His Rogue Bear

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His Rogue Bear Page 3

by Vella Day


  “Good question. Remind me to ask him when I find him.”

  Blair didn’t need to be arguing with Kalan. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be good, I promise.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Just stay safe. It’ll all work out.” Kalan squeezed her shoulder and then returned to work.

  This was it. Time to find out if a maniac was out there ready to pounce. Blair faced Ronan. He was watching her with such intensity, she almost felt as if he was undressing her. She shoved that stab of lust aside and inhaled. “I’m ready.”

  As soon as they reached the door, Ronan held up his hand. “Let me check to see that it’s clear.”

  “Aren’t you overreacting a little?” Please say yes. “No one is going to make a move in front of the sheriff’s department.”

  One brow rose. It was almost as if he was debating whether to lecture her on the dos and don’ts of being a bodyguard. “We can’t be too sure. Remember, someone killed Delahart in broad daylight.” He scanned the area. “The killer might not exactly be the sharpest tool.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t premeditated. The body was found near the exit door—or so Kalan said. Who does that, especially around quitting time next to a business?”

  “You have an excellent point,” Ronan said, not making eye contact. “Okay, it looks good. Stay close.”

  Blair didn’t know why she was thrilled by his small praise. It shouldn’t matter. Ronan Laramie was her bodyguard and nothing more. If only her bear hadn’t decided to go into hibernation after her last fiasco, Blair might be given some guidance.

  Being a man of few words was a good thing. It was a lot better than being protected by someone who would pummel her with questions.

  Sure, Ronan was hotter than sin, but she’d fallen for the wrong type of man in the past, and she wouldn’t do that again. Lesson learned. Her bear had warned her that Jared Henderson was not her mate, but she was too damn stubborn to listen.

  I’m sorry. Please wake up, she begged her inner bear. Jared was really convincing.

  As usual, her bear didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. Blair didn’t want to think about Jared Henderson. Right now, she needed to focus on proving her innocence, not on enjoying a tangled, sensual journey with Ronan, a man she barely knew.

  She had thought Jackson, her other brother, would have been assigned to watch her, but Kalan said he was working on another case and that he would step in for Ronan if need be.

  With Ronan’s gaze still on the streets instead of on her, he opened the door to his Jeep and motioned she slide in.

  Once he closed the door, he dashed over to his side. “Put your seatbelt on,” he said.

  Dang, Blair never forgot. She must have lost more than her memory. “Would you mind if I stop at my house first?” she asked. “I need to pick up a few things.”

  After checking the side view mirrors, Ronan started the engine and pulled onto the road. He didn’t speak for a full minute. “Sure. Where do you live?”

  When she gave him directions, she didn’t miss the tic around his mouth. Clearly, he disapproved of her living so far away from the family unit. Too freaking bad. She had her reasons. Good ones too. At least she’d moved back to town, though if her one and only job offer hadn’t been in Silver Lake, she would have gone elsewhere.

  “Do you mind if I swing by my place first?” Ronan asked. “It’s on the way, and I need to grab some stuff too. Then I can drive you to your house.”

  She inwardly groaned at coming so close to her parents’ place. “You’re taking this job seriously, aren’t you? You don’t need to babysit me. I promise I won’t run away. My parents had to put up their entire estate for bail.”

  Ronan glanced over at her. “It’s not you fleeing town that I’m worried about. It’s the killer coming after you that we need to be concerned with.”

  Shivers crawled up her spine. “You sound like Kalan. What clues do you have that there is a killer gunning for me?”

  “Nothing concrete, but if you didn’t kill Timothy Delahart, someone else did. The blood on your shirt implies you were close—close enough for the shooter to have seen you. And the GSR implies you fired a gun at something or someone.”

  “I know.” She looked out the window and watched as he drove down all the familiar roads. She needed to stop by to thank her parents for their support, but she wasn’t ready yet for that uncomfortable conversation. Blair would call them from the safe room and figure out a good time to visit. “I’m convinced someone must have put a curse on me. It’s the only explanation. With my memory all but erased, the killer has nothing to fear.” Ronan was a Wendayan and wouldn’t think that concept to be too far fetched.

  “That’s logical except for the fact that curses or spells have been known to wear off.”

  “If he was smart, he would make it last forever.”

  Ronan glanced over at her, and she caught the briefest of smiles. “The operative word being smart, which most likely he is not. You already stated why. Killing in an alley in broad daylight implies it was spontaneous. Besides, I doubt even the most powerful witch can make spells last forever.”

  “You have a point. The dark witch from Cargonia who put the spell on Zane Barons had claimed it would last forever, and that didn’t happen. When his mate came near, he awoke from his forever sleep.”

  “See?”

  Blair turned her thoughts back to the killing. “What do you think went down in the alley?”

  Ronan bounced his focus between his mirrors and the road. “We might never know, but I’ve been chasing after Delahart for months. I’m guessing there was some kind of altercation. Knowing him, it was probably a double-cross. Killing Delahart might not have been the plan.”

  “That might explain the murder in broad daylight.”

  Ronan approached her parents’ place and slowed. “Do you want to stop by your folks while I grab a few things? I’m sure they’d like to see that you’re okay. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t think of a good excuse to tell him why not. Blair certainly didn’t need Ronan telling her brother that she didn’t want to speak with their parents after her humiliating arrest. “That would be great, thanks.”

  Blair pointed out which house was theirs. Her mom’s car sat in the drive, and her dad’s was most likely in the garage. There was no turning back now.

  Ronan stopped the car. “Once I see you go inside, I’ll pick up my stuff and then come back. I’ll be waiting outside whenever you’re ready.”

  She was about to tell him he didn’t have to sit outside, that he could come in, but then she decided she wasn’t ready for her mom to pummel him with questions. Blair never brought anyone home, and she could only imagine what it would imply if she did. It didn’t matter than Connor had assigned Ronan to watch her. “Thanks.”

  When she reached the front door, she rang the bell then depressed the handle. It was unlocked. Her parents never seemed to fear anyone.

  “Hello?” she called as soon as she stepped into the foyer. The house smelled of fresh baked bread, and her stomach grumbled. Then fond memories of growing up here reached out and embraced her, erasing some of her doubts.

  Feet scurried, and a moment later, both her mother and father rushed into the foyer. Her mom was wearing an apron, her forehead was damp, and she looked as if she’d slaved over a hot stove for way too long.

  “Blair,” her mother cried as she hugged her tight. Her plump figure enveloped her in love, helping to soothe the recent aches. “Oh, sweetheart, how are you holding up? Kalan briefly told me what happened. It’s so terrible.”

  “I’m okay, Mom.”

  When her mother let go, her father leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We’ve been so worried. We wanted to see you, but Kalan asked that we stay away. He said that our visit might make it harder for you.”

  “It probably was better that you didn’t see me in that dark and dingy place. As it is,
I really need to shower.”

  “I can only imagine. Come into the living room and tell us everything. You know your brother; he is so closed mouthed.” Her mom brushed a slightly graying wisp of hair from her face.

  She had to be talking about Kalan. Jackson never shut up. “It’s his job not to say anything.”

  “We know, dear. Can I get you something to drink?” her mom asked.

  “Iced tea?” Funny, when she had been in that dark room, all she could think about was her mom’s sun tea. “By any chance, do you have any banana bread?” Her mom baked some every Sunday.

  “I sure do. Sit and chat with your dad while I bring it right out.”

  Once her mom left, Blair turned to her father. “I don’t know what Kalan told you, but it couldn’t be much since I can’t remember anything.”

  “Take a seat and start from the beginning.” Her father slipped off his reading glasses and shoved them into his top pocket as he plopped down on his favorite recliner.

  Blair told him about leaving work at the usual hour. “All I remember is returning home, but I don’t remember anything in between the time I left work and when I arrived at my house. The strangest part is that I was totally unaware that I’d missed a chunk of time.”

  Her mother came in bearing a tall glass of iced tea topped with a wedge of lemon and a sprig of mint, along with a plate of banana bread. The scent was heavenly.

  “Thanks. I was just telling Dad—”

  “I heard.”

  Of course she did. Good ole shifter hearing. “Anyway, when I saw that my shirt was covered in blood, I panicked. After I made sure I wasn’t injured, I called Kalan. It was only when he found out a man had been murdered in the alley behind work that he took me in for questioning. Turns out the blood belonged to the dead man.”

  “There has to be an explanation,” her mom said as she sat on the sofa next to Blair. “I bet you saw him and tried to help.”

  “That’s what I thought. It might be true, but it doesn’t explain everything.”

  “What do you mean?” her dad asked.

  Here came the hard part. “They tested my hands for gunshot residue and found some. Apparently, I shot the gun. Whether it was the one that killed the man, we don’t know.”

  Indignation raced across her face. “Someone has framed you,” her mother said so matter-of-factly that Blair wanted to smile. She loved that they had total faith in her. Too bad, it wasn’t always warranted.

  “I’d like to believe that,” Blair said.

  Her father leaned forward, his forehead furrowed. “How do you explain the memory loss?”

  “That’s the big question. I can’t. The only explanation is that I walked out of the back door and stumbled onto a shooting. Either I was traumatized to the point of forgetting, or someone did something to me.”

  “Hmm, that could be. A weapon in an enclosed space such as an alley makes a lot of noise. I would have thought someone would have rushed out to find out what was going on.” Her father almost sounded as if he doubted her story.

  “Not that anyone has told me. Maybe he used a silencer. I’m sure Kalan will ask everyone who was at work that day if they heard anything, but it can get rather loud in the office, and the side door is pretty far from the street,” Blair said.

  “If someone put a spell on you, it would have taken time. It’s not like the witch can just wave a hand.”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  Her dad looked off to the side. “It seems strange that none of your coworkers left by the same back door.”

  “Not many park in back. I wish I had answers,” she said. Blair took a large bite of the delicious bread and then chugged half her tea. She didn’t remember anything tasting better. “I hate to run, but my bodyguard is waiting outside for me.”

  Her dad wagged a finger at her and smiled, though the joy didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay, but just make sure you don’t skip town. We had to mortgage the whole house to post bail.”

  Horror swallowed her whole again. “I never would. I promise.”

  “I know, hon,” he said as he rubbed his chest, acting as if his heartburn was flaring up again. “Kalan mentioned you needing a bodyguard. Something about the real killer might try to come after you since you witnessed the crime.”

  Here she thought Kalan was close mouthed about what happened. “Yes, but I doubt the killer will do anything unless I start remembering.”

  “Maybe it’s better if you don’t,” her mom said, patting Blair’s hand.

  “There are times when I have to agree with you, but the need to know runs strong. If they find evidence that proves someone else killed that Delahart man I’m good not learning the details. But what if I have to go to trial? I might be convicted if I don’t remember.”

  “Don’t think like that.”

  Blair stood and her parents followed. She didn’t need to worry them more than she already had. “I promise to leave the investigation to Kalan and Dalton. If Jackson wants to help, I’d welcome it, too.”

  “So who is watching over you?” her dad asked.

  “Connor assigned Ronan Laramie, but if he needs to do something, Jackson will help out.”

  Her father nodded. “Ronan is a fine young man. You said he’s waiting outside?”

  “He should be back by now. He had to stop over at the McKinnon guesthouse where he’s staying to pick up some things.”

  “Why don’t you ask him in?” his dad asked.

  That was the last thing she wanted or needed. “There isn’t time. Connor told him to take me directly to the safe room, but since Ronan dropped me off here before he stopped to pick up a few things, we’re already running late. If we don’t show up there soon, Connor will think something has happened.” She finished the rest of her iced tea and chowed down the banana bread. “This is amazing, Mom. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  “I imagine they didn’t feed you a five-star meal over there.”

  “That’s an understatement, though even if they had, I’m not sure I could have eaten much.”

  She had the most wonderful parents in the world. It was why she hated to disappoint them.

  Tell them what happened in Georgia. They’ll understand.

  As much as she wanted to, it had been three years. They had enough to deal with. “I’m sorry to put you through all this.”

  “Don’t worry about us, darling,” her mom said. “We’ll get through it.”

  After a round of hugs and kisses, Blair left to begin her weeks of solitude.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  “Blair, I was so worried about you,” Ainsley said over the phone. “Jackson told me what happened.”

  During her darkest hours in that cell, Blair had thought about sending some kind of message to Ainsley and asking her to visit. With her friend’s ability to become invisible, she could have shown up with no one the wiser. However, Blair didn’t need her friend to get into trouble. And if Ainsley remained invisible, Blair didn’t know if they could talk to each other.

  Stretching out on the safe room’s bed, Blair let the comfort of being secure seep into her. “It’s still a nightmare. What if I really did kill him?”

  “I’ve known you forever. You aren’t capable of killing anyone.”

  She hoped that was true. “Let’s hope the jury believes that.”

  “They’ll find the killer long before you go to trial.”

  The thought of being incarcerated erased the bubble of safety she’d just experienced. They chatted a bit about the possible causes for her memory loss and what everyone was doing to help. “All I can do is wait and see,” Blair said. “I trust Kalan, Dalton, and Jackson to figure everything out.”

  “I agree. Other than being stuck in that room at night, how’s it going with Ronan?”

  Hearing his name sent her thoughts in the absolute wrong direction. “He’s fine.”

  Ainsley chuckled. “Fine? Come on. If I weren’t mated to your brother, I’d take a
second look.”

  “I need to concentrate on staying out of the killer’s crosshairs, not think about some make out session.”

  “Make out session? I’m talking about hot sex to take your mind off your troubles.”

  “Pu-lease.” She didn’t have time for this—or rather she didn’t want to discuss it.

  “Blair, I’m serious. You haven’t looked at a man since that incident with Jared.”

  “It was hardly an incident as you put it. And I don’t want to discuss it. I made a huge mistake thinking he was my mate. You met Jared; he could act really charming.” As well as deceitful, along with a host of other unscrupulous names.

  Ainsley didn’t respond at first, but Blair could almost sense her mind searching the database brain of hers. “I know, but what about Ronan? Could he be the one?”

  What was she talking about? “No! At least I don’t think so. Hell, I can’t trust my instincts anymore. My bear might—never mind.”

  “What were you going to say?” Ainsley liked to prod.

  “Nothing, okay?” Blair hadn’t meant to sound so agitated, but she’d had a bad day.

  “Fine, but I’m just saying, I think Ronan is a fine catch.”

  “Whether he is or isn’t shouldn’t matter. He’s here to keep me safe. That’s all. Now can we talk about something else?”

  Ainsley chuckled. “Sure. Do you have any idea when you’ll be coming back to work?”

  “I plan to return on Monday.”

  “Really? Are you sure? I mean that man was murdered in our back alley. Won’t it give you the creeps being at work?”

  “Why should it? I have no memory of the incident,” Blair said.

  “That’s true.”

  Like they always did, they wandered into familiar territory, talking about the clients they both treated. Often, Ainsley would treat someone first, plying her acupuncturist skills, and then they’d follow up with physical therapy with Blair.

  A knock sounded on her outer door and she jumped. “Oh. Someone’s here. I gotta go.”

  “It must be Ronan. Jackson just walked in, so it can’t be him.”

  “I’ll let you go. Love you.”

 

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