River Bear (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Blue Bear Rescue)

by Terra Wolf

  Seven

  Delilah rode in silence, her heart going out to Jake and everything he’d been through with his parents. She didn’t know what to say to make up for everything he’d lost. And she knew better than most that words just weren’t enough. Maybe later, she’d find a way to show him what it meant to her that he’d opened up.

  Right now, like it or not, she had a job to do. And she was darn sure she was not going to let Jake save the day twice. A girl had to hold her own once in a while to earn her paycheck.

  The truck bounced over the gravel, and she pulled her knee up, checking for her knife where she’d tucked it into her boot earlier. “What are you doing with that?” Jake demanded. She rolled her pant leg back down again and tossed him a glare.

  “Hitting the target from thirty feet, according to my instructors at the academy,” she shot back.

  Jake grunted but didn’t argue.

  “And it’s a lot quieter than a gunshot. Although, up here, I guess we don’t have to worry about making noise.” She peered out the window and was met with nothing but thick woods in all directions.

  Jake rounded the bend, and a small, one-story cabin rose up in front of them in the small clearing. The logs had splintered and faded over the years, and whoever lived here hadn’t bothered to keep it up. The green shutters were peeling or missing entirely, and the windows were coated with a thick layer of grime. She wasn’t sure whether there were curtains on the other side or not, but she didn’t spot any movement as Jake rolled past and pulled a wide U-turn.

  Jake parked in front, angling them back toward the main road, and cut the engine. Before she could step out, he reached across her and opened the glove box. “Here,” he said, handing her a revolver. “For when you want to make noise,” he explained.

  She snorted and checked it for bullets. Yep, loaded. She got out, lifting her shirt and tucking the gun at the small of her back. She caught Jake watching with brows raised and gave him a smirk. “See something you like?”

  She wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate her teasing considering the circumstances, but he just grinned back at her. “Damn straight,” he said and then sobered quickly. “Now, listen. I’m knocking on the front. You’re going around the back. If anyone takes off, follow safely. Do you hear me? Don’t get close enough to get grabbed.”

  She shot him a look. “I have done this once or twice, you know,” she reminded him.

  He scowled. “Not with me, you haven’t,” he grumbled, and she grinned. “I mean it. This is recon only, Xavier’s orders, all right?” he pressed.

  “Got it, boss,” she said, rolling her eyes, and he shooed her around back.

  Leaves and pine needles crackled under her feet as she went. No point in trying to be stealthy now. They’d already made an entrance anyway, pulling right up in Jake’s truck like that. At least it didn’t have the Blue Bear Search and Rescue logo on it, but if there really was someone here making those fliers, they’d take one look out their front door and know who Jake was and what he’d come for.

  She made her way to the back of the cabin, reflexes ready, an ear trained on the front door. She heard the moment Jake knocked and held her breath, pausing to crouch beside the tiny back porch that led straight into the woods behind her.

  No sounds came from inside the house.

  Jake knocked again. “Hello?” he called.

  Nothing. God, this was torture. She’d never been on the back end of this before. She preferred point man to back up any day. Sitting around, waiting for something to jump out sucked worse than heading in, face first.

  Inside, she caught the sound of a muffled voice. Furniture moved; a chair dragged across the floor.

  Delilah reached slowly to her back and gripped the gun.

  Inside, someone yelled loudly, and the back door banged open, ripping free of the top hinge. A figure, slim and wiry and yelling crazily, launched himself off the porch. Delilah jumped back, but not in time.

  The man hit her shoulder as he landed and she went rolling ass over elbows. She caught a glimpse of him just as he disappeared into the trees. The fourth man from Mack’s. The quiet one. She’d never learned his name, but she remembered his face.

  She struggled to her knees, intent on getting to her feet and chasing him, but a second figure appeared from the house. Another of Lyle’s men. The one Laurel had recognized. He came at a dead run and even though she threw herself sideways, she knew she wasn’t getting out of the way in time. This one jumped and landed on top of her, and she felt the air escape from her lungs.

  “Stupid bitch!” the guy yelled as he scrambled up. His fist reared back and swung out, and Delilah rolled sideways so that he hooked her on the arm instead of the jaw.

  She winced and rolled clear, coming up to her knees and then her feet as the guy took off. She caught up to him and tackled him from behind; the gun Jake had given her pressing sharply into her lower back where she’d tucked it as they both went down again. She hooked her ankles and used the momentum of their weight to drive him down and her up. She sat on his torso using her knees to pin his arms and her feet to hold his legs like she’d been taught at the police academy.

  “Who made the fliers?” she demanded.

  He squirmed and struggled and spat at her.

  She narrowed her eyes and yanked him by the collar, slamming the back of his head against the dirt. He howled, and she grabbed for the knife in her boot, flicking it open and waving it in front of him so that he could see the gleaming point. Then she stuck it against his chin.

  She leaned in, ignoring his garbage-breath. “Who made the fliers?” she repeated. “What were you doing at DOT? Who sent you?”

  “Uh-uh.” He shook his head. She pressed the tip of the knife harder, drawing a drop of blood when the man swallowed hard. Her mouth thinned into a hard line. She didn’t want to hurt him, but if it was him or her… “If I tell you, he’ll hurt me a lot worse than you can do, lady,” he said.

  She considered that he might be legitimately afraid, but the dig against her ability to whoop ass got to her. She raised the knife and shoved the tip against his nose. “Your bullshit stinks. Keep it up and you’ll never smell another thing again,” she said.

  “You’re crazy, all right, all right,” he said, turning his face toward the dirt to escape the knife point. “Ray Donovan. He made the fliers. He pays the bills.”

  She let him go and stood, backing away as the guy scrambled to his feet. “Thanks. You can go,” she said, waving the knife.

  Now that he didn’t have a knife stuck in his jugular, he leered at her. “Fuck you. I go when I want and where I want. In fact, don’t be surprised if I show up at your place later—”

  A giant ball of white fur slammed into the guy, and Delilah shrieked. She clapped her hand over her own mouth as she realized what—or who—it was.

  Jake pinned the guy with massive paws and bent low, roaring into the guy’s face so hard, Delilah felt the ground shake beneath her feet. For a split second, she thought he would kill the man, and he must’ve thought it too because all the colors drained from his cheeks and his bottom lip trembled. But Jake stepped off the guy and stood back, jaw still open, eyes still sharp and intent.

  “Go!” Delilah yelled at the man.

  He hesitated a split second longer and then scrambled backward until he was clear of the giant polar bear staring him down. A thin line of blood trailed down the man’s throat and stained his collar from where Delilah’s knife had broken the skin. He swiped at his nose, got to his feet, and bolted into the forest.

  Delilah watched him until he’d disappeared and then knelt low to tuck her knife back into her boot. By the time she turned back, Jake had already shifted and was coming toward her, concern marring his features. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Jake put his arms around her and drew her tightly against him, muffling her answer.

  “I’m fine,” she managed to say, and then her reassurances turned to distraction as she ran her hands over the smooth
planes of his back, hugging him and copping a feel on his ass at the same time. “I could get real used to this whole naked-after-shifting-thing,” she said when Jake pulled away, and he grinned.

  “God, woman, you scared the shit out of me.” He planted a kiss on her temple and drew her toward the open back door of the cabin. “Come on. Xavier’s on his way, and I need to find some pants.”

  Eight

  our later, Jake leaned against the sink of the run-down hunting cabin, arms crossed, as he listened to Delilah recap their arrival here for Xavier and the others. He shifted, trying to loosen the pants where they hugged too tight around his balls, but it didn’t help. The only pants he’d found in the single bedroom had been two sizes too small. He’d barely managed to get them up and over his thighs. The button and fly were hanging wide open, but he was covered—mostly.

  He’d tried retrieving his own clothes, but they’d been shredded when he’d shifted. He hadn’t meant to lose it like that, but one look at that asshole leering at Delilah that way, and he’d seen red. He hadn’t shifted that hard and fast in a long time. And his polar bear damn sure didn’t regret it. Listening now as she recapped pulling a knife on the guy gave him the warm fuzzies, though. He liked imagining her holding her own. But mostly, he wanted to do the saving. She’d wait in the truck next time if he had anything to say about it.

  Nash and Lucas had pulled up a chair and sat across the table from Delilah, but Harley stood near the front door, thumbs hooked casually in his back pockets. He stared out the front window chewing on a toothpick, but Jake knew from the set of his shoulders, Harley caught every word Delilah said.

  Fuck, when had their life gotten so full of violence and drama? Two weeks ago, they’d spent the day in the hot tub down at the springs, drinking beer and planning out what they’d do with their bonus checks this year.

  Now, here he was, chasing down a mystery villain who’d basically put out a hit on the entire Blue Bear Search and Rescue crew, and trying damn hard not to fall for the private investigator they’d hired to help.

  He caught Delilah telling Xavier about “a blur of white, big as an igloo, chasing off the last creep,” just as she turned back and shot him a sexy smile that made his balls ache.

  So much for not falling. He was already gone for her.

  “Why the hell would you let him leave?” Harley demanded.

  “Harley’s right,” Xavier said, several degrees more calmly. He stood behind Lucas and Nash, rubbing his stubble. “We needed him for information.”

  Jake kicked himself. He’d been too pissed to think of that.

  “You mean like the name of the guy who made the fliers?” Delilah asked, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “I already got it.”

  “You what? When?” Jake straightened and shot a look at his alpha.

  Xavier arched a brow at him and then went back to Delilah. Nash, who’d been extra quiet until now, whooped and grinned at Delilah. He lifted a hand in the air and high-fived her. “Nice one, PI,” he said, and Delilah grinned.

  Lucas nodded. “Good work.”

  Fuck. His entire crew was impressed with her skills. He’d never talk her into quitting now.

  “What’s the name?” Harley called.

  They all turned to her expectantly. “The guy I tackled said it was Ray Donovan. He’s the one who made the fliers and pays the bills,” she said.

  Lucas grumbled a string of curses and shoved back from the table, slamming out the front door with a bang. Delilah jumped and stared after him. “Is he okay?” she asked, but Nash waved it off.

  “He’s fine. Just give him some space,” Nash said, but they were all looking at Jake. He knew they were waiting to see how he’d react to the name. But he couldn’t feel a damned thing right now. His insides were strangely numb. He’d always suspected this day would come. He’d never thought about who would be standing next to him in the line of fire when it did.

  Xavier and Jake shared a hard look as the name sank in, and Delilah huffed. “Obviously, you know the name. Does someone want to fill me in?”

  Nash cleared his throat. “Ray is Jake’s foster dad. Lived with him between junior and senior year of high school before he cut out early after Ray was arrested. Xavier’s dad rented him a room at the Lodge while the courts emancipated him and he’s been with us ever since.”

  “Ray’s a bad guy,” Delilah said, and Nash nodded.

  Harley snorted but didn’t offer any more than that.

  Xavier picked up the story, his eyes trained on Jake the whole time. Jake knew what his alpha was doing. Asking if this was okay, to tell her all of this. He didn’t stop it, but he was still reeling too much to give him the go-ahead. Or tell it himself. “Ray’s anti-shifter all the way. Jake had to hide his bear, but one night Ray found out, and he lost it. All hell broke loose. Jake took the brunt of it for a while, and it messed with him, but Ray’s not going to be satisfied until all the shifters are out of here.”

  “I don’t get it. Why is he just now stirring up trouble if he’s had it out for you for so long?” Delilah asked.

  “Because he did a dime in a state pen for killing his wife the night Jake split on them,” Harley said, and Delilah flinched.

  “He was in prison,” she said slowly. She turned to Jake. “You saw it? You testified against him?”

  “Yes,” Jake answered simply, wanting to squash it all. Mostly, he just wanted to move on to the part where they could go kick Ray’s ass back to prison. Anything to end this whole ordeal that had dragged all of his friends and even Delilah into the line of fire. Jake had had enough talking. He swung his gaze to Xavier. “What’s the move, boss?” he asked sharply.

  Xavier rubbed his stubble, staring absently at the grungy wood floor. “We need to know what his end game is here. Or what’s driving him.”

  “You think revenge isn’t enough?” Jake asked. He scoffed. “I put his ass in prison.”

  “No, the fact that he killed his wife put him in prison,” Nash corrected, and Jake rolled his eyes.

  “The fact is, we don’t know for sure what set him off like this,” Xavier said. “Now that we’ve seen some faces, we can identify more of his friends and try to get closer, figure out what’s going on here.”

  “And that’s where I come in,” Delilah said.

  “I agree,” Xavier said at the same time Jake said, “Hell, no.”

  The men faced off, and Delilah whirled on Jake. “Don’t get all alpha male on me about this, Jake. I can handle myself.” She held up the knife from her boot. “You saw him bleeding when he left, right? I’m fine.”

  “Jake, you’ll go with her, but she’s right. She has the experience in turning over rocks and finding out what people want to know. Just keep backing her up like you’re doing,” Xavier said.

  Jake growled, and Xavier blinked at him in surprise. Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d challenged his friend, but damn, this was madness. He couldn’t think straight, and every time he imagined Delilah out there sleuthing around or whatever the hell she did, he lost it.

  But he also knew arguing with Xavier was pointless. Even with a lifetime’s worth of friendship between them, the fact was that Xavier was alpha. Period.

  So instead of arguing, he shoved off from the counter and stormed out, leaving a speechless cabin in his wake.

  He made it as far as the truck and slammed his hands against the bed, using it to prop himself up as he hung his head and concentrated on breathing deeply.

  “Dude. You all right?”

  His head snapped up, and he found Nash watching him cautiously.

  Jake glared at him, happy to have someone here to take his anger out on. “That breathing shit you taught me doesn’t work. I’m still pissed,” he said.

  Nash’s brow rose, and for some reason, it infuriated Jake. “In fact, all of your metaphysical bullshit is on my nerves. You’re just a dude who likes to sit with his eyes closed. It’s called napping.”

  “You’ve g
ot it bad for her, huh?” Nash said, and Jake growled, doing everything he could to resist the shift right here. He’d lose his pants. Again. But he didn’t care. His nerves were out of control. His bear wanted out.

  “What are you talking about?” Jake huffed.

  “Dude, I’ve never seen you mad, especially for no reason. You’re the happiest guy I know. But you’re grumpier every time I see you lately. You want to tell me what’s up or just fight it out? I can do either one.”

  Jake seriously considered taking him up on the fight, but Nash was right. His shoulders slumped. He was never the fighter of the group. That was Harley. And Lucas when the demons got too bad. “Man, it’s your dumbass vision.” Nash’s brows furrowed and Jake threw his hand up. “The vision. From our lake trip? The human girl with wavy hair. Bleeding. Me standing over her with her blood on my hands. I kill her, Nash. I fucking kill her. That’s what you said. And even knowing that I can’t make myself stay away from her. Shit, she’d be dead already if it weren’t for me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “First, calm the hell down. Breathe,” Nash said, and Jake evil-eyed him. “Right, not helping,” Nash added. He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his blond hair, sending it sprawling in all directions. “I forgot all about that damned vision, so my bad, man. Okay, look. Visions are sketchy things.”

  Jake cut him off. “If you tell me the future is liquid or any of that hippie bullshit,” he warned.

  Nash put up his hands. “Easy, man. First, recognize that your bear is claiming her. That’s why you’re feeling crazy about letting her walk across the street without holding her hand.”

  “Jake’s bear is claiming the PI?” Lucas appeared from the woods; hands thrust in his pockets. He looked back and forth between them, his dark hair ruffled and his cheeks flushed.

  “Dude, you okay?” Nash asked Lucas.

  Lucas shrugged. “Just fighting the urge to bash some heads.”