by Ruby Shae
Zach
(Blackbeary Creek, Book 4)
Ruby Shae
Zach
(Blackbeary Creek, Book 4)
Copyright 2017 by Ruby Shae
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
About This Book
Curvy girl, Rory Jordan, is done with men. After suffering for months with a verbally abusive ex, and nearly losing her identity in the process, she never wants to go on a date again. Not even with the tall, handsome stranger she can’t seem to forget.
Friendly, easygoing, black bear shifter, Zach Hernden, is shocked when he finds his mate in the popular dance club owned by his clan. Sadly, she refuses to go out with him, and he doesn’t immediately have time to try and change her mind.
Not one to give up, Zach tracks down Rory, but mending his mate’s damaged heart won’t be easy. Especially when she recognizes similarities between him and her ex. When Rory realizes her terrible mistake, she has a lot of apologizing to do, but will Zach forgive her, or will she be too late?
Zach
(Blackbeary Creek, Book 4)
By Ruby Shae
Chapter One
Aurora “Rory” Jordan took her ID back from the man guarding the door, and handed the next man a twenty-dollar bill. The closer she got to the inside of the popular dance club, the more she wanted to run.
The man who took her money waved her through, and she cautiously entered the thumping building. Inside, the music was louder, and she felt the bumping bass rattle her bones. The crowd moved wildly to the trendy beats, and again, she fought the urge to run.
God, how long had it been since she’d done anything like this?
Way too long.
She nodded in agreement, but the visible action didn’t turn any heads.
The music was impossible to ignore, and anyone not moving looked strangely out of place. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn’t the odd man out, and it felt better than she thought it would. It had been months since she’d been in any kind of dance club, and she liked the fact that she seemed to fit in, even though she knew it wouldn’t last.
The past six months had been filled with loads of much-needed, self-imposed solitude, but she’d been alone a long time before that.
At least, she had been on the inside.
Thoughts of her ex drifted through her mind, and she couldn’t help the fear that followed.
Fuck! Get him out of your head.
That’s where he’d always been, first with words of love, and then with words of hate.
Except, that wasn’t quite right.
His initial words had been packaged to resemble love, but she was the only one he’d ever fooled. By the time she’d realized the truth, it had been too late. She’d already pushed everyone away.
Luckily, her friends hadn’t given up on her.
She took a deep, calming breath, and scanned the crowd.
When she spotted the four familiar women standing around a high table on the edge of the dance floor, her flight instincts kicked in again. She couldn’t help it. Seeing the women on the front lines, in a place to see and be seen, shouldn’t have surprised her at all, but it did.
It also scared the hell out of her.
At one time, she would have been right there with them. Hell, she probably would have been the first one through the crowd, claiming the table before anyone else could.
God, those days seemed like a lifetime ago.
Nowadays, if she’d gotten here first, they’d be sitting in the back against the wall. The ridiculous thought made her smile. She might aim for the wall, but her friends would never allow it. Their philosophy had never included hiding.
Yours didn’t used to, either.
No, it didn’t.
She forced one foot in front of the other until she reached the table of women.
“Hey guys.”
Knowing her words would be inaudible, she added a little wave with her left hand.
“Rory?”
“Ro?”
“Shit!”
Three of the four women all spoke at once, and then the more obnoxious two squealed so loud they garnered looks from several nearby tables. Not an easy feat, considering the volume of the music.
A minute later, she was smothered in hugs tight enough to make her eyes water.
“All right, let her breathe or we may never see her again.”
Pam, her best friend, and the only one not surprised by her presence, pushed everyone out of the way, and hugged her equally hard.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“Me, too.”
After more than six months of silence, Pam was the one Rory had reached out to first, and her friend hadn’t failed her. The woman had insisted on meeting for lunch at least once a week, and she’d eventually convinced her to rejoin their group for a night out.
As she looked at her eclectic band of friends, she realized reconnecting with them had been the right choice, and she vowed to make more of an effort to see all of them on a regular basis.
“What are you drinking?” Pam asked. “The next round is on Sydney.”
Rory glanced at Sydney, and smiled. The woman had added a few more tattoos to her arm, bringing her that much closer to an inevitable sleeve, and Rory couldn’t wait to view the new ink up close.
Unlike Pam’s conservative A-line skirt and silk blouse, Sydney was dressed in black leather pants and a black form-fitting tank top. Both women were average weight, but at six-feet tall, Sydney towered over Pam’s short frame by nearly half a foot.
The other two women of their group, Jenny and Cindy, fell somewhere in between the stark differences amid Pam and Sydney. Both women were taller than Pam, and everyone was shorter than Sydney. Like Rory, Jenny and Cindy both wore denim, but in different ways, and they both had on airy trendy tops, lots of jewelry, and wedged heels.
Rory had opted for jeans, a cute, white scooped neck tee that her ex had hated, and a purple, cap-sleeved, button-down, fitted shirt. She’d finished the outfit with a pair of ballerina flats, and though the simple ensemble had taken her hours to put together, it had been worth it.
She was finding her style again, and it felt marvelous.
“I’ll just have a diet—no regular—coke,” she said.
She refused to drink that diet shit anymore.
“Yes,” Sydney yelled, and pumped the air. “Girl, I knew I could count on you.”
Sydney waved over the waitress, and Pam explained.
“We had a bet going on whether or not you would show up—loser buys a round—and Sydney just lost. I should have known you wouldn’t order something with alcohol in it. Luckily, she has to pay for the rest of us, too.”
Rory rarely drank, and she’d spent most of her collage years as the designated driver of their group. Bac
k then, she hadn’t minded the responsibility, but after dealing with her drunk ex on more than one occasion, being the sober one had become a chore she loathed.
She laughed at the details of their bet, and looked around the club. The place was packed, and several men eyed their group. Luckily, being the only curvy girl in the group was enough to ensure members of the opposite sex left her alone.
Well, the good ones did.
Unfortunately, her ex hadn’t been deterred by her weight, in fact, he’d probably sought her out because of it, and she’d met him in a similar setting. The memories caused a surge of panic to sweep through her, but she quickly doused the fear.
There was no way in hell she’d make the same mistake twice.
Except maybe for that hottie…Holy Hell!
Her eyes landed on a gorgeous man wandering through the crowd. Though he seemed relaxed—he was smiling and friendly with everyone—she knew he moved with purpose, and watched to see who he was looking for.
Suddenly, as if he felt her studying him, his eyes met hers and he made a beeline for their table.
God, he was beautiful.
There was no other way to describe him.
He looked to be about six-foot, three-inches tall, with jet black hair, and dark brown eyes. Though he should have looked menacing dressed in all black, his smile was wide, and he was brimming with confidence.
He kept his intense, dark eyes on her as he crossed the room, and the strong, erotic reaction from her body scared the shit out of her. Her pussy tingled, as if begging for his touch, and her nipples hardened, desperate to escape the confines of her lacy bra.
She knew the moment her friends noticed his arrival, and their friendly, flirty comments, and open, blatant fawning grated on her nerves. When he graciously accepted their accolades, and then gently dismissed them, she couldn’t help but melt.
“Hi, I’m Zach. What’s your name?”
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Rory.”
“That’s pretty,” he said. “Just like you.”
“We’re gonna go dance.”
One of her friends, she wasn’t sure who, called out the excuse over the music, and then suddenly she and Zach were alone. Well, as alone as they could be in a packed dance club.
“Thank you,” she said.
His unwavering attention both excited and terrified her, and though his demeanor was seemingly light and carefree, there was an underling air of control, and she had a feeling he was used to getting his way.
“I have to stick around for a couple more hours,” he said, “but, would you like to join me for an early breakfast? I know a great place—”
“Thank you, but no,” she said.
Been there, done that.
Asking her out for an early breakfast was just another way of asking for sex, and she wasn’t interested. Gorgeous as he was, she didn’t want a man, even if it was only for one night of fun.
“How about dinner then? Tomorrow night?”
Dinner would be wonderful…except for the fact that he made her feel something, and she didn’t want to feel anything ever again. He was too perfect, too confident…too much.
“Sorry,” she said, as the blaring song died down, and her friends returned. “I will never go out with you.”
Unfortunately, a new song failed to start right away, and her words echoed around them.
The look on his face was an odd combination between shock and pain, but it quickly turned to anger, and she waited anxiously for his heated comeback.
None came.
“Please excuse me,” he said, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Guilt assaulted her. Though the outcome had been what she’d wanted, she hadn’t meant to be so rude.
“Damn girl.”
“You slayed him.”
“He would bring any woman to sin.”
“No way I could have said no.”
She paid no attention to who said what as another foreign emotion swamped her.
He’s mine!
The fact that she wanted to fight each one of her friends for looking at a stranger was enough to shock her into keeping her mouth shut. She didn’t need a man, and she definitely didn’t own Zach.
It didn’t matter that her heart said otherwise.
***
Zacharias “Zach” Hernden adjusted his earpiece and looked around the club. Club Ryan was a popular hotspot in Blackberry Creek, and though they were packed most nights, particularly Saturdays, tonight something felt off.
He rolled his shoulders, rubbed his stomach and took a deep breath. His skin felt two sizes too small, and anxiety kept him on the edge. Beneath the surface, his bear paced back and forth, and urged him to move, but he didn’t know where to go.
It seemed as though something were about to happen, but he didn't know what. He looked around the room again, but he couldn’t find anything unusual.
He’d been working security a long time, almost ten years, and he was damn good at his job. He could sense a lot of things before they happened, but this was different.
He pressed the button on his earpiece, and contacted his cousin, Aiden.
“Do you see anything out of the ordinary?" he asked through the mic.
“Same old stuff," Aiden answered, “but everyone is really rowdy. I think we can expect a few fights tonight.”
Zach nodded, but he didn’t say a word.
"Why? What's going on?" Aiden asked.
He’d never been able to keep anything from Aiden.
The other man wasn’t only his cousin, he was his best friend, and they looked enough alike that they were often confused as brothers. They’d grown up together, and later, after high school, they’d run their own private security team during college. The duo had become so popular, people had been willing to pay a lot of money for their skills.
That’s how they’d met Tristian, their clan alpha.
When Tristian had hired them to watch his sister, Tegan, the three men had become good friends, but more importantly, he and Aiden had finally found the clan they’d been looking for.
A year later, Tristian opened up Club Ryan, and offered both him and Aiden the positions of club and clan security. Neither man could say no, and they’d gained much more than two new jobs.
That had been five years ago, and he’d never encountered anything close to the unidentifiable feeling he felt now.
"I don't know," Zach said. "I feel weird."
"Weird how?" Aiden asked.
"I don't know," Zach said. "I can explain it. I’m going to walk the floor."
“Okay,” Aiden replied. “For sure there’s going to be trouble tonight, I can feel it. Stay close, and let me know what you find.”
“I know what you mean, but it’s not that,” Zach said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Sounds good,” Aiden replied. “Tell Ethan and Graham to be ready.”
“Will do.”
Their bear clan was small, and Ethan and Graham were the other two male members.
Ethan was second-in-command, manager of the club, and Tristian’s best friend.
Graham was their tech nerd. If you could call a six-foot, four-inch muscled bear shifter a nerd. Sure, he wore glasses, but there was nothing nerdy about the man aside from knowledge. If it was tech related, Graham was your man.
When he and Aiden needed help on the floor, the whole clan stepped in.
On his way down the hall, Zach peeked his head into Graham’s office.
“Hey Grammy,” Zach said. “We might need you later.”
“Got it,” Graham said, opening a drawer and pulling out an ear piece. “What channel?”
“Seventeen.”
Graham nodded, adjusted the channel, and starting putting on the piece.
“Just say the word.”
“Thanks man,” Zach said.
He tapped the wall twice, and continued down the long hall that housed their offices.
A minute later, he stepped into the main room of the
club.
The crowd swayed with the rhythm of the music, and he silently cursed. Normally, the loud pulsating sounds didn’t bother him, but today everything was different.
Including his alpha.
He glanced at the bar, and saw Tristian talking to his mate, Scarlett. The couple normally stayed in Tristian’s office, and worked behind the scenes during business hours, so to see them out on the floor was just another thing out of place.
Zach shook his head, and his bear paced faster.
What the hell is going on?
The two human men behind the bar worked quickly to fill drink orders, and normally Zach would commend them, but today he couldn’t. He ignored the two men, and walked up to Tristian.
As if sensing his unease, Tristian straightened and surveyed the area.
“What's going on?” Tristian asked.
“Nothing yet,” Zach said, “but this crowd is rowdy, and it’s making me uneasy. Where’s Ethan?”
“He's at the door,” Tristan said. “It's almost time to start turning people away.”
On extra crowded nights, there was a certain point where they stopped letting people in, and patrons weren’t allowed to loiter around waiting. If enough people left the club, those waiting might have a chance of entering the building, but letting someone in for fifteen to twenty minutes never did anyone any good, so they kept to their policy and usually closed the doors thirty minutes before last call.
“Thanks man,” Zach nodded. “We’ll keep you posted.”
“Sounds good,” Tristian said. “See you later.”
Zach nodded, took off toward the door, and continued to scan the floor. He found Ethan standing right inside the entrance, doing the same.
“Do I want to know?” Ethan asked.
“Probably not,” Zach laughed. “This crowd is really rowdy, and I don’t feel right—”
“Don’t feel right, how?” Ethan asked.
“I’m not sure,” Zach said, “I feel weird…different weird…and I think we’re going to have some trouble. If we do, Aiden and I will need your help.”
He handed the man an earpiece.
