Bear to the Rescue (Bear Claw Security Book 3)

by Terry Bolryder

  One aisle was filled with numberless bouquets of flowers and potted plants that emitted a pleasant aroma, filling the air. Dozens of vendors occupied the small public square, selling anything from cabbage to kale to ripe tomatoes, while in the back, Regan could see other booths that seemed to be offering crafted wares and other knickknacks.

  It had been a long time since Regan was out in a large crowd like this, and the throng of people reminded her why she liked to work alone, indoors.

  “So do you come here often?” Regan asked Bronson, staying close to him as he carefully inspected a batch of what looked like zucchini. Or maybe they were cucumbers.

  “Frequently. Got to keep the machine running, you know? Food is fuel and all that,” he replied, selecting three that appeared to his liking and putting them in a bag before handing a bill over to the person behind the table, who gave him change and a receipt.

  “I can imagine a guy like you goes through a lot of it,” she joked, enjoying the view of his backside while he completed the transaction.

  “Yeah, you don’t want to know what my monthly food budget is,” Bronson said as he turned around to face her, his height still intimidating, almost a little unnerving, despite the time they’d spent together.

  “Yeah, I probably don’t want to,” she teased.

  Bronson just grinned, gave her a small shrug, and moved on to the next booth, this one chock full of peppers of a wide array of shapes and colors.

  Off to the right, Regan could feel the booths belonging to the craftspeople and doodad vendors calling to her. Perhaps she could go over there for a moment while Bronson shopped his veggies. It would give her just a moment to clear her head without his intimidating presence right next to her, constantly reminding her of the strong feelings threatening to overwhelm her.

  “I’m going to go check out that necklace seller over there,” Regan said, pointing in the direction of the canopy over the crafts booths.

  Bronson turned to her and raised an eyebrow, clearly not keen on the idea, but not giving an immediate reason as to why she shouldn’t.

  “I guess so. But stay where I can see you. I’m almost finished here, and we can head home after that.”

  “I will. Just come over when you’re done,” she replied, then turned to walk toward the sellers of handcrafted goods and other assorted stuffs.

  As she made her way to the crafts tent, careful to avoid the most concentrated crowds and ignoring overeager vendors as they tried to peddle their wares, she saw a sign for used computer parts that had an arrow pointing toward an alley that ran between two redbrick buildings at the edge of the market.

  In the back of her mind, she could hear Bronson’s voice telling her not to go, but she couldn’t help thinking of her wrecked, mutilated computer setup back home and how much time, effort, and money she’d spent putting it all together.

  All of it gone, wasted.

  The pain of it made it hard not to want to head over and check out the place.

  She took a quick look behind her and saw Bronson still talking to one of the fruit vendors. Maybe she would just take a look down the alley and see how it looked while waiting for Bronson to take her down there.

  She took a few steps forward in the direction of the sign and peeked around the corner and down the alley without going into it.

  Ten yards or so away, she could see a sign hanging limply on one chain that read “Crazy Eddie’s PC Surplus,” which hung over a staircase that led into a basement.

  Hell no.

  The alley was lined with trashcans, not all of them upright and one of them with a suspicious hole in the top that looked like someone had set an explosive off inside it. The rank smell of the alley was a stark contrast to the cheery, well-lit bazaar of fresh goods only yards away.

  The atmosphere made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and Regan immediately changed her mind about even looking at the computer store.

  She’d buy new parts online instead. Crazy Eddie could keep his deals for himself.

  She whirled around to head back into the market when she felt her body connect directly with something, or someone, in front of her. She staggered back a pace and looked up to see a large man with short brown hair and menacing grey eyes looking down at her. Though he was nowhere near the size of Bronson, he was large enough to make her feel small.

  He shoved her, hard, toward the alley, nearly knocking her off her feet.

  She got into a defensive stance, but he was huge. She swung at him, but he easily ducked and threw an arm around her, grasping her tightly.

  He stumbled with her deeper into the alley, and when Regan got her breath to let out a scream, she felt a hand cup over her mouth, followed by the unmistakable feeling of cold steel brushing her neck, pressing against her throat.

  “Shh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Unless you want to lose that pretty head of yours,” said the man holding her from behind, his voice colder than the blade on her skin.

  Regan cooperated, trying to get a look at the man but unable to see him at her angle.

  Shit, what have I gotten myself into?

  “So did you like my handiwork at your place the other day? My employers hoped you would get the message loud and clear,” he whispered into her ear.

  She wanted to ask who had hired him but couldn’t talk. She’d never thought in a million years the stupid revenge porn misogynists would take things this far. After all, internet trolls weren’t known for coming after their targets in person.

  She narrowed her eyes, trying to think of her next move as he continued to pull her away from the light pouring from the direction of the farmers’ market and farther into the darkness.

  She couldn’t tell from his scent if he was human or shifter, so either he was disguising it or the rank smell of alleyway and trash and mold was doing it for him.

  Either way, she’d put up a fight.

  “Can’t say I was able to appreciate it, seeing how only a deranged psychopath would do shit like that,” she muttered, wondering if he really would cut her throat if she screamed for help. All she needed was an opening she could use to push him off and make a run for it.

  Trouble was she didn’t know if she’d get that opening in time.

  Chapter 12

  The man’s grip tightened around her like a vise. “Hey, you’re the one who pissed people off. I’m just doing my job.”

  “What’s that? Scaring innocent women because you’re the biggest asshole on the face of the planet?”

  “No. I put little screwballs like you in their place. People who try to step out of their station to meddle in other people’s business. You shouldn’t do that. Someone always gets hurt,” he said as the blade on her throat tightened down, biting into her skin. Any harder and Regan was sure it would cut into her.

  “You better drop the fucking knife now, or it’ll end up sticking out the back of your skull,” Bronson’s voice boomed into the alley, filling it with sound that reverberated off the close walls around them.

  Regan couldn’t believe the relief that swept through her just at hearing that voice.

  Without hesitation, the man spun around to face the noise, still holding her tightly.

  At the end of the alley, silhouetted by the bright light coming from the market, was the towering shape of the man she was coming to love. Dammit, it was never clearer than that moment, and here, against an evil man’s chest, Regan literally couldn’t run from it.

  As Bronson strode toward them, his features came into view, and Regan could see intense focus in his gaze as he surveyed the situation.

  “Don’t come another step closer, or I’ll give this lady a cut the size of Arkansas,” threatened the man holding her, standing his ground.

  “I don’t know who sent you, but they’re fucking with the wrong people,” Bronson responded, glowering as he inched closer.

  Regan stayed still, waiting for Bronson’s next move. He was the pro in this situation, and she didn’t want to try
anything stupid that would mess him up.

  “You’re the one fucking with the wrong people,” the man spat. “What are you? Her boyfriend? Gigolo? Both?” The man sneered, trying to sound calm but coming off fairly tense.

  “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in kicking the shit out of you right now and leave it at that,” Bronson said, his words sharp and calm, his entire body perfectly poised.

  “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you try it,” the man spat back spitefully.

  Then, like a flash of light so quick Regan more felt it than saw it, Bronson rushed forward, clearing the distance between them instantly and grabbing the man’s hand that held the blade and pulling it away from Regan’s neck. The man let out a yelp, and she heard bones crack as Bronson’s hand twisted the man’s wrist and clenched down on it, forcing him to drop the knife to the ground where it clinked several times.

  Now with an opening, Regan ducked to the side as the man swung wildly at Bronson with his now-free hand. Bronson blocked it with his forearm effortlessly, then drove his knee into the man’s stomach, sending him flying into the brick wall to the left.

  The man collided with a thud, then slumped to the ground. Bronson kicked the knife into a nearby gutter, where it disappeared from view. Then he walked over to the man and crouched, leaning over him angrily while the man coughed and struggled for breath after the blow to his body.

  “You’re going to tell me who you work for right now, or I’m going to send you back to your employers so disfigured they won’t be able to recognize you,” Bronson said intimidatingly.

  Regan held back a gasp at the brutal words, but seeing this new side of the fun, positive Bronson she knew was somehow exciting and frightening at the same time. The side of him that had served in the Special Forces and seen years of combat across the globe.

  But before the man could respond, Regan heard sounds coming from the end of the alley and turned to see several men walking toward them, all of them brandishing various weapons.

  “Crap, looks like we have company,” Bronson swore as he stood to face the men rapidly approaching. “Get behind me, Regan. Farther down the alley, okay?”

  Regan just nodded and jogged back, giving him room to deal with the newcomers. The bear in her wanted to shift, wanted to defend her mate. But she knew the best thing for now was to let him fight for both of them.

  The man at the front of the group charged first, rushing at Bronson and swinging a baseball bat. Bronson dodged to the side, then caught the bat on its backswing under his arm. Now at close range, Bronson grabbed the man’s shirt with his free hand and pulled him forward into a vicious head-butt.

  The first man reeled backward, blood spewing from his nose just as another came forward with a large knife. Bronson stepped back, surprisingly light on his feet as he avoided the blade’s edge but stayed close to his attacker. Then, with incredible precision he grabbed the hand holding the blade, yanked it free, then lifted the man and heaved him bodily into a row of metal trashcans like a bag of garbage.

  The trashcans and their lids crashed in a deafening cacophony as two more came at Bronson from the sides, one with a long, thick chain wrapped around his hand and the other with a pipe. The man with the chain attacked first, and Regan could hear the whoosh of the metal links as they swung.

  This time Bronson didn’t dodge, but instead, plucked the chain out of the air like it was moving in slow motion. Then with incredible force, he yanked the chain, pulling the man it was still connected to at the wrist to the side and into his unsuspecting ally on the left, whose pipe was raised and ready to strike.

  Both men bowled over and tumbled to the ground, and Bronson followed up with a kick to the face for the first one, the sound of the impact on the man’s jaw echoing in the alley.

  The man with the pipe struggled to his feet after losing his balance and made to run for the exit to the alley. But before he knew what hit him, Bronson grabbed the man by back of his shirt, pulling him back and then throwing him into a wall sidelong.

  The man gave out a shocked grunt as he hit the unyielding brick, then was silent as he dropped limply to the ground.

  Bronson surveyed his handiwork quickly, watching for motion or any remaining protest, then wiped off his hands as he walked back to where Regan stood, stunned.

  “Sorry, guys, I’d love to stay and chat, but we’re out. Send your employer my regards,” he said, picking Regan up and walking quickly toward the exit. As they came back into the rear of the market, Regan was shocked by the brightness of the sun around them and the blur of the crowd surrounding them.

  “What’s going on? Aren’t we going to find out who they’re working for?” Regan asked, still shocked at the whole experience and trying to process what had just happened.

  “It looks like you managed to piss off all the wrong people, and the last thing we want to do is wait around to see if more show up. Where there’s a few, there’s many, and my first priority is your safety,” Bronson explained as he hurried through the market toward the parked car, drawing confused looks from the people shopping around them. “Besides, they’re hired muscle. As much as I want to believe they know something, in all likelihood, they don’t.”

  By the time they were back in Bronson’s Charger, Regan didn’t know if she felt safe again or if the whole world was spinning so fast she felt like she was going to careen off the edge of it and into space. Bronson pulled out and onto a nearby street and parked with locked doors. Then he looked over at her in concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, feeling her heart pounding in her ears. “I’m sorry. I just… I was stupid.”

  “Hey, it’s all right,” he said, interrupting her rambling and leaning over to hold her close. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” His words were calm and soothing as one hand held her at her side and the other cupped the back of her neck as she dug into his shoulder, unsure if she wanted to laugh about the whole thing or cry. Maybe both. Maybe later.

  “It is my fault,” she choked out, feeling the guilt of it weighing on her. “I needed space from you. I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling.”

  “And what are you feeling?” he asked, holding her tight, her island in a stormy sea.

  “I don’t know. I had life all planned out, and then you came along and ruined it.”

  “How did I ruin it?” he asked.

  She wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t know. You made me need you. You made it too nice to have someone else around. You made me fall for you.”

  He was quiet, and she could sense the shock through the frozen posture of his body. Then he relaxed against her and let out a hoarse laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? I think that’s good news, personally.” He pulled back to look in her eyes. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

  She swallowed and leaned back against him. She wasn’t ready to look him in the eyes yet. Was she really accepting this handsome, overwhelming man?

  Doing so meant facing a painful past and forcing herself to risk her feelings in new ways. It meant stretching herself to fit a different kind of life. One with someone else in it, forever.

  It meant allowing herself to hope, and that felt as scary as stretching herself across a thousand-foot void with only floss as a lifeline.

  She clutched onto Bronson’s back as she thought of it.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, but I’m going to make it so worth it. I’m going to make you pancakes, please you in bed, and see you at work every day. It will be great, won’t it?”

  “It’s not that it won’t be great,” she said. “It’s just hard to believe it will last.”

  “The only way I can make you believe me is if you give me a chance,” he said. “Otherwise, you’ll never know.”

  The longer he held her, the more she felt the stress of the past few days fading. Ever since she’d known him, he’d been keeping his promises and keep
ing her safe.

  Maybe if there was someone to rely on, it could be him.

  Feeling like she was agreeing to give someone an opening to stab her in the heart, she finally nodded.

  “I’ll give us a try,” she said.

  “You mean all the way?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “And I’ll take the full-time job at the office. And we can date openly there.”

  “But not mate?” he asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

  “Sorry, no,” she said. “But this is what I can give you for now. It’s more commitment than I ever imagined. I need more than a few days to promise forever.”

  Bronson nodded and rested against her another moment. “I understand. Just know I’m ready when you are.”

  She laughed. “I think I get the idea.”

  “All right,” he said. “Then, in the meantime, I’m taking you back to Bear Claw to get cleaned up.”

  “Why there and not home?”

  He turned to her seriously. “They were clearly following us. We’ll be safer there. Besides, I stashed one of their knives during the fight, and we should be able to run fingerprints on it. Even if they’re all hired guns, it should tell us something.”

  She shook her head in awe. “You really know what you’re doing.”

  “Here and there,” he said. “It’s my first time dealing with it while being in love, though.”

  She blinked in shock and looked over at him. He gave her a small grin, and she knew he was waiting to see if she could say the same.

  But even though she could feel it, she couldn’t yet say it. “Thank you,” she said instead.

  His face showed only slight disappointment. “All right, should we head back?”

  “I guess so,” she said. “Now that it’s gotten to this point, I don’t think we have any choice.”

  “Yeah,” Bronson said. “Me and the guys will have to go after whoever employed these guys once we figure out who they’re working for.”

  She nodded. “Just promise you’ll be safe, no matter what.”

  “I promised I wouldn’t leave you, right?”