Lowlander Silverback (Gray Back Bears #5)(7)

Her breath caught in her throat as something green curdled her stomach. “By who?”

“His people.” Denison leaned back on his barstool and took another bite. “If it’s a shifter you want, Layla, you’ll have to go after a Boarlander.”

“Denison, you know me better than that. I’m not a groupie.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s not his animal side I’m interested in.”

Sadness pooled in Brighton’s green eyes, and he lifted the corner of his mouth in a sympathetic smile. “It would be different if he was like us.”

“Brighton,” Denison warned.

The twins went back to finishing up their food, and Layla counted down her drawer in a daze. The bar was a ghost town by the time the Beck Brothers started packing their guitars into hard cases and coiling the sound system wires neatly to prepare for next week’s show. They were much tidier than Jackson. Barney paid in cash, and just like every other night, Layla called his brother to come pick him up so he wouldn’t drive home sloshed. And when she turned from the phone on the wall, Kong was there, eyes lightened to a muddy green color and wariness etched into every facet of his face.

His lips were set in a grim line as he leaned against the bar top. “I need to close out our tab.”

“Oh. Right.” He wasn’t there to share another unforgettable moment like earlier. This was business. She grabbed his credit card, charged it, and printed out a receipt.

He lifted a brief flicker of a gaze to her, then signed the receipt with a pen she’d slid toward him.

“So,” she said nervously. “The show was good tonight.” She kicked herself for her lame conversation skills. She could talk to anyone other than Kong—the one who mattered the most.

Kong gave her a warning glare, then slammed the pen down and turned for the door. “Let’s go,” he clipped out to his crew, who were watching them from beside the pool table.

“Have a good night,” she called.

Rhett turned around right before he walked out the exit behind the others and threw her a hate-filled glare. What had she ever done to him?

Baffled, she yanked the receipt off the counter and turned to the computer to enter in the tip.

$500.

Layla blinked slowly to ward off the hallucination, but nope, it was still there. In the tip field, Kong had definitely and clearly scribbled in $500, then added it to the twenty-seven dollar bar tab on the total line.

“Wait, what?” she murmured, lifting her frown to the door where Kong had disappeared. Why the hell would he give her such a ridiculous tip?

“Holy shit,” Jake said from over her shoulder. He plucked the receipt from her limp grasp. “I think that’s a new record.”

“I’m so confused. He never even talks to me,” she murmured.

“Maybe he just has money to burn,” Jake said in a stunned tone.

“I can’t accept this.”

“You have to. He already left, and I can’t keep it in our books. The paperwork won’t match up. Damn, Layla, looks like you just had your biggest night.”

“I’ll say. Six hundred thirty-seven dollars in one shift thanks to that tip and the thirty bucks you gave me for making a fool of myself. That will pay more than half of Mac’s mortgage.” But she couldn’t take it. She wasn’t some charity case, and she hadn’t earned this money. A tip, yeah. Five bucks. Maybe ten at the maximum if he was feeling generous. But five hundred dollars? That was insane and way too much. “Do you know where Kong lives?”

“Nobody knows where he lives. Even the bear crews are hard to find in Damon’s mountains. And besides, you shouldn’t be tracking him down to give him his money back. If he gave you this, it’s for a reason. Let him do something nice.”

“Jake, it’s too much, and it doesn’t feel right. I can’t keep this.”

Jake narrowed his eyes and sighed. “I forget what an Honest Annie you are. It’s annoying.”

“Jake, you know everything about the shifters. Where can I find him?”

Jake inhaled deeply and then let it out in a long, irritated breath. “You know that big barn off the old highway? The one near the gulch?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“A man named Judge holds fight nights there on the weekends. Real backwoods shit, so it ain’t safe for you to go alone. Kong usually fights last. Judge likes to pin him against any Boarlanders looking to make a quick buck. Kong is the fighter who draws the crowd and keeps them there betting. It’ll take me a while to close up, but maybe we’ll make it in time.”

Layla couldn’t wait on Jake to close up the bar, though, and risk missing her opportunity to give Kong his money back. She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight with that charity money taunting her. “Thanks, Jake,” she rushed out as she pulled her tips from the drawer and yanked her apron off.

“Where are you going? I said it was too dangerous for you to go alone!” Jake called as she bolted for the door.

“I’ll be fine!” She hoped.





Chapter Three


Cheering echoed from the dilapidated barn through the field to where Layla parked her Civic at the end of a row of cars and trucks. The grass was tall but trampled down by tires as she made her way through one of the tread marks toward the old gray building. If it had been painted, the weather had stripped it away at some point in its history. There was a thin trail of people trickling inside in clusters of twos and threes, so she followed them around the side where two doors had been slid open, revealing a warm glowing light from inside. The building had probably housed eighteen horse stalls before Judge had turned it into a fighting ring. There were still a few stalls on the opposite side that were intact, but the rest had been torn out and tall metal poles held the barn upright now. The crowd was gathered around the middle, but she couldn’t see anything from here.