Page 50 of Cost of Courting

“Who killed Anchor?”

I pause, breaking out into a cold sweat. “How the fuck should I know?” I say, but my voice is thick with panic.

“Yeah, convenient, though. He beats you up and ends up gone!”

“Look, Benson, I didn’t do it. I don’t know anything. I’m ringing up about business.”

I wait, desperately hoping he lets it go.

I know he wants to force me to do other things, but, the truth is, I make him a lot of money with the fights. Apparently, I look so pretty getting beat on. Alphas can be vile.

I count the seconds, almost holding my breath, praying he doesn’t argue with me. Call me out or ask questions.

“Okay, tonight you fight. Four fights.”

I pause, the air stolen clear from my lungs. “What?”

“Four. If you can win at least three, the debt is cleared. This is because I know you know something. Anchor was a valuable asset to me. Hammer’s stepping up now, though.”

My mind blanks. Three fights against what will most probably be three alphas. The fourth will be against Hammer. He’s an alpha about a foot taller than me and just as wide, but his eyes are cold and dead. He can fight really well and is normally the guy Benson sends to collect on debts. He has no empathy or mercy. He’s a killer to the core.

“Easy,” I say with a cocky bravado that I don’t feel.

“See you tonight, Selene.” His deep chuckle makes my skin crawl.

The phone call ends, and I stand there feeling sick to my stomach. There’s a fizzy, panicked feeling that tries to overtake me, but I can’t let anyone see that I’m scared. I can’t let them know that I don’t know if I can do this.

Who killed Anchor?

There’s only one place I want to be. I go home and crawl through the fence into the backyard of Dot Neilson. She finds me sitting outside with an unlit cigarette in my hand and my feet in her tiny dog pool that is still here despite her Rottweiler having been gone twelve months.

“Selene?”

I toast her with the cigarette. “Came to get my affairs in order.”

She sits down heavily on her patio chair, which is just an old school chair she found on the side of the road.

“How many?”

“Four.”

“Who for?”

“Dulcie.”

“God fucking damnit!”

Dot is an amazingly hard woman. She worked as a nurse at the local hospital for years and years until she hurt her arm, and they let her go. Dot was so busy with her career she never had time for a significant other or kids. She’s got hair down to her ass and kind brown eyes. But she’s seen everything, and it makes her hard and practical and someone who refuses to let me hide behind a mask of bravado.

“Can’t be helped. If I don’t make it back-”

“You better!”

“But if I don’t. Don’t tell Luna or the others what happened and how I’ve been clearing their debts.”

“I’m not going to lie.”

I chew my bottom lip. “You don’t have to lie, just don’t volunteer the information.”

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