A Lion Shame (Bear Creek Grizzlies Book 3)

by Layla Nash

  He could have stayed in the shower with her forever, but their stomachs growled and after a few more orgasms, Sarah Jane could hardly stay on her feet. Tate tried to keep the pleased grin off his face as he toweled her off and set out some of his clothes for her to borrow to walk back to Rosie's place. Tate called over to Rosie's to give her a head's up that they would be over to cook breakfast, but she didn't answer her cell phone or the house phone. It wasn't that strange, particularly if she was busy taking care of Dakota or cleaning up around the bar, so he didn't mention it to Sarah Jane once she reappeared from the bedroom, looking shy.

  Tate kissed her again, lingering over her soft lips, but broke away when his stomach rumbled again. "I make a mean omelet. I hope you're hungry."

  "Starving," she said, and pulled her hair back in a severe bun that gave her a distinct naughty librarian vibe. Tate swallowed back the groan of appreciation, not wanting to make her self-conscious as he helped put her coat on.

  He held her hand once they got to the street, and for once, Tate almost didn't mind the snow. He kept her tight to his side, wanting to keep her warm on the short walk to Rosie's, but looked up as a car engine revved on the street. He recognized the SUV immediately and cursed under his breath, releasing Sarah Jane so there was a little distance between them. Sarah Jane looked up at him, curious, but before he could offer an explanation or send her back up to his apartment, the truck slid to a halt in the street next to them and a very pregnant Zoe heaved herself out of the car.

  "Thaddeus Mortimer Stewart," she said, pale eyes sending sparks at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Tate bit his lip to keep from warning her about the ice, since his little sister didn't seem in the mood to listen to reason. The lion started growling as Simon got out of the truck and jumped around the hood to keep his wife from falling on her face, and the mountain lion bristled as the other man got too close to his mate.

  Simon pretended not to notice, and instead wrapped a scarf around Zoe's neck as he gave Tate a sideways look. "Thaddeus Mortimer?"

  "It's a family name, dick." Tate felt Sarah Jane tense next to him, and he squeezed her hand as he tried to keep her behind him. Protecting her from whatever trouble Simon and Zoe brought his way. "What are you guys doing here this early? And without the tourists?"

  "We were worried." Zoe stared at him, her breath making huge clouds of white smoke in the freezing air. "Jackass. Your phone cut off and you didn't answer, and then we heard from the sheriff that you crashed your car, and then we saw the car and —"

  She cut off as her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in fat drops that made him feel like a total asshole. Zoe wound up and punched his shoulder, still crying. "I thought you were dead. Don't do that to a pregnant lady."

  Sarah Jane peeked around his shoulder and Simon blinked, gently tugging on his wife's arm until Zoe wiped her cheeks and looked up. "What?"

  Simon tried not to smile too much, instead nodding to Sarah Jane. "Good morning. I don't believe we've met. I'm Simon. This angry little wildcat is my wife, Zoe, and Tate's little sister."

  Tate gritted his teeth, not wanting to deal with all of the questions Simon and Zoe would undoubtedly have, since Tate didn't know the answers to them yet himself. But Sarah Jane managed to smile, shaking his hand and Zoe's. "Hi. It's nice to meet you. I'm Sarah Jane. Rosie is my godmother; I was staying with her when I met Tate."

  Zoe blinked, peering from her to Tate and back again. "You met Tate. You met Tate? Are you two — are you dating? Tate? Why didn't you tell me?" And she started to cry again.

  Tate took a deep breath, all the way from his toes, and his head fell back so he could stare up at the sky. For the first time in a long time, there weren't any clouds. No more snow, thank God. He rubbed his forehead and held up his hands to cut off whatever Simon was about to say. "Let me explain. But I would rather Sarah Jane get inside to check on her little one, where it's warm. If you two are nice, maybe I'll invite you for breakfast."

  Sarah Jane smiled at them, clearly curious about what was going on, but Tate shooed her toward Rosie's. He didn't want her out in the cold, and he didn't want her to deal with the interrogation that would undoubtedly follow.

  "Little one?" Simon's eyebrows rose as soon as Sarah Jane was out of earshot and making her way into the back staircase at Rosie's. "What does ‘little one’ mean?"

  "She's got a baby girl. They showed up in town a couple of days ago." The mountain lion didn't want to share yet. It was too new, too fragile. Too special. And Tate didn't want Zoe to get attached to the idea of a sister-in-law when he didn't know if things would work out.

  "A couple of days?" Zoe smacked his shoulder. "She's got a baby and you're putting the moves on her? Tate, I swear to God —"

  "She's his mate." Simon said it so casually that at first Tate hardly noticed, but the words hung in the frozen air between them.

  Zoe stared at Tate as if he'd grown a second head. And the mountain lion started calculating the odds that he could beat the shit out of a bear.

  When neither of them spoke, Tate took another deep breath. "I wasn't looking for her. I didn't mean for this to happen."

  Zoe burst into tears and lurched forward to hug him, her belly almost knocking Tate back a step even though he braced himself, and he hugged his sister as she babbled something about being happy for him. But Simon watched him with a touch more wariness. "Is she the girl you told us about, the one who showed up with drugs in her car?"

  "What?" Zoe leaned back to stare up at him, and Tate braced himself for more of an explanation. Not that he wanted to do that in the street.

  Before he could open his mouth, a scream cut through the quiet street. Sarah Jane. Rosie. Dakota. Tate spun, boots sliding on the icy sidewalk, and tried to run to help her. He knew it was her, and he knew it was bad. The lion threatened to break free when they couldn't move fast enough, and Simon bellowing behind him didn't help. Tate couldn't breathe, dreading what he would see as he finally reached the door and bolted up the stairs.

  Chapter 20

  Sarah Jane

  SJ pushed away uncertainty at Tate's reaction when his sister and brother-in-law stopped them in the street. Something made her wonder if he wasn't ready for his family to know about her. She tried not to think about it, or at least save those questions until breakfast, and flipped the switch for the light in the narrow stairs up to Rosie's apartment. It didn't work.

  Frowning, she climbed the stairs. That wasn't like Rosie, to leave a broken bulb in place. She got to the landing outside the apartment and all the feeling left her legs. The door sat ajar. Cracked open.

  She shoved it open and lurched forward, into the apartment, and fell to her knees. Blood. Blood everywhere. The kitchen table shattered, the chairs overturned, and half the kitchen cabinets torn off. SJ couldn't breathe. Dakota. Dakota.

  She ran through the apartment, her shoes sliding in blood, and screamed as she checked each room. She searched the closets, the beds, under the beds, everywhere. Everywhere. Dreading that she would find her baby hurt or dead. But she wasn't there.

  Dakota wasn't there.

  SJ screamed until her vision went dark, stumbling into the living room again, and something moved in the kitchen. A bloody heap she'd missed because it blended into the beige tile. A mountain lion, torn to ribbons. SJ stared at it, unblinking, unable to process what happened. What was happening. Dakota. She had to find Dakota.

  And then the door flew open and Tate was there, face white. He stared around at the mess and immediately knelt by the injured mountain lion, ripping off his scarf and shirt to apply pressure to the wounds. SJ couldn't move as Tate said, "It'll be okay, Rosie. We'll get you to the hospital. You'll be fine."

  Rosie. Rosie? She was a mountain lion too?

  SJ couldn't think, couldn't speak or move or do anything. Tate roared something over his shoulder and then the strangers from the street were in the apartment, taking up too much space. The pre
gnant girl, Zoe, pulled out her phone and called someone to report the emergency, though big fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Tate work on keeping Rosie alive.

  The big bearded man caught SJ's shoulders and walked her over to the only kitchen chair that remained upright. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Was anyone in here when you arrived?"

  "No," SJ said, and didn't know what question she answered. Her hands shook as she tried to push to her feet, unwilling to sit there as her entire world fell apart. "Dakota. Dakota is missing."

  "The baby? I'll look again for her." Simon gently kept her in the chair, gesturing for his wife to take his place, then he moved through the apartment with surprising speed.

  Tate cursed and dragged a black medical bag out of the cabinet under the sink, throwing things around until he draped Rosie in yards of white bandages and multicolored tape. Zoe held SJ's hand in silence, and SJ concentrated every part of her being on breathing. Keeping her heart beating. Dakota was missing. Missing. While SJ was having fun with Tate. And Rosie was injured, bleeding, dying. Dying.

  Her sinuses burned and tears leaked from her eyes, leaving scalding trails down her cheeks, as SJ stared at the bloody mess in Rosie's kitchen. She'd fought to protect Dakota. She'd fought until they almost killed her.

  Simon returned from his search, shaking his head. "The baby isn't here. It smells like there were men here, at least three. Strangers."

  Tate growled something, moving over Rosie and trying to straighten the mountain lion's legs. "Check the door and the counter. They'll have left a note."

  SJ stared at his back. How the fuck did he know that?

  Simon pulled a smeared note from the back of the door, taking a deep breath before he read it. "We have your kid. If we don't have the delivery in twenty-four hours, she's dead and you're next." He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "They left a phone number."

  Tate said, "We have to get Rosie to the hospital."

  "I'll pull the truck around," Zoe said, and moved surprisingly quickly down the stairs for a pregnant woman.

  "I'm a nurse," SJ said, trying to shake off the oppressive grief. Dakota missing and Rosie grievously hurt. "I can — help her."

  "You've done enough." Tate didn't look at her, but SJ recoiled as if struck. He said something to Rosie, who groaned and moved, and then she returned to her human form. Tate kept talking to her, though he snapped over his shoulder, "Get her some clothes. Something to cover her."

  Simon said, "Dude, watch the tone."

  "She's dying," Tate said. "We don't have time."

  SJ moved woodenly into the bathroom to retrieve an armful of towels, and as she handed them to Tate in silence, Rosie moved. She reached for SJ, and tears blurred the older woman's eyes. "Honey, I tried. They took her. I tried to stop them. I'm so sorry, I couldn't —"

  She coughed and blood coated her lips, and SJ fell to her knees. "I'm sorry, Rosie, I never thought —"

  "We don't have time." Tate scooped Rosie up and nearly knocked SJ out of the way, despite Simon's grumble, and he carried the injured woman down the stairs. SJ stood there, staring at where they'd gone, until Simon herded her out of the destroyed apartment and to the waiting car.

  Zoe sat in the back, where most of the seats had been folded down in preparation, and Tate carefully slid Rosie into the back before getting into the driver's seat. Simon climbed in up front, and motioned for SJ to get in the back, next to Zoe. When she hesitated, Tate nearly drove off without her. Only a sharp word from Simon kept his foot on the brake. SJ couldn't process what was happening; she could barely get her arms and legs to work together.

  She managed to get inside and sat next to Rosie, and something clicked in her head. The nursing training took over as Zoe handed her another medical bag, and SJ latched on to the things she knew. Pulse, respiration, stop the bleeding. She worked in silence, fighting off tears whenever she stopped to think about who she worked on. Zoe handed her water and fresh towels and bandages whenever she needed them, but SJ really hoped the hospital was a lot closer than the department store that Rosie had mentioned, otherwise... She pushed away the thought.

  Everything would be fine. Rosie would be fine. She'd get Dakota back unharmed and perfect. Everything would be fine. It became a mantra in her head as Tate drove too fast and Simon told him to slow down and Zoe told them to stop fighting, and the entire world narrowed down to the sound of Rosie's labored breathing and the flutter of her pulse against SJ's fingertips.

  Chapter 21

  Tate

  Tate went into crisis mode the moment he saw Rosie's broken body on the kitchen floor. All that mattered was keeping her breathing, keeping her heart beating, stabilizing her so they could move. He remembered snapping at Sarah Jane and Simon both, but didn't give a shit. All that mattered was getting Rosie to the hospital.

  Tate drove, every cell in his body focused on the road ahead and avoiding the icy patches that still plagued every surface, and ignored the whispers as Sarah Jane and Zoe looked after Rosie. They didn't run ambulances to town from the big hospital, but it was faster for him to drive anyway. Everyone knew it. Waiting for the ambulance usually meant you were dead when they arrived.

  Simon tried to talk to him once but Tate only growled, hunching forward over the steering wheel. Rosie would be fine. She had to be fine. He couldn't imagine Bear Creek without her sardonic wit and sparkling smile. He didn't want to think about what life would be like, if Rosie didn't come back from the hospital. Another growl escaped, the mountain lion enraged to the point of near meltdown, and his vision flashed red before Tate managed to regain control.

  The truck careened into the open bay of the small county hospital's emergency wing, and he kicked his door open almost before the damn thing was in park. Tate yelled for a gurney, shouting the injuries that Rosie sustained, and threw open the back door so he could lift her out. He hardly looked at Sarah Jane, unable to deal with the pain in her eyes when Rosie's barely fluttered opened. It was all Sarah Jane's fault. If she hadn't shown up in town with the drugs, none of it would have happened. His mate might have gotten one of his best friends killed.

  Tate strode into the emergency room and finally nurses and orderlies and doctors surrounded them, sliding a gurney up and helping him lay Rosie on the clean white sheets. He watched, arms loose and numb at his sides, as they rolled Rosie into the back, behind a curtain, and machines started beeping and wailing into the silence. His heart slowed as the room began to swirl around him, as if he was underwater and nothing could reach him directly. Tate stared at the curtains as if he could see through them.

  Rosie had to be okay.

  He didn't turn as noise revealed the Zoe and Sarah Jane hobbled into the ER and made their way to one of the ugly couches in the waiting area. Tate tensed as Simon moved up behind him, the alpha bear's voice low. "Take a deep breath, man. They've got it."

  Tate clenched his jaw until his teeth ached. "We start hunting. Now."

  "Tate —"

  "The note." Tate faced him, holding out his hand. "Let me see it."

  "There's no scent on it. We won't be able to track anything from —"

  "Let me see it." Tate waited, unfeeling and numb, until Simon pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it over. Tate stared at it, almost unable to read the blood-smeared paper, then pulled out his cell phone. He'd debated who to call, whether the criminals or the cops were better suited to handle a situation like this one but in the end, he knew the only way to keep Bear Creek and his friends safe was to split the difference. Someone who balanced on a fine line of being a federal agent but one who was known to skirt the rules occasionally. Tate dialed, not saying anything to Simon, and waited for the phone to ring three times before hanging up. He studied his watch, waiting exactly fifty seconds, then called him back. After four rings, someone picked up but didn't speak. That was the deal. No one called that number unless they knew what to do and say. Tate stared at the wall but didn't see anything on it. "Killswitch. It's Roost
er. I need a favor."

  The silence stretched, then the languid drawl of a rogue DEA agent reached him through a slight hiss. "Rooster. Long time no see, buddy. What do you need?"

  "Location on a cell phone. Prepare to copy." He waited for Killswitch's grunt, then repeated the number from the note the kidnappers left. Tate crumpled the note in his fist and almost threw it back at Simon. "It's crisis, man. Faster than ASAP."

  "Give me a couple minutes," the guy said, and the line went dead.

  Tate put away his cell phone, turning in a slow circle as he tried to figure out what to do next. Once Killswitch sent him the location of the cell phone, they could get the bears together and go fuck up the bastards who took the baby and attacked Rosie. Simon caught his arm and tried to drag him into the waiting room. "Chill out, dude."

  "There's no time for that." Tate growled, ready to start a brawl despite the witnesses around them. "We have messes to clean up. We can't wait."

  "Sit down," Simon said, and there was enough oomph in his voice that Tate almost obeyed.

  It was only when Zoe looked at him, her eyes filled with tears, that Tate finally complied and collapsed into one of the chairs several feet down from where Sarah Jane sat. He couldn't look at her. Zoe comforted Sarah Jane while Simon sat down between them and Tate, creating a barrier that prevented Tate from focusing on either of them. He couldn't sit still. He didn't want to sit still. The mountain lion seethed, wanting to be let loose to chase down the sons of bitches who took the cub.

  Simon glanced around to see who was close enough to overhear their conversation, then lowered his voice. "You want to tell me who was on the other end of that phone call?"

  "A guy who knows how to find things. And people." Tate didn't blink or look at him. Killswitch would find the phone, they would find the kidnappers, and everything would be fine. Tate repeated it, trying to convince himself. "That's all you want to know."