbled, as the cloth rubbed against his bottom lip once more.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m not aware of knowing any other shifters.”

Bayden made the mistake of looking up. Their eyes locked. It was several seconds before he could force himself to look away from Axel’s intense blue gaze.

“Do you fight every man who challenges you?”

Axel’s scent filled the small room, over-powering even the smell of blood. He didn’t want to fight Bayden, he wanted to fuck him. Bayden shrugged.

“It happens a lot once people realise you’re a wolf?”

Bayden nodded. In a certain kind of pub it was damn near guaranteed, and he’d read what kind of pub The Dragon’s Lair was perfectly.

Axel opened the first aid box and pulled out a tube of something. He squeezed some onto his fingertip and dabbed it onto Bayden’s lip.

It stung worse than the original blow. Bayden pulled back. Instinct made him run his tongue over the cut. The stuff tasted foul.

Axel laughed. “You’d do a better impression of a big scary wolf if you didn’t act like a little pup who doesn’t like taking his medicine.”

Bayden glanced up. The laughter wasn’t cruel. It sounded more like Axel was teasing a human child rather than taunting a dumb animal.

Bayden risked a small smile. “Wolves heal quickly enough without human medicine.”

“Quickly enough to risk a beating just to teach a couple of idiots not to mouth off to a wolf?” Axel used the damp cloth to wipe away the cream he’d just applied, before turning his attention to undoing the wraps around Bayden’s knuckles.

“I knew I’d win. And if I didn’t…” Bayden shrugged.

“Then what’s a hundred pounds here or there?” Axel asked.

Silly little rich boy.
Bayden bit back a chuckle. If that’s what Axel wanted to believe, it was fine with him. “Exactly.”

Axel frowned. Suddenly, he looked sceptical.

“They chose the stakes,” Bayden said. “If I’d thought they could have covered their side, I’d have suggested adding another zero. But since I had no interest in screwing them for the balance…”

Axel leaned back in his chair. He didn’t look impressed. “So you understood how they would have tried to get you to earn the money if you hadn’t had the cash?”

“Doesn’t matter, since I had the cash,” Bayden lied. “Anyway, isn’t there a human saying about pots calling kettles black?”