Stryker's Desire

by Meg Ripley

  He took his phone out of his pocket and fiddled with the screen, bringing up the last exchange with Marisol. His brothers didn’t understand the friendship he’d struck up with the younger woman, and they certainly wouldn’t understand the sharp pang of disappointment he’d felt when she walked away, leaving him alone with Cady. He had no desire to explain himself to them, but if he did, he might point out that she was one of the brightest people he ever met, and certainly the kindest. And goddamn, that girl knew her bulls.

  What he couldn’t explain to them or to himself was why he would rather talk to her about bulls than take Cady to bed. What he didn’t even want to consider was everything else he wanted to do with Marisol—well, he wanted to consider it, but he didn’t dare. Not only was her friendship too great for him to risk, but her father’s opinion mattered too much. Ernie was a good man and a hell of a good bull fighter, and would do his job to the best of his abilities. But sometimes he was all that stood between Dean and 2000 pounds of raging death, and so Dean thought it best to stay in the man’s good graces and leave his daughter alone.

  And so he treated Marisol as gently and courteously as he would treat his own sister. Fortunately, she didn’t appear to have any inclination to see him as more than just her brother, so it was easy to keep his distance.

  He flipped through his phone and found the one picture he had of her. She stood in her food truck, smiling broadly and waving at him. He hadn’t given it any real thought at the time. He had his phone in his hand and felt the impulse to snap a photo. Maybe because she looked so happy to see him. Her face was lit with an expression of joy so warm that it always kindled something in his chest. Nobody else had ever made him feel that good.

  Dean tucked his phone away and pulled his hat low over his eyes. He kept the image of her smile in front of him as he slipped into sleep.

  ****

  Cody, Wyoming was a small town. Even in the summer, when the borders swelled with cowboys and rodeo fans and tourists passing to and from Yellowstone, the town never exceeded a population of five thousand. Word spread quickly in a town that size, and it spread like wildfire on a windy August afternoon when that word included mention of an animal attack.

  A bear attack, Ernesto had said.

  “Are they sure it was a bear?” Marisol asked, her breakfast forgotten.

  “Well, sweetheart, there’s no mistaking a bear attack.”

  “But that close to town? Bears don’t come this close, do they?”

  “Only the ones who already live here,” Anna said.

  “Now, Anna, there’s no evidence—”

  “Evidence? That man was killed only a mile from our home, and you’re talking about evidence?”

  “Yes,” Ernesto said patiently, eating his huevos rancheros as though they were discussing their daily business. Watching him prompted Marisol to pick up her fork and she did her best to mimic him, but her appetite was gone. “I am talking about evidence because I need that to make my judgement.”

  “Mari, your curfew is eight until this bear is found,” her mother announced.

  “Eight? But that means I can’t work the truck. And I’ll miss the bulls.”

  “Good. You spend too much time at the rodeo grounds. You should be spending more time studying.”

  Marisol looked to her father, but the slight shake of his head told her to cede the battle for now. If she pushed, Anna was likely to ban her from the rodeo entirely—and that would include her friendship with a certain amateur bull rider. They finished their breakfast in tense silence, Mari silently counting down the seconds until she could clean the dishes and flee the house. As soon as she stepped outside, she made a beeline for her best friend’s house. Her father was a sheriff’s deputy, and she most certainly had the inside scoop.

  “It’s a bear shifter,” Rachel announced. “No doubt about it.”

  “Did your dad say that?”

  “Yes, that’s how they’re handling the investigation.”

  “But if it’s a shifter, wouldn’t that be murder?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Sure, if they could prove motive. Most likely the bear is looking at a manslaughter charge.”

  “How do they know it was a shifter and not just a regular bear?” Marisol pressed. As far as she knew, there was only one family of shifters in Cody.

  “Well, don’t mention this to anybody because they didn’t tell this to the press, but there were footprints.”

  “Footprints?”

  “Yep, two sets of human tracks and one set of bear tracks.”

  “So maybe there was another victim?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No, two people arrived. It looks like one of them turned into a bear and the other one died. And trust me, Marisol, you don’t want to know any more about how that happened.”

  “Was it grisly?”

  “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

  It might have been morbid, but Marisol’s curiosity was piqued. “Come on, Rachel, you can tell me. I can take it.”

  “Well, this shifter, whoever he is, is hungry. Very hungry. Hungry enough that my dad and the sheriff both think he’ll attack again.”

  “Don’t tell my mom that. She’ll never let me leave the house.” Marisol wanted to press for more details, but Rachel looked a little green. “I have to be home by eight tonight.”

  “You have a curfew?”

  “I do now.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it, girl. I didn’t even pay attention to curfews back when we were fifteen.”

  “They let me live there rent free all summer, they’re paying for my school, and my mom only did it because she’s afraid. Who can blame her? It just sucks, though.”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Dean asked me to meet him tonight after the rodeo.”

  Mention of Dean brought an interested light to Rachel’s eye. “Oh, your handsome cowboy. How is he?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Is tonight the night?”

  “He’s great. He won the purse last night. And tonight is not ‘the night’ because I have a curfew at eight, remember?”

  “Sneak out,” Rachel said flatly.

  “I can’t sneak out. If Mom catches me, she’ll flip her lid.”

  “Okay, you must sneak out. Sneak being the operative word. Just don’t get caught.”

  Rachel was looking at her like it was the most obvious choice in the world. “Why must I sneak out?”

  “He wants to hook up with you, you dummy!”

  “Hook up?” Marisol shook her head. “No, he’s just...we’re just friends. We meet after the rodeo all the time. It’s no big deal.”

  “If it’s no big deal, why are you so disappointed?”

  “Because maybe I want it to be a hook up.” Marisol wouldn’t have admitted it to anybody else, but Rachel had been her best friend since the girls were twelve. Over the past ten years, they shared every dream, confided every secret. “He’s so hot, Rach. And sweet. And talented. And...big.” She sighed. “But he just likes to talk to me about bulls.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Grab his dick and tell him you’d rather talk about that.”

  Marisol snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll go well.”

  “It’ll go great. How did he look when he asked you to meet him?”

  “I don’t know. He texted me last night.”

  “When? Before or after you went to bed?”

  “After.”

  Rachel smiled. “Oh, honey, this is a hookup. I don’t care what time your curfew is, if you want this man, you can’t blow him off tonight.”

  “I wasn’t going to blow him off. I was just going to tell him that I can’t make it.”

  “And if he asked you why you can’t make it?”

  “I’ll tell him the truth.”

  “The truth?” Rachel shook her head. “You can’t tell him that you have a curfew like a child—not if you want to ride him like he rides those bulls! What time will your mom get back from the rodeo?”

/>   “Eleven.”

  “Asleep by twelve?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Perfect. Sneak out your window at 12:30.”

  “And what if I run into the bear?”

  Rachel’s smile faded. “Oh, right. Well, tell him you can’t make it. Maybe he’ll still be interested in a week, or a month, or whenever it’s safe to leave the house again.”

  That was the most sensible thing to do. Sit tight and stay safe, just like her mother wanted. “It’s not that far to the rodeo grounds.”

  “It’s pretty close,” Rachel agreed.

  “I bet I’ll be back by two.”

  “At the very latest.”

  “And maybe the bear already moved on.”

  “Probably.”

  Marisol took a deep breath. “Okay, it’s settled. Now help me figure out what I’m going to wear, what I’m going to say, and what I’m going to do.”

  “I’m so proud. Look at my little girl, all grown up.” She wrapped her arm around Marisol’s shoulder and gave her a warm hug. “Let’s get to work!”

  ****

  In the two years since Dean met Marisol, he never knew her to miss a night of the rodeo. From what he understood, she’d never missed a single night in her life, and yet, he didn’t see her in her regular spot at the far end of the arena. She didn’t meet her father after the fireworks, and there wasn’t a trace of her at the food truck. Anna had been there, though, and the look she gave him could have withered grass.

  Ralph and Waldo won the team roping event and they were fired up. “Come on! Let’s get a drink. Let’s have some fun for once. It’s dead boring around here at night.”

  “Go out if you want.” Dean didn’t feel much like socializing. He’d been thrown from the bull after only three seconds. His winning ride was long forgotten by him and everybody else.

  “Man, what is up with you lately?” Ralph asked, his eyes creased with irritation at his older brother. Waldo was a silent, perfect shadow of his twin. “You act like having a little fun is some terminal sin.”

  “I’m trying to stay focused.”

  “No, you’re dwelling—and worse, you’re repressing. You know you shouldn’t do that. Remember what happened—”

  “I remember,” Dean said curtly. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “We’ll just go have a drink then,” Waldo called after him.

  Three seconds and he was on his ass in the dirt. He could do better. He had done better. He would do better in the future, and it did no good to dwell on it, but three goddamned seconds. Maybe it was for the best that Marisol was nowhere to be found; he sure didn’t want her to see him go flying.

  “Dean!”

  Dean turned at the sound of his name, trying, and failing, to stop the smile from breaking across his face. He always enjoyed the sight of her, but tonight she seemed a little different, somehow more alluring. She bounded towards him and he barely had time to react before she threw herself at him. He reacted automatically, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest in a tight hug.

  For a moment, the world stopped.

  She felt so good against him, soft and warm and so inviting. He held on for longer than was strictly necessary, closing his eyes and inhaling the warm scent of shampoo and Ivory soap, but eventually, he had to pull away, as much as he loathed the idea.

  “Where were you tonight?” Dean asked. “I didn’t see you.”

  “Oh, Mom gave me the night off to work on some things for school. Do you want to hang around here? I thought we could go for a drive.”

  Dean’s first inclination was to say No, I’m sorry, I can’t. They had no reason—no friendly reason—to go for a drive, and how was he going to keep his hands to himself when they were completely alone? Alone. Away from his obnoxious younger brothers and her watchful parents. Away from town and civilization and the few things that actually kept him from kissing her the way she damned well deserved. Alone was a very bad idea. He knew it, but he still couldn’t quite convince himself to believe it.

  “Yeah, I think a drive would do me good. My truck’s parked over there.”

  He turned and she took his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Truth be told, Dean couldn’t remember if they’d ever walked arm-in-arm before. It seemed very unlikely, and yet, walking with her like that felt so familiar. Like they held each other on every stroll they ever took together.

  “I didn’t get a good ride in tonight.”

  “I heard.”

  “You’re not disappointed, are you?”

  “One bad ride doesn’t mean anything. You know that. Especially not after the purse you won the other night.” She nudged his shoulder and smiled. “One more win like that and you’ll have your card.”

  “And I’ll have one more win like that very soon,” Dean said.

  “When?”

  “The 4th of July.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. You’ll show them all how it’s done.”

  “You seem awfully sure of that.”

  “I’d be willing to bet on it.”

  “How much?”

  Marisol looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “A kiss.”

  “So, if I win the purse, I’ll also get a kiss from the prettiest girl in the arena?” Dean asked.

  “Not if. When.”

  He grinned. “Well, now I have a reason to really kick some ass.”

  Marisol sighed. “I hope I’ll be there to see it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, um...school. I hope I don’t have school that weekend.”

  “On the 4th of July weekend?”

  “Yeah, it would be pretty silly to hold class on the 4th. That’s a good point. So, I guess I’ll be around to see you after all.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” They were at his truck, but he hesitated to open her door. “That’s why you weren’t around tonight? School?”

  “Um, yeah. School.”

  “Do you realize you always say um before you tell a lie?”

  Her gaze instantly darted away from his face, to the area above his right shoulder. “I’m not lying.”

  “What’s going on, Marisol? I don’t need to know why you weren’t there, but I would like to know what possible reason you’d have to lie about it.”

  She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It was… the bear attack.”

  It felt like she’d cinched a rope around his ribcage. “Bear attack?”

  “Yeah. You didn’t hear about him, that poor guy? He was only a few miles from the arena. They said he was...mostly eaten.”

  “What? I hadn’t heard he’d been eaten.”

  “Well, my mom must have heard that part. Or worse. Because she set an eight o’clock curfew.”

  Dean frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  “I didn’t want to stand you up.”

  “You could have sent me a text.”

  Marisol finally met his eyes again and he almost wished she hadn’t. They were twin shards of warm amber and his resolve weakened. “I wanted to see you.”

  “Marisol—”

  “Come on, let’s drive.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh.” She licked her lips, and though her features barely changed, he felt her pulling away from him. “I see.”

  “I mean, it’s late, and if your parents catch you out of the house, what will happen then?”

  “My mom will lose her shit,” Marisol admitted.

  “And then she might keep you from going to the Independence Day celebrations and I won’t get my kiss.” He commented with deliberate lightness, like he wasn’t already imagining what it would be like to have a new buckle in hand and Marisol in his arms. He was still more than half tempted to take her for that drive and damn the consequences. He might have given in to that temptation had she pressed, but she simply nodded.

  “You’re right. I wish you weren’t. I’m twenty-two, I s
hould be able to come and go as I please. Like you. It must be nice.”

  “It’s certainly not bad. But sometimes, I wish I had a home to go back to, you know? I mean, no matter what happens, you know you’ll always have somewhere to go.”

  “Yeah, but living in the RV means you can always find somewhere new to go.”

  “Well, now, that’s true, too. I reckon that’s why I rodeo. You can have the best of both worlds.”

  “I guess I’d better get going.”

  “I’ll walk you home. There is a bear running around, after all.” He offered her his arm and she took it with a pleased smile. His body welcomed the warmth of hers, and he fought the urge to pull her even closer.

  The blue and white bungalow was barely a mile from the arena, and it was a mile that passed all too quickly. She slowed as her house came into sight at the end of the block, and he matched her pace without comment. He had no desire to reach their inevitable parting.

  “Do you think it was a shifter?”

  Dean felt the tightening around his chest again. “Maybe. I suppose that makes sense, given that it happened within the town limits.”

  “How worried do you think we ought to be?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe he ate his fill.”

  “Maybe. Do bears...do you think bears get too hungry? If they aren’t allowed to eat like bears, I mean?”

  “That could be the case. I’ve, uh, heard that shifters must not repress their animal selves. The bear shifters must become a bear and hunt and live like a bear. Perhaps this particular shifter has been trying to live as a human full-time.”

  She tilted her head. “So, bear shifters have to take a break from their regular lives every month to go live in the woods?”

  “It’s not necessary to do so every month. I’ve heard it described as hibernation; the bear can lay dormant for a very long time but when it wakes up, it’s hungry.”

  “Then there’s probably going to be another attack, right? One meal isn’t going to be enough.” She paused for a moment, looking up at the night sky, wringing her hands as she thought about what she intended to confess. Dean, I have something I need to—oh no!”