Page 17 of Flame and Fury

“Can I get one of those?” I point to Wren's beer and then aim a smile at the bartender. She's attractive, in her late twenties, but there's a glint in her eyes I've seen before. She's not some happy-go-lucky woman. Like so many others, this world has not been kind to her. Las Vegas has become a particularly hard place to live. The people who make it their home have to have thick skin.

The bartender raises a brow at Wren and tips her head in my direction.“Is he bothering you?”

Wren grins at the woman like she's made a new best friend when I frown. A chuckle burbles out from Wren's chest. I sigh, knowing she loves even the smallest show of my emotions. It's a hard thing to unlearn. I've been hiding my feelings for so fucking long that I don't know how to turn them back on. But I'm trying.

“He’s fine. Just like a gnat in your ear.”

The bartender nods, then proceeds to fill up a pint. She slaps it down onto the bar in front of me and liquid sloshes over the side.

“You let me know if you need anything else, sugar,” she says to Wren before turning to me. “That’ll be ten dollars.”

How did Wren pay for hers? She doesn't have any money. The remaining champions have teams at our disposal. Need a car, call your team. Need money, clothing, a helicopter...call your team. Wren doesn't have that. She's been alone, getting by on her own for years now. I know how that feels to some extent, but money doesn’t factor into my situation.

I pull out some cash and slide it across the bar. “I’ve got hers too.”

The bartender snatches up the money. “No, I’ve got hers.”

Wren's eyebrows raise, and I'm back to disguising my feelings. It's hard to refrain from smiling at her bewildered look. Wren has no idea how much she's impacted the people watching the Olympus Games. She's so far removed from the world of televised broadcasts that it's probably never occurred to her that people know who she is. It’s more than just simple celebrity recognition though, they admire and adore her. She represents the regular folk, those who get swept up in the games without their permission. To see her compete against trained champions and win gives them hope.

“Thanks. Are you sure you don't want him to pay, though? He can afford it.” Wren's laughing a little as she jerks her thumb in my direction.

“It's all good.” The woman smiles and heads to the other end of the bar.

As soon as she's out of earshot, Wren swings around to glare at me. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I figured we might be able to discuss things.” I drag my hand through my hair and shake out the water clinging to it from the snowstorm outside. It’s getting long. When the games first started, it was shorn close to my head, but it’s been weeks since it was last cut. “And I thought we could help each other out on this challenge.”

Wren scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Is this some weird ploy to get me to do all the legwork, and then you’re gonna try to steal the win out from under me?” There’s laughter in her voice, but the twinkle in her eyes tells me she’s not totally joking.

I'm never going to live that down. “No, little bird, I don’t need you to figure out the clue for me. I already know who the Boar is.”

“You do?” Wren spins on her stool, glaring at me. Her nostrils flare, her irritation at not figuring it out first clear as day.

“Don’t be upset that I’m smarter than you.” I take a drink of my beer and spot a basket of peanuts behind the bar. I reach over and grab them, setting the nuts between us so Wren can reach. She snatches one up and crushes the shell in her hand, her narrowed eyes never leaving mine.

“Over inflated ego, sure. Smarter, not so much.”

I snap a shell in half, shake out a peanut, and pop it into my mouth before responding. “Debatable.”

Wren opens her mouth, but I keep talking before she can get a word out.

“The Boar is something of a local celebrity, or a nuisance, depending on who you’re getting your information from. He’s got ties to the city from back when half of this town was run by mobsters.”

“So what? He's like some goon?” Wren unfolds a napkin and sweeps the shell crumbs onto it.

“No, actually.” I tip my head back and take in the rainbow of colored bras pinned to the ceiling. It’s an entire spectrum of lingerie, everything from utilitarian white to red silk. I wonder what Wren would wear if she had a choice. I blink and look away from the dangling bras. Gods, I have never been so unfocused in my entire life. Wren makes my thoughts drift, overwhelming me with what ifs every time I’m close to her. What if we’d met on the street, or if I’d stopped into that dive of a bar she worked at in Chicago? What if we were just normal people with a chance to live a normal life? Would we still be attracted to each other? Would the aching want I feel whenever she’s near be as strong?

Yes.

I know, no matter what, that I would want this woman. If she was just a human, it would probably make things a hell of a lot easier. It’s her fierce determination and pride that draws me in every time I lay eyes on her. Not to mention she’s fucking stunning, with her long dark hair and dark blue eyes that hide the secrets of the universe. Even now when she looks half-drowned, the springy curls of her hair flattened and wet and the ridiculousness of her clothing, I can’t keep my eyes off her.

A peanut hits my cheek. “Hello. Are you still with me?”

“Did I just get smacked in the face with a nut?”

Wren’s lips are pressed tightly together like she’s holding in a laugh. She shrugs her shoulders and I shake my head at her, before fixing my unfeeling mask back in place. We left the drones outside the bar, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t eyes and ears everywhere. There might not be cameras in here, but I keep my voice low enough for only Wren. She has to lean in to hear me and it’s a consequence I’m not angry about.

“The Boar is something of a Robin Hood. The clerics and elites hate him because he’s a sneaky son of a bitch. He’s also very well protected by the people of this city. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor. Even when the clerics have threatened people, they refuse to give the Boar up. They’re loyal to a fault.”

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