Page 1 of Fighting Furry

CHAPTER ONE

My rental truck bumped over the potholes of the muddy dirt road, bouncing me so high in the driver's seat that I bashed my head on the low ceiling. I gripped the steering wheel to hold myself in place, using every one of the muscles I'd earned from years of lifting and hard work. I yearned for the paved streets of LA. The city traffic and the gridlock was still a million times better than this. I bumped over an exposed tree root and almost bottomed out in a deep pothole. The road sloped up the side of the mountain at what felt like a ninety-degree angle. Ahead of me were the Rocky Mountains rising to the clouds, and below me, way, way below me, was the valley.

I gripped the wheel tighter, spun around a final bend, and the road widened and flattened a bit into what appeared to be a main street. There were about ten blocky buildings that declared their purpose with bland, uncreative signs simply stating their purpose, such as Groceries, Liquor, and Jail. They were all shoved together, the mountain rising still higher around them.

This so did not look like the sort of place I'd expected my cousin Krista, a petite, delicate blond with a love of all things pink and fragile, to live. When she said she lived in a small Colorado town, I'd imagined a condo in a ritzy ski town, not a few buildings on the side of a mountain, population seventy-five. In retrospect, I guess Krista did warn me Mule Creek was rustic, but I'd never been far from LA and my idea of rustic was clearly hugely different than hers.

There were a few beat-up trucks parked along the side of the road, most of them in front of a building declaring it offered Hot Food. I continued past a building labeled Doctor and almost missed the subtler street sign for Cherry Tree Lane. I spun the wheel hard, spraying mud as I took the corner. In my hurry, I didn't see another huge pothole and I hit it hard, this time bouncing so high I bashed my head on the ceiling and saw stars.

A dark shape darted from the forest onto the road in front of my truck. I slammed on the brakes and skidded in the slick mud. A wolf with pitch black fur leaped out of the way seconds before my bumper made contact, stopped on the other side of the narrow road, and turned to look at me. There was so much mud now covering the side window, I wasn't sure what I was seeing, but I could have sworn the wolf was glaring at me and shaking his head as though he were disappointed. Weren't wolves supposed to be wary of people? At the very least, they should be wary of people in over-sized hunks of metal.

I stared back at the wolf for just a moment. Were his eyes actually glowing? I shook my head. It must be a trick of the light. I pressed the gas, having to gun it a bit to get through the mud and, when I glanced in the rear-view mirror, the wolf was gone.

I'd been in hicksville, USA for less than ten minutes and I was already losing my mind. Krista's small, blue, craftsman-style house was about a block from Main Street, just as she'd said it would be. It was sandwiched between two similar-looking houses, all with steep driveways. I was a bit worried about the foundations, since it looked like they'd been tacked to the side of the mountain with Elmer's Glue. I could only imagine what the place would be like in winter, with snow up to the eaves, but I had no intention of staying that long. I was there strictly to heal and get back to fighting form.

The paved driveway led to the back of the house and a single-car carport. The house was longer than I'd thought from the street and the backyard was tiny and fenced. It was adorable and would probably cost an arm, a leg, and my first-born if it was in LA. I parked, grabbed my bag, and looked for the frog-shaped sculpture that Krista had told me hid her key. The sun was setting, and though the yard was smaller than my bathroom in LA, it had dark corners and tons of plants. Using the flashlight app on my phone, I checked the plants by the back porch first, but found nothing and moved into the yard, my shoes squelching in the wet, muddy grass. It started to sprinkle, the rain cold. It was August, it should be hot, but I was shivering as cold rain slid under my collar and down my bare back. I'd dressed for LA in a tank top and shorts, and my whole body was turning into one big goosebumpy shiver.

I searched one corner of the yard and then the other, and finally found an ugly, chipped frog under an enormous fern next to a small pond. I lifted the frog, grabbed the key, and started back across the yard toward the house. When a dark shadow floated across the lawn toward me, I froze.

I brushed the rain from my eyes and squinted to make out the tall figure. Of course, the rain decided to come down harder, obscuring my view. “Can I help you?” I asked. I dropped my duffel to the ground and widened my stance, preparing to fight if I had to. I slid the key between my fingers, a good weapon in case the guy was stronger than me.

The shadow moved closer and I could see it was an elderly man, his skin lined and leathery, his face shadowed by the hood of an over-sized rain jacket. “What are you doing in Miss Krista's yard, girl?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

Normally, I'd take offense at being called girl, but he was elderly and we were in hicksville, so I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I forced my lips up into my best approximation of a smile, though I was wet and cold, and wanted to get inside. “Krista is my cousin. I'm house sitting while she's out of town.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked me over. “You don't look nothing like Krista.”

“We're cousins by marriage, but we've always been close as blood.”

He stepped closer and grinned, revealing three missing teeth. “Well, I'll be damned. Krista told me her famous cousin Julie Jacobs would be staying here for a bit and I didn't believe her. Didn't recognize you. You look like you been dragged through a sewer.”

“I wasn't prepared for the rain. Now that you know who I am, you think I can go inside?”

“'Course you can.” He stepped to the side and gestured toward the house. “Julie fucking Jacobs. I'll be hogtied and bushwhacked.”

I picked up my duffel and started toward the house. I kept the key between my fingers, because I wasn't a complete and total idiot.

Neighbor guy followed me onto the porch, his steps heavy on the wood planks. I spun, armed with a smile, but tensed and ready to shove the old man down the stairs if he got too close. Call me paranoid, but I'd been a victim once, and I'd never be a victim again.

The old man stood at the top of the stairs, his features clearer in the glow of the motion sensing light. He pushed off his hood. “I'm Henry Broward,” he said. “I live right next door and I been taking care of Miss Krista's place while she's out of town. You need anything, you just holler.” He grinned, his brown eyes lit, and I got the impression he'd been drop-dead gorgeous in his younger years.

“Okay, thanks.”

He didn't move, just kept staring. “I was real sorry about your last fight,” he said. “A real shame that was.”

I lifted my left arm into the light so he could see my cast. I'd been kicked in the arm in my last fight and broken my elbow and a couple bones in my arm. It was a bad break, one that had required surgery and pins. People who were supposedly experts in MMA said I'd never fight again. They were idiots. Sure, I'd pulled my right shoulder in a fight last year, and torn my ACL in a fight the year before that, and okay, I'd lost a few fights lately, but I wasn't just going to give up and throw in the towel. I was only twenty-four, I had at least a decade of fighting left in me. “I'll get back out there,” I said. “I'm just here to heal up.”

Henry nodded, but I didn't miss the look on his face. It was the same look I'd seen on the doctor's face when I told him I'd prove him wrong and fight again. It was the same look on my coach's face and on my best friend, Shelly's, face when I'd told them I'd be back to training in six weeks. The same look I'd seen on my boyfriend's face, the same look that was the reason he was now my ex-boyfriend. No one believed in me, but me. That would be enough. “I sure hope so,” Henry said. He raised a gnarled hand in farewell, but stopped before starting down the steps. He gave me a stern look. “I'm sure Krista warned you, but don't forget. It's a full moon tonight, so you're gonna wanna stay inside.” He looked around like someone might pop out of the shadows at any moment. “And lock your door.”

Krista hadn't said anything about staying inside, or about her neighbor being a kook. I didn't have any plans to go anywhere, anyway. “Sure thing, Henry. Have a good night.”

He studied me for a long moment before he shook his head, muttered something about kids never listening to old folks, and hobbled down the stairs. I watched him go and then I let myself into Krista's place. The first room was a fully-decked out, state-of-the-art kitchen. I dropped my duffel on the floor and bent to pull off my boots. My bad knee shrieked in protest, but I didn't take a seat on the floor, I bit my lip and worked through the pain, pulling off one boot after the other.

My knee always got sore in damp weather, but I wasn't about to accept that it limited me in any way. I was twenty-four years young, dammit. I would not sit to take off my boots like an old woman. I picked up my bag and hobbled though the house, turning on lights as I went. My knee was decidedly unhappy with me, so I forced myself not to limp. Mind over matter, that was the only way I'd get back in the cage again.

The house wasn't huge, but it was minimally decorated, which made it feel more spacious. There was way too much pink for my taste, but I could handle it for a couple of weeks. I found the least pink bedroom, dropped my duffel on the bed, and pulled out some dry clothes. I searched the bag for something warm, but all I'd packed was tank tops and shorts, because it was August, damn it. After I'd changed into the one pair of jeans I'd brought and a t-shirt, I laid down on the bed, slipped my cell phone from my back pocket, and dialed.

“Hello?” Shelly said. She had a cell phone like everyone else on god's green planet, but she still answered the phone like she didn't know who was calling.

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