MC Bear My Baby (Beartooth Brotherhood MC) (8 page)

“No. Fucking. Way. You’re not getting in that ring to get your ass kicked. Not on my watch.”

“I won’t lose.”

“Okay, so I know whoever’s in the ring you can probably take them. That’s not the fucking point. You’re not here for that. That ain’t your job. And letting you get in the ring is stopping me from doing my job. Look, this isn’t up for discussion. You’re not getting in that ring.” Tate snatched her wrist, fully intending to throw her over his shoulder caveman style if that was what it took to get her out of this hellhole. If she wasn’t playing nurse, she didn’t need to be here.

“You said it yourself that I can win, so give me a break and let me the fuck go… My mom and I didn’t hire you to stop me from living, Tate. Now do your job. Feel free to keep your back turned if you can’t watch, but I’m going in that ring. You know I’ll kick your ass and wind up in the ring anyway.” She wrenched out of his grip, pushed him backward, and kept walking.

“Christ, woman.” He followed her ringside, swearing under his breath the whole way.

Molly swung under the ropes. It was when she stripped off her outer clothes to reveal the same tiny matching short-shorts with bikini top that the other fighters wore that he realized she’d been planning this all along. She leaned over the ropes and reached her hand out to his. “So I fight here sometimes.”

“Fuck, Molly. So who are you going up against?”

She nodded behind her to a shadow of a figure still bouncing on each foot outside the ring while men cheered their asses off for the person. Tate swallowed through his tight throat and took a closer look, and Molly took the opportunity to hurry to center ring, out of his grasp.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Tate banged his fists against the ring and took another cursory sniff of the sweltering, musky air. “No! No, Molly, no!”

There was no denying his inner bear was right on target. His lips curled back and his hands went white where he gripped the bottom of the ring. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a swell of heat burst through his limbs, giving him goosebumps. This was bad, very bad.

The other chick in the ring was a panther shifter.

11
Molly

M
olly stretched
her arm and limbered up, watching her opponent out of the corner of her eye as the other woman did some kind of weird dance back and forth on her toes. She’d seen the girl fight a few times. Her opponent was damn good, but Molly was sure she could take her. The woman’s moves were predictable. Mentally going through her catalogue of sparring techniques, she prepared herself and took a second to look Tate’s way. The man was in a state of panic. It was kind of cute.

He motioned to her again to come to him. He should have known the stubborn woman would have shaken her head. Tate motioned again and she rolled her eyes. Could he be any more overprotective? He wouldn’t leave her alone until she did what he wanted, and she didn’t put it past him to eventually step in the ring and really cart her off, but she needed this. Plus, in order to fight she needed her mind clear and not focused on him. To get him off her back, she quickly moved across to him and bent down until their eyes were level. She slapped a smile on her face for the crowd, but Tate wasn’t buying it.

“What? Now’s not the best time.”

“You’re fighting a shifter, Molly…panther shifter to be exact. She’s fierce, strong and agile, and she’ll annihilate you in there. Come out before you get yourself killed. Now!”

She saw all the color drain from his face as she lifted up her chin in defiance. Human or animal—she
knew
this girl. She knew the woman’s moves inside and out. There was still a shot and a heck of a lot of money on the line. Money that she could say she earned, as opposed to what she and her mother had inherited after her father died. No way was she going to turn down this opportunity without giving it a shot.

“I’m doing this, so just get over it.”

She wasn’t afraid of the pain. If anything, it was a damn good motivator. Tate started screaming from the sidelines. She ignored him now, zeroing in all of her focus to the tall, fit woman standing on the other corner of the ring.

“I beat Tate, I can take on this bitch,” she said under her breath, giving herself a pep talk before the girl with the clipboard stepped into the ring and popped a mouth guard over Molly’s teeth.

The bell dinged twice, she put her hands up to guard her face, and it was time to kick some ass. The world narrowed to nothing and everything. Within seconds, the other woman had thrown three jabs toward her face, kidneys, and stomach.

Dip, duck, and dodge.

Molly kept one step ahead, playing a good defense as her heart beat hard and high in her throat. Her opponent was known for coming on strong at the beginning and waning in the later rounds. It was just a matter of wearing the woman down and conserving energy.

So she thought, but apparently not tonight.

Molly was sure she’d pivoted to the left enough to avoid panther chick’s next blow, but it partway caught her in the mouth just as she shot out with her right hand and delivered a good hit to the panther shifter’s stomach. Molly threw her hand up to cover her mouth and watched the other woman double over from the gut punch. The steady roar of the crowd made her head pound, fists shaking inside her gloves. Her vision warped and wobbled as she swallowed down mouthfuls of blood from the shot to her face.

Molly decided it was time to take a risk. She couldn’t let the bitch get the upper hand so fast, not with strength and speed and this shifter gift obviously in her corner. She ducked behind her, pivoted, and tried to play follow the leader to get the girl back on the ropes. She mentally begged her to play along, wishing she had listened for the woman’s fighting name before this so she could taunt her and get her riled up. She dodged another blow and counter-returned a hit that panther girl blocked hard, letting out a roar that was definitely animal-like. The impact of the blow rocked all the way past Molly’s wrist and up her arm until her chest constricted with fear. She swallowed, catching another hit, this time to the ribs. This one knocked the wind out of her to the point that she was struggling to regain her balance.

Her opponent smiled and the bright show of teeth made Molly’s knees go weak at first from the overconfidence filling the other woman’s eyes. After a second that smug expression on panther chick just served to piss Molly off even more. She struck out a blind blow and got in a half-hit on the woman’s chin. It wasn’t a solid hit, but the girl took a quick stagger back. It was enough to give Molly some breathing room. Her lips twitched, adrenaline speeding through her veins.

So close. So damn close.

The next blow came out of nowhere, as though the woman had closed the distance by magic. That punch caught her by surprise, feeling like a fist driving into one side of her cheekbone and out the other side of her face. Her world tilted sideways as sharp, excruciating pain licked up her face. Shit, that was going to leave a badass bruise tomorrow. She could barely think straight, not past the feel of fire spreading across her whole head. Another blow caught her in the stomach and rocked Molly to her knees. All her air went out of her body in a whoosh that hurt as much as the fist flinging past her head.

She needed to get it together and fast.

Too late.

The other woman doled out a sharp uppercut that sent Molly sprawling, desperately wondering if her whole jaw was broken. Tears burned hot behind her shut eyelids. Even after that, she struggled back up onto her feet, weaving as her vision swam. Nausea ripped through her whole body, making her weak in the knees. The bell went off. Once. Twice. She muscled her way up to standing and shakily drew her hands back up to her face.

“I’m. Not. Done.”

There was a deafening roar that nearly shook the rafters and she stumbled backward as something barreled down on her until she was flat against the mat on her back again.

“Touch her and I will rip out your throat.”

Crap. That was Tate lunging at the panther woman. Molly forced her eyes to focus so she could watch what the hell Tate was doing up her opponent’s face.

“Jesus, Tate. I got this! Get out of the ring!”

He turned to face her letting out a roar that nearly left her deaf. That was definitely his bear, because her opponent jerked backward, putting down her hands in surrender.

“Hey man, do what you got to do,” panther girl said. “I don’t want any part of what you’re bringing…” she trailed off, eyeing her sponsors that were ringside.

Molly idly wondered what the referee was going to do, with Tate threatening to take a chunk out of the girl she was fighting. Who’d get the big old pot of prize money? She laughed inwardly at the thought, sure that she was now disqualified for this fiasco. At least he didn’t shift, and the panther girl didn’t either. She knew better. It was not allowed here, with so many humans and other unknown factors.

“We’re leaving—
now
,” Tate growled down at her on the mat. His eyes were glowing, the way she’d only seen him once. It was after he had transformed into his bear at the clubhouse a few months ago.

Before she could say another word he muscled her up onto her feet and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. No matter how hard she fought against his back and neck and, he didn’t stop. He only let her down when they passed the dark hallway and inside the fighters’ locker rooms. Rage pooled in her belly and all she could think of was to push him into the lockers and wail on him until she had no energy left.

“Who the hell do you think you are,” she screamed. “You acted like I can’t handle myself when things get serious. You had no right to do that!”

“What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You.” He didn’t pose it as a question while he paced across the cheap locker room tiles. He took a deep breath, and then he staggered backward, taking a seat in one of the wooden benches nearby. It was as if someone had driven him to his knees.

Molly’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t say a word as she sat on the bench beside him.

“Moll…” His face drained of all color. “Fuck…there’s no way…I didn’t know you were…” he all but babbled.

When he shook his head, she looked away, putting her head in her hands. “Ouch,” she groaned out, grimacing at her own touch. The stinging sensation made her realize she’d probably have to assess her body for damage soon.

“So glad… I got you out of there… how in the hell didn’t I notice…”

“What are you saying, Tate?” she drawled, sick of his bullshit antics all night.

“You’re…I can’t believe it… you’re…”

“What? I’m what? Injured? Of course I’m banged up a bit. That was a serious fight for serious money.”

“No. Not that…I half-shifted to let out my bear out there just now.”

“So what? What do your impulse control issues have to do with me?”

“You’re…Jesus, you’re pregnant.” He choked out the words as if they’d hurt him.

She stared at him in disbelief. He was delirious. That had to be it, because he was mistaken. There had to be a mistake, and he couldn’t have said what she thought she’d heard. It was insane.

“Um, no. I’m really not,” she sputtered, licking her lips and wincing as she tasted blood. “Are you out of your mind, or is this your way of trying to stop me from going back into that ring?”

“You’re pregnant, Molly. I’m serious. Do you think I’d joke about this?” Their eyes locked, and for the first time, she clocked the terror mixed with awe and shock swimming behind his pupils.

She didn’t care. He’d messed up her fight and she was pissed. Her palm cracked a hard slap against the side of his cheek. It stung like a bitch, but it was cathartic as hell. “You’re a lying piece of shit, Tate. That’s not true and you know it.”

He caught her hand to stop her from doing it again. “My bear can smell it. Your scent is different. I’m not wrong…you need to believe me.”

“No!” She fought him but his sober expression scared the hell out her when he wouldn’t admit this was some sick joke. “I would know, damn it! It’s my body. Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but knock it off. This isn’t funny.”

“You’re right. It ain’t funny that you’re gonna have a baby.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Molly!” He snatched her by the shoulders and shook her until her teeth rattled in her skull. “What the fuck would I gain from this? We’re not together and we’re not exclusive. And you know I’m not exactly the marrying kind. Listen to me. You’re four or five weeks along.”

“This is such bullshit.” His eyes started glowing again, and he started sniffing the air around her. That just freaked her out more. She pulled backward and slid off the bench onto wobbly legs. “We’ll go get you a test. You’ll have to believe me then.”

“Fine, but as soon as this is over with and you see I’m not pregnant, I want you to admit you’re out of your fucking mind. I would know if I was carrying a kid around right now. I would
know
!”

She would…right?

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