13 Ch 13 An Invitation or Two

Over the next week I began to settle into a routine of sorts.

Derrick and I ran a few miles every morning. He never understood my penchant for running barefoot. We didn't carpool because I spent more time than he did at the coffee shop.

Derrick spent a few hours at the gym house every night, often coming home so sore I wasn't sure how he would get through work the next day. I only went three times a week for Ed to teach me about knife fighting.

Mac, the big guy in charge, kept an eye on me. I could feel his eyes following my movements, watching my practice matches. Mac had something on his mind, he just wouldn't say what it was.

I focused on my lessons and learned fast. I didn't do any more fighting like I did the first day.

I became familiar with most of the faces of the guys who worked out and practiced there. I was grudgingly tolerated because Mac said so. None of them trusted a new guy showing up out of nowhere. Few actually spoke beyond what was necessary to practice their fighting skills. Derrick wouldn't talk about it and I didn't push him. I knew Mac had warned him to shut it.

I kept watching at the coffee shop for long legs. She was making me suffer. One night I know I missed her by mere minutes, I could smell where she sat. Another night her scent was faint, where she had been there earlier in the day. I wondered where she worked, what hours she kept. I couldn't hang there all night every night however.

With Derrick with me all morning, I needed some time in the evenings to practice my shifting and to just run and hunt as a wolf. I became familiar with our neighbors scents and sounds.  The few dogs in the neighborhood were easy to bluff into submission. Rabbits were wising up, using more caution. I kept extra shorts in the shed, and cached a few around the neighborhood, just in case.

Work was good. We started out tagging trees, checking for deadfall, keeping the unmarked roads used for emergencies clear. I patrolled the campgrounds with John, and became familiar with the terrain. There were times when I was on my own for a bit that I would take advantage of the situation and shift while at work.

The worst part of my new life away from home was the socks. Dad and I seldom wore them. It was easier to shift, stepping wolf paws out of man shoes. To fit in, I wore socks at work and hated every minute of it. Wolf paws just didn't wiggle out of socks.

I did get some of the work-out shorts that some of the guys at the gym favored. Snug, they even stayed on when I shifted to wolf. One hundred and sixty-pound man became a one hundred and sixty-pound wolf. The waist wasn't so different, just the length and angle of the back legs.

I practiced what moves I could make comfortably as a wolf wearing shorts. I got used to wearing them so I wouldn't have to worry about clothes when I shifted. The black shorts blended with my dark fur, making late-night shifting a workable option. The last thing I needed was someone calling the police about a naked pervert hanging around our house if they caught me going in and out of my window.

Of course a wolf wearing shorts wasn't suspicious at all, I snorted to myself. It at least gave me options.

My next payday had me picking up a spare helmet just in case I could talk someone into being a passenger. Derrick was more than willing to be my first test subject when I mentioned going into town.

"Still hoping your lady love will show up?"

"I'll run into her again."

"I hope not literally, like last time."

I threw him an irritated look but he just laughed at me. My obsession with long legs over the past few weeks made me easy fodder for his jokes.

I retaliated with comments about the love affair he had in his dreams with my bike. He jokingly ran his hands over my bike before we got on and headed to the gym.

Mac was outside when I dropped Derrick off at the gym house. He walked over while Derrick secured the helmet to the back of the bike.

"Why don't you come in for a minute?"

It was less of a request and more of an order. I gave him a look, trying to gage his intentions.

"Sure, for a moment."

Mac sent Derrick to the basement before turning to me.

"Come on, I'll give you the nickel tour since you haven't been anywhere other than the basement."

It wasn't like the house was large. It was a single story ranch above the basement. What little of the basement I couldn't see I figured was furnace and water heater. Mac led me down the hall that would have led to bedrooms if this was a family dwelling.

Each bedroom was devoted to fighting skills. The punching bag I had heard before was in the first bedroom. There were weights in the room as well. Another room had mats on the floor for scrimmages. The third bedroom had one of those things I had only seen in the movies. It had a big wooden contraption with moving parts for hand to hand combat practice. All I could think of was Kung-fu Panda as I gave one of the bars that stuck out a spin.

Mac used a key to unlock the door at the end of the hall.

The master bedroom was converted into a mini hospital. Two stainless steel tables, IV stands, bandages, medicines, and a small refrigerator that I could only assume held blood. The only thing missing was a doctor. The curtains were closed, a solid blanket hanging behind them. There were bars on the windows that wouldn't be seen from the outside.

Mac closed the door behind him. He didn't say anything for a bit, measuring my reaction so far.

Wolf knew how to be patient.

Finally Mac hopped up on one of the tables. I jumped up across from him. Patient wolf. Mac gave in first.

"What do you think?"

"I assume the bars are to keep the medicines safe? Otherwise this room would make a nice little prison."

"No one comes that doesn't want to be here."

The silence drew out again.

"Do you want to be here? We don't usually take in charity cases."

"I never considered myself a charity case. If you don't want me here all you have to do is say so."

Mac was having an internal debate, and I had a feeling my response wasn't making it easy on him.

"Ed says you're a good fighter, that you have some natural skills. You could be more involved, only condition around here is you don't talk to anyone about this place."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Let's start with you swearing you won't talk to anyone about this place."

I gave it some serious thought.

From my first visit I could smell what this house was. This little clinic had been obvious. The odors clinging to basement walls were the odors of a crowd . One sandy pit and one raised and matted ring, plenty of room around both.

I wondered how much money Mac netted on the fights and how often they happened.

"I won't snitch on you," I said with a little grin. "But I'm not sure I'm actually interested in fighting beyond my lessons with Ed."

"Fair enough. How about you come back tonight and just check it out? Get a feel for the fights, see who you think you could take down. You can work on the side of the fights, help bring the defeated back here. It will be enough to prove to the guys you're a part of the set up."

I agreed and Mac walked me out.

I considered the consequences of my decision as I sipped my tea. I sat at a table against the back wall of the coffee shop. The fighting itself might not be illegal, but gambling on the fights probably was.

Dad was right. There were challenges to face as a man I had never imagined.

My nose tingled with a familiar scent. I know my face was covered with a foolish smile as I snuck up behind her, my money out to cover her drink. I laughed out loud as she shrieked when I poked her in the ribs. She was quick to swat my shoulder in ire but she also smiled and joined me at my table with her coffee.

"It's good to see you again. Thanks for letting me get your coffee."

That's all I could get out. I just kept staring at her, knowing that foolish smile was back on my face. She gave a small laugh as she leaned forward and bopped my nose, making me blink.

"That's better," she laughed. "You were staring."

I grabbed her hand.

"True, this is better."

I grinned again, trying to tone it down some when she didn't pull away.

"And I don't even know your name." I put on a sad expression, pouting.

"Only fair, I don't know yours either."

"Little Wolf," I answered promptly.

She pulled back slightly but I wasn't going to let her hand go that quickly.

"That's what I'm called at home on the reservation." I slid my thumb along her hand. "At work they call me Rick. Ulric Wolcott, Power of the Wolf from the wolf's cottage, at your service."

I gave a slight bow from my seated position and brought her hand up to my lips for a quick peck on the back of it. I looked at her over her hand while my head was still lowered.

Now was the time for one of those more intimate looks. I kept it brief though, letting go of her hand and leaning back to take a sip of my tea.

She was flustered, her heart beating faster. I felt some stirrings in reaction and took another sip of tea.

"Your turn." I leaned forward attentively.

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"Mahina."

She didn't offer more and I didn't insist.

My phone took that inopportune moment to beep. It was a text from Derrick telling me things were about to start. I scowled in frustration.

"I have to go." I made no no move to get up. I sat there for a minute just soaking in the sight of her.

She tapped my hand to distract me. "You don't seem to be in a hurry."

"How can I be when I just found out your name? I haven't been able to get you out of my thoughts. Getting you a simple coffee just isn't enough. Dinner? I would offer tonight if I hadn't made a commitment. Are you free tomorrow night?"

She shook her head no.

"I work every night next week," she said. "Next Saturday?"

"It can't come fast enough. Meet you here at seven?"

She agreed and I finally got up to leave. I was thrilled when she called out to me after I took a few steps.

"I'll be stopping in here around six-thirty Wednesday evening on my break."

I let that foolish grin take over my face as I nodded and waved bye. I wanted to howl so bad.

I finally let it out on the road halfway to the gym.