by T. S. Joyce
Harrison ghosted her a bright-eyed glance. “Get in the Jeep.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Just get in there until this is through. I don’t want you hurt.”
“Oh.” She scrambled inside but didn’t roll up the window. Not yet.
“If I win,” he said to Clinton, who was now pacing across the road, “no more challenges. You aren’t dominant enough to hold this crew. If you want to be alpha so badly, you’ll find another.”
“Deal.”
Harrison flinched inward, and an instant later, a massive, dark-furred grizzly bruin exploded from his skin. A wave of power passed through Audrey’s window and over her skin, lifting the fine hairs on her body with chills. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he charged the blond grizzly. They crashed with the force of an avalanche. Roaring, clawing, and slapping echoed through the valley. Clinton’s impossibly long canines flashed in the instant before he sank them into the muscular hump between Harrison’s shoulder blades, but the dark brawler hooked his arm around Clinton and slammed him to the ground. In a flurry of violence, his teeth were on Clinton’s neck, and the blond bear froze underneath him. Harrison held him there, the promise of death in his eyes. So easily, he could rip Clinton’s throat out. So easily, he could end his life, but he didn’t. Instead, he released him and walked away with long, powerful strides. He stood on his hind legs and roared, then shrank back into his human skin. He walked right past her Jeep and into the first trailer in the park.
Audrey sat there plastered to her seat, too shocked to move or breathe as Clinton transformed into his human body again and spat red onto the white gravel road. He gave her a death glare, then pushed himself up and limped into one of the trailers at the end of the road.
When she dared a look to the side, Bash was standing there leaned against her window, slurping a pizza roll straight off a paper plate.
She startled hard and gasped. How had she, with her heightened senses, not noticed him approach?
“You wear a lot of perfume,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just watched his crew go to battle. “Smells like flowers and pesticide.”
“Thank you?”
“I knew it. Texas manners.”
“It’s really not just Texas—”
“Pizza roll?” He held the paper plate through the window.
Out of politeness, she took one and smiled.
“Say it,” he urged through a bright grin.
With a sigh, she muttered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bash arched his eyebrows and nodded, apparently proud of himself. “My dick is even bigger than Harrison’s.”
“Okay, I’m going to go talk to him now,” she said, pushing the door open.
“By like a centimeter probably, but it counts as bigger.”
Her cheeks were on fire as she ducked her gaze and sidled around the Jeep at a fast clip. She didn’t bother knocking on Harrison’s closed door but, instead, let herself in to escape Bash, who was following close behind.
“I like your hair,” he rushed out as she closed the door behind her.
She pressed her back against the door and tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Apparently Harrison was fine with his trailer looking like a cave.
The only light filtered in through an open window over his kitchen sink. The riiip of first-aid packaging sounded from where Harrison stood with his profile to her in front of the sink.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, snarly voice.
The air was too thick in his den. “Is it always like this for you?”
“Like what?”
“Violent? Unsettled? Cora Keller’s website said you had seven bears under you, and that dominance was already established.”
“Well, Cora’s updates didn’t include Clinton. It takes one bad apple to spoil the bunch.” Harrison inhaled deeply and tried to press a wash cloth over the puncture wounds on his back, but the injury was out of reach.
She couldn’t stand this. The light switch made a single click under her fingertip. She padded into the kitchen, then took the soaking cloth from him. As she dabbed the blood from the puncture wounds on his back, she asked, “And Clinton is that bad apple?”
“Yes.” Harrison gripped the edge of the sink and sighed. “No, that’s not fair of me. He’s just spiraling, and he’s taking the rest of us with him. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I accepted him after he left the Gray Backs. I didn’t realize how much shit Creed put up with to manage troubled bears. He’s better than me at this.” Harrison turned and ticked up a sad smile, just there and gone in a moment. “The Boarlanders are the new C-team now.”
His eyes were still too bright, but he didn’t feel as heavy anymore, and the feral lines of his face had relaxed.
Audrey dropped her gaze and fidgeted with the damp cloth. “You won’t need bandages. The bite mark is already closed up.” She dared a glance to the bullet scars on his torso. “Were you shot?”
Harrison grabbed her wrist and stopped her from touching one. When had she reached for him?
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Say your piece and be done, Audrey. Like I told you, this isn’t the place for you.”
Or it was the exact kind of place for her.
Audrey reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded stack of papers she’d printed off at the hotel she was staying in. “This is why I’m here.”
With a slight frown, Harrison released her wrist and accepted the papers. He unfolded them carefully and read the first page and then the second, his frown deepening. “I don’t understand. I didn’t write any of this.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. So, you probably thought I was crazy last night, but to me, I’d come all the way here to finally meet a man I’d fallen for. A man who is obviously not you.”
“Worms,” he murmured absently. His eyes narrowed to slits as he read from a column of their online conversation. “Fake Harrison talked to you about different kinds of worms.”
“Yeah, that was a weird conversation.”
His chest rattled with a soft growl, and he clutched the paperwork tightly in his fist. “I think I know who did this. I’m sorry you got caught up in whatever is happening, but I didn’t have anything to do with you coming here.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes burned with how badly she’d been taken advantage of. “I know. I just feel pretty stupid. I spent most of my savings to get here. And then I still have these feelings for you because yours is the picture I saw all this time we were fake-dating, and it’s hard telling my heart to stop feeling.”
“Audrey,” he drawled, but she hated the pity in his voice so she rushed onward.
“I know whoever did this isn’t anything like you. I realized that last night. This person is talkative and outgoing, and you seem to have a lot going on right now that makes you quiet and a little reckless.”
“Reckless how?”
“The kiss.”
Harrison ran his hand over his hair and stared down at the papers in his hand. “Oh, that.”
“Full disclosure—that was the best kiss I’ve ever had, by a lot, and it made all this even more confusing.”
“Bangaboarlander.com,” he read as he narrowed his eyes at the logo on the paperwork. “Why were you on this website, anyway? You’re a nice woman, a beautiful woman.” He jerked his chin toward his kitchen window. “You don’t want this life, Audrey. You could have something normal with a regular human man.”
Sadness tugging at her heart, Audrey smiled. She’d tried and failed epically at that. “Yeah, well, I just wanted to explain the mix-up before I left town. I didn’t want to be the story you told years from now about the crazy lady who thought she was your instant mate.” Audrey set the washcloth on the counter. “It was nice to meet you, Harrison.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t what you expected,” he rushed out just as she was about to walk through the front door.
Audrey gripped the knob. “W
ell, that’s part of the problem. You were better.”
His eyes were glowing in the dim lighting, and she committed to memory the vision of him in this exact moment. Beautiful, dominant, powerful, scarred-up shifter. He could’ve been a match for her animal, but he wasn’t invested in the relationship like she was.
“Goodbye, Harrison.”
“Bye,” he murmured in a dazed voice.
And as she made her way down his sagging porch stairs, she blinked back tears. Now would be the hard part. Now she would have to go back to Texas feeling emptier than when she’d left.
Now she would have to rip her heart away from the stranger who had stolen it.
Chapter Four
Harrison gritted his teeth against yet another bone-deep wave of anger and grabbed the stack of papers from the front seat. He shoved his pickup door open and made his way across the gravel road of the Grayland Mobile Park toward where the alpha, Creed, was working on a bobcat near the edge of the clearing.
The Gray Backs were out in full force, partying around a built-in brick fire pit in the center of the trailer park. He wished Clinton wouldn’t fight fixing up the Boarland Mobile Park so he could create something like this for his crew. Maybe some of them wouldn’t have left if he could’ve done things differently and given them a place worth staying for. Any time he did repairs, though, Clinton’s control faltered, and he accused Harrison of fixing it up to attract women and cubs.
“Hey,” Creed greeted him as he wiped his grease-covered hands on a dirty cloth.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Uh-oh,” the dark-haired alpha said, leaning his elbow on the yellow machine. “That sounds bad.” With a twitch of his chin at his crew, he asked, “Which one did what?”
He should definitely leave the worst for last with Creed. “First, I wanted to know if I could syphon some help from you. My cutters are just a skeleton crew now, and I can’t keep up with the jobsites if I don’t get some help. Kong is giving me Kirk until the end of logging season, but I need at least one more able body in order to get the trees cut before you and the Ashe Crew start.”
“Oh, shit. How many do you have left?”
“Clinton and Bash.”
Creed took a step back and drew up straight. “Holy hell, Harrison. How are you still upright? Losing one member is hard, but you lost most of your damned crew. Why did they leave?”
“Liam left to move closer to the mother of his kid so he could share custody, Darin met a girl out of state and followed her, and the rest…well, you know.”
“Clinton?”
“He’s killing me, man. I don’t know how you put up with his shit.”
“He wasn’t so bad when I had him. Sure, he was a pain about girls coming into the trailer park, but when we started pairing up, he ran to your crew. He’s acting bad now because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He fled two crews before he came to me.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
Creed looked sick. “Yeah part of it, and it’s his story to share. It’s not my place to tell you.”
“Don’t worry about it, man. I get it. That stuff’s personal. I’m not the alpha he needs, or he would’ve opened up to me sooner. Instead, he’s focused on pushing every bear out of the Boarlanders. Hell, he’s challenged me for alpha four times this week. If he gets to Bash, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Kick him out then. Or put him down.”
“Creed,” Harrison said through a frown. “That’s fucked up, man.”
“And do you think any other alpha would’ve put up with having his crew pushed out? How many bonds have you had to break to get to skeleton crew status? That’s poison right there, Harrison. Any other alpha would’ve cut him off or put him down.”
“Would you?”
Creed dragged his dark gaze to his crew of misfits and scratched his jaw with his thumbnail. “No,” he admitted low. “Clinton had potential when he lived here.”
“And do you still think he does?”
“I’m not his alpha anymore, Harrison. It’s not my call. It’s yours.” Creed crossed his arms over his chest and stared thoughtfully at his crew who were joking and laughing near a table stacked with odd-looking food.
The breeze shifted and Harrison nearly retched. Whatever they were feasting on stunk like hell.
“Look,” Creed continued, “all my bears are mated and working on families. They won’t move to your crew even temporarily without bringing their mates, and Clinton won’t do well with that. The only floater I have is Mason, and I can tell you right now, he’s hunting for a mate. He won’t follow your bullshit rule about no women at your trailer park, so if you want him, you’ll have to lift that. He deserves to find someone.”
“Yeah, Kong told me the same about Kirk, and Bash’s bear is ready for a mate, too. Clinton is going to lose his shit.”
“Let him. He’s made his problem all of your problem for too long. It’s tough love time, and if he doesn’t like it, he can run, just like he always does.”
“To where? There’s no more bachelor crews around here.”
“That’s not your problem. That’s his. Mason is in town right now, but I’ll ask him to help your crew out this season as soon as he gets back.”
“I sure appreciate it, man.”
“No problem. I don’t even know how you’re still sane after breaking bonds, so I’ll help however I can until you get your crew back on its feet.”
“If I can.”
“You will. If I can get those idiots to get along,” Creed said, gesturing to the Gray Backs, “you can handle the Boarlanders. You want to say hi to Georgia while you’re here? She’s been bummed lately. She says you’ve been avoiding her when she’s out on patrol.”
“Shit. I didn’t think she would notice.” He was closer with the park ranger than any of the Gray Backs. She’d saved his life when poachers came after him, and at the cost of her humanity. She was a shifter because her mate, Jason, had Turned her to save her, but she bore the same bullet-hole scars he did. Harrison usually checked in on her while she was on patrol around his territory, but he’d been steering clear so his shit mood wouldn’t worry her. “I’ll make it right, but it’s not her I’m here to talk to.”
Creed’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Your resident worm farmer.”
Creed shook his head and turned back to his work on the bobcat. “No can do today, Harrison. It’s bad timing.”
Bad timing? Everyone looked happy enough. The Gray Backs were cracking up as they ate that atrocious-smelling food. Jason was gagging while Gia clapped him on the back and barked out a laugh. There was a big, hand-painted sign strung between two of the trailers that said Happy Pre-Baby Party, and the table was decorated with pink and blue balloons. Tiny, nerdy, red-headed Willa, the worm-lovin’ woman herself, was sitting on a lavish, toilet-paper-decorated throne with a crown and a scepter as she ate what looked like a cracker with mustard and sardines.
“Is Willa pregnant?”
“No,” Creed muttered. “She and Matt decided they are ready to try for a baby, so apparently that decision warrants a party.”
Matt sat in another make-shift throne with a huge swollen belly that Clara, Damon’s mate, was covering in strips of dripping paper-mache. And as Matt took a deep swig of beer, Aviana was painting Future Alpha over the swell of his stomach.
“Is Matt wearing a pregnancy belly?”
“That he is. And my totally normal crew is currently eating all of the insane pregnancy cravings Willa has imagined she will have. The cake is made of capers and beans.”
“Barely Alpha!” Willa called out to Creed. “Come try this banana dipped in pickle juice.”
But when her eyes landed on Harrison, she said, “Eeee,” stood slowly, then began tiptoeing toward her trailer.
“Bangaboarlander-dot-com,” Harrison called out. “Willa, we need to talk.”
“I think I’m having Braxton Hicks contractions,” she called
, clutching her tiny stomach.
Creed sighed an irritated sound and said, “Good God, Willa, come here.”
She hunched her shoulders under his command. “Fine.” She kicked gravel and pouted the entire way to Harrison. “You’re going to ruin my party.”
“You ruined some lady’s life, Willa, so I don’t have sympathy for you right now.”
“What lady?” she asked too innocently as she shoved her thick glasses farther up her nose.
Harrison handed her the printed stacks of conversations Willa had with Audrey under the guise that she was actually Harrison. “Audrey showed up to Shifter Night the other day, thinking I asked her to come.”
Creed yanked the papers out of Willa’s hand and began to read them.
Willa’s little pixie face morphed into a dastardly smile. “She showed up then?”
“Yeah, but why the hell are you running a website with fake accounts for me, Bash, and Clinton? Bash hacked your site, and it has hundreds of hits on each of our made-up profiles.”
“Okay, okay, okay, I can explain. I started Bangaboarlander as a way to prank Clinton because he’s a whiney B-hole. Please tell me you saw his profile.”
“Yeah. Clinton Fuller, age twenty-eight, nymphomaniac, giant penis, no STDs, wants tons of kids, loves to give flowers and cuddle, immediately ready for a mate, net worth: a billion dollars. And then you listed his actual phone number.”
Willa laughed, holding her belly as she doubled over. “I love that part. Have any of his admirers called him?”
“All the damned time. He threw his phone into Bear Trap Falls the other day and then lost all control. He changed for an entire day and has been on a tear ever since.”
Willa pursed her lips and stifled another round of giggles.
“This isn’t funny.”
But when Harrison looked over at Creed for some backup, the alpha of the Gray Backs wasn’t even trying to hide his smile. “It’s kind of funny.”
“Yeah, except Audrey got hurt in this! She spent most of her savings getting here, and I didn’t even know we were in a relationship!”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Willa asked as she pulled her dyed red hair into a spiky pony-tail on top of her head.
