Bear to the End (Bear Claw Security Book 5)

by Terry Bolryder

  Bear to the End

  Terry Bolryder

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Sample of Bear Haven Boxed Set

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2016 by Terry Bolryder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  One

  Mark set aside his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes, leaning back in the soft, comfy office chair where he’d been for the past four hours, sorting out the financial affairs of Bear Claw Security.

  He looked up as Hercules, one of the bodyguards, knocked on the glass door to his office and then let himself in.

  The other man was Mark’s opposite in style. Tanned with longish brown hair and a utilitarian sense of fashion. He often wore cargo pants and a black shirt, whereas Mark preferred his clothing sharp and tailored, which matched his short blond hair. Today he was wearing a light-blue designer button-up with black Armani trousers, tailored to his trim hips.

  “Herc,” he said casually, putting his hand lightly over the papers he’d been working on and drawing them to him.

  “Mark,” Herc replied with a grin, heaving himself into the chair across from him with a huff.

  Though the two men were around the same height, both very tall bear shifters at over six and a half feet, Mark had a much more refined, cut look to him. And a sharp-eyed stare that tended to make others uneasy if they didn’t know him. And sometimes even if they did.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked, checking his watch. Nearly lunchtime.

  Herc smiled again, a little deeper this time. The bronzed, demigod-looking man was practically glowing lately, back from his honeymoon with the mate he’d always wanted and only recently won over. “Wondering how things were going. I haven’t been able to check in.”

  Mark eyed the clock on his desk. “So it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m going out to get lunch soon and you’re wanting me to bring something back?”

  Hercules twiddled his thumbs. “No.” Then he laughed and rested his hands behind his head. “Okay, you got me. Bodyguard work is tiring. I’d almost forgotten while on break.”

  “Please,” Mark said. “The only main assignment you’ve had is with your mate. Until this one.”

  Herc nodded. “The toughest mission of all is protecting someone you care about.”

  Mark didn’t know about that. Wouldn’t that be the easiest mission? He suspected he would be extremely protective over the woman he found as mate. He was with his family business, with the people who depended on him to manage things financially and anyone under his care.

  He faced Herc with a sigh. “All right, what do you want?”

  Herc gave him his lunch order, and Mark mentally noted it. But when he was done, Hercules didn’t leave.

  “When are you moving to bodyguard duty?” he asked Mark.

  Mark blinked. “I don’t know. I’m happy here in the office, honestly.” He waved the papers he’d been working on, covered in red marks from his pen. “And frankly, you need me here.”

  “Seems a shame,” Herc said. “All that training going to waste.”

  Mark grinned and couldn’t resist a quick flex. He appreciated the muscles and skills he’d gained from working with the best bodyguards in the company, all of whom had military experience from being in the Special Forces. Mark had more experience running empires than he did running into danger. But he was enjoying the training all the same.

  “It’s not going to waste,” he said. “Bronson enjoys beating the crap out of me, and I have to say I’m in the best shape of my life.”

  Hercules frowned at him. “Pretty soon you’re going to have to get the fancy designer stuff made custom for you. You’re bursting at the seams.”

  Mark frowned down at his shirt. “They’re tailored, Herc. They’re supposed to be tight.” But feeling the tightness over his shoulders, he thought maybe the other man had a point.

  “You should dress like us,” Hercules said, emphasizing his black tee tucked into combat pants.

  Mark snorted. “I’d feel like a poser.” He heard a bell ring at the front desk and looked up. “Someone’s here. Where is everyone?”

  “Bronson didn’t tell you?” Herc asked. “He left us to watch the office. He, Cage, and Limes had to go out on a meeting.”

  “To goof off most likely.” Mark sighed. But he knew better. The men probably took off to be with their wives during lunch, and Mark, as the only single guy, was stuck watching the headquarters.

  “Speaking of…” Hercules began.

  “You want to take off, too?” Mark asked. “You just gave me your lunch order.”

  “Yeah, but even better if I can just go.”

  Mark sighed and folded his arms, noting the tightness over his muscles with a frown. “All right. But first come meet with this client with me. You know I’m no good with people.”

  “Just a little quiet until you know someone,” Herc said. Mark gave him a glare, and the other man put up his hands. “All right, let’s go see what they want.”

  He led the way to the front desk, and Mark followed, hands in his pockets, thinking about where he could find someone to make the custom shirts he’d need if he put on anymore muscle, which he intended to. He loved working out. Loved the feel of getting bigger, the power…

  His trail of thought faded out as he took in the figure standing hesitantly in front of the entrance of Bear Claw Security. She was average height for a human female, though he could scent she was a bear. She had tawny brown skin and thick, curly hair that fell over her shoulders. A rounded, adorable face with a full, sensuous mouth pressed into a pout. She was wearing a loose suit that seemed to attempt to hide every delicious curve. One part of her seemed to be trying to hide from the world. The other part seemed determined to take it all on at once.

  Her light-brown eyes narrowed in on him, and she strode forward, extending a hand and trying to look unperturbed. But he could feel the little tremor when he took her hand, see the way she quickly looked him up and down. Sense the subtle scent in the air that meant she was aware of him.

  But more than anything, he was aware of the deep feeling in his gut that this was his mate. It resounded through him like shockwaves after an earthquake, leaving him rooted in place even as she moved on to shake Hercules’s hand and started to talk about why she was there.

  He followed them into a back office and forced himself to focus so he could hear what the beautiful angel wanted from them.

  It had to be something he could provide. It had to be. He’d never been this drawn to a female in his life.

  She sat at the table across from Hercules, and Mark took a seat next to her. She looked at him nervously and then continued her conversation.

  Mark knew he was creepily staring, but he couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous. She was just right for him. She was it. His bear, which had never been denied anything in its life, just knew it.

  He leaned back o
n his chair and took in her words.

  “So that’s why I need a bodyguard,” she said hesitantly, putting her hands on the desk. “Do you have anyone available?”

  “Classic stalker case,” Hercules said, looking professional as he jotted down notes on a pad and then looked over them. “Charlotte was it?”

  “You can call me Char.”

  Hercules nodded. “I think we can help you. We have this guy available.” He gestured to Mark, and the girl looked at him and bit her lip.

  “Um, no.”

  Mark sat bolt upright. No? What did she mean no? “Excuse me?” he said, his cultured, elegant tone disguising the absolute shock he felt. He wasn’t used to being rejected. It was part of being born into privilege. Besides, he would be an excellent bodyguard. He had training.

  “I just…” She gave him an apologetic look. “I don’t think it’s going to work.” Her eyes moved over him from head to toe. “No rich guys. I’d rather work with someone like me.”

  Mark folded his arms over his chest and appraised her.

  Hercules looked stumped. He raised an eyebrow at Mark and folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I’m afraid everyone else is booked,” he said.

  She shook her head violently and started to stand. “I’m sorry, but I’m looking for a certain type of person,” she said. “I have a thing about… Well, it needs to be someone kind of rough. Someone who understands the tougher side of life. And I guess I just… It’s me, not you,” she said. “But I mean, I thought most of the guys here had a military background. But you—no offense—you look like a male model.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Just a personal thing,” she said with a shrug. She started for the door, and Mark noticed the little stress lines under her eyes. He couldn’t let her leave, even if they were booked and she didn’t want to work with him.

  She was his mate, she was in trouble, and hopefully, she would forgive him for what he was about to do.

  “We do actually have one other person,” he said, feeling relief when she stopped and turned around.

  “You do?”

  “We do?” Hercules asked, glaring at Mark.

  Mark sent him a “shut up” look, and nodded. “My identical twin, Bronson.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Twin?”

  Mark pointed to a picture on the wall of some of the guys together. “Right there. He runs the place. He left the family young, joined the military, started this place. Not silver spoon at all.”

  “So he’s not involved with any rich people?” she asked.

  His brow wrinkled at that. How had she even been able to catch on to how much money he had simply by a look? Something told him she’d had run-ins with rich men and they weren’t good ones. But he just needed time to show her they weren’t all bad.

  “No, he doesn’t associate with rich people,” he said. “He’s estranged from our family.”

  She nodded. “And he doesn’t wear those kinds of clothes?”

  Again, her words confused him, but he shook it off. “No, he wears normal clothes.”

  She let out a little breath of relief. “Perfect. What’s next?”

  “We can send him to your place to get more details,” he said. “Would that work?”

  She nodded. “I’m not in trouble exactly yet. I just have a feeling… I may be soon.”

  A shiver of anger and dread went through him. Anyone who tried to touch her would deal with every pound of the strength that had been beaten into him with his training. They’d also have to deal with his very angry, rampaging bear.

  But then he realized she was safe now and calmed himself. “Perfect. Just write your address on this pad and he’ll see you this evening around six.”

  He passed her the pad from Hercules, and while she wrote down her address, Hercules gave him a look of extreme disapproval.

  But Mark didn’t care. He now knew the lengths the others would go to when they found their mates. He’d have to make them understand this was his.

  When she left, Hercules put his hands on the table with a thud as he stood.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” he asked. “Bronson doesn’t have time for a mission right now. She could have worked with you. She didn’t need to be a brat…”

  Mark snarled, and Hercules took a step back. Mark straightened his tie. “She wasn’t being a brat. There was real fear in her face. She wasn’t going to work with me, even if it put her at risk.”

  Hercules shook his head. “Bronson is going to be pissed.”

  “Not if he doesn’t know,” Mark quipped, standing and straightening his shirt cuffs as he walked to the window to watch curvy little Charlotte walking out to her car. He already felt he had to make sure she was safe at any moment.

  “How can he not know if he’s the one on the job… Ohhhh…” Hercules’s eyes widened as he strode up to stand behind Mark. “You mean he won’t be the one on the job. You will. Good thing we didn’t tell her your name.”

  Mark nodded. “This way she gets the protection she needs, we get another job, and Bronson doesn’t have to know she thinks it’s him.”

  “Damn, your brain is something else,” Herc said. “Thinking of something like that so fast. But why?”

  Mark shrugged. “I just wanted to.”

  “So what, you tell Bronson you’re on a normal job and then the whole time try to look and act like him, with her none the wiser?”

  Mark nodded, though the thought rankled. He’d rather spend time with his mate as himself.

  “I’ve never seen you like that,” Hercules said thoughtfully. “If you want me to go along with this, you’re going to have to tell me why you’re doing it. You never do anything without a reason.”

  “She’s my mate, all right?” Mark said sharply. “Is that reason enough?”

  Hercules let out a pent-up breath and nodded. “I guess so.” He shook his head. “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that lies fester. Are you sure you should do this? What if she hates you when she finds out?”

  “I have to keep her safe,” Mark said. “Didn’t you see the stress in her eyes? Keeping her safe is my number one priority. Everything else can come after.”

  “Damn, dude, when you do anything, you go all out.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “I just hope this doesn’t hugely backfire.”

  “Me, too,” Mark said. “But I’m going to do my best to make sure it won’t.”

  She got into her car, and Mark let himself smile slightly at seeing her drive away safely.

  “All right,” he said. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to watch the office.”

  “Why?” Hercules asked, looking perplexed. “You don’t have to meet her until six.”

  “Right,” Mark said, picking at his cuffs. “And before that, I need to go shopping. Any ideas where I can pick up your style of shabby chic?”

  Hercules looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or swing at him, so Mark decided it was time to head out.

  He had a mate to protect and win over. It was the most exciting thought of his life.

  Two

  Charlotte pushed hair out of her eyes as she heard whoever was at the door knock again and then ring the doorbell.

  She was embarrassed by the state of her apartment. Not that it was any different than usual, but when the handsome guy at the security place had told her someone would come by, she really hadn’t pictured what that would mean until she came home after work and saw the mess she was in. Boxes from a past move still lurked in the corners. She had one sad chair and a small table. A TV in the corner. Her tiny kitchen was basically a fridge and a stove and one inadequate counter. The tired linoleum led straight to the worn carpet of her small living room.

  She looked around with a sigh and folded her arms. No point trying to hide the inevitable.

  At least she wasn’t hiring that rich guy from the office, the one with the strikingly handsome face and all the top brands, who
reminded her of something she never wanted to be reminded of.

  She couldn’t imagine what a man like that would say upon entering her place, even if he could probably guess at it just from being in the neighborhood. But the man who was coming, Bronson, had seen the darker areas of life as a soldier and a man who’d left behind a life of wealth.

  They had that in common at least.

  She let out a breath and pulled the door open with a whoosh… and gasped when she looked up at the man in front of her.

  He really was the spitting image of the man she’d met earlier that day, which made sense since they were identical. But she hadn’t expected to be just as powerfully drawn to him as she was to the other man.

  He wore a black tee shirt that emphasized powerful biceps which was tucked over rock-hard abs into oversized cargo pants that pressed over thickly muscled thighs. His hair was styled messier, like a woman had her hands in it.

  She wanted that woman to be her.

  She licked her lips nervously. Where had that come from? She’d thought she was over the men thing. Over lusting. Over trying to find the one. She obviously had no taste in men, given that her last one had landed her in this situation, so she’d be better off keeping her space from the handsome stranger at the door.

  “Charlotte is it?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. Even his voice was the same as the one from the office. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make sure it wasn’t him.

  But of course it had to be the right guy. Who would lie about that and why?

  Plus, this man looked and acted completely different. He carried himself much more loosely, unlike the stiff man she’d met before.

  He gestured at the door, and she realized she was being rude leaving him on the step. She stepped back and waved him in. He’d have to see her place at some point.

  “Yes, it’s Charlotte. And you’re Bronson?” she asked as the big man moved past her into the room. She felt a wave of pheromones rush through her as he passed, and she nearly went dead on her feet at how strong they were.