by Mina Carter
Absently, he attacked the food on his plate. A lot of food, but he was a big guy, and even without a bear onboard, muscles like his took a lot to run.
He was lucky she hadn’t been close enough to read his meat tag when he’d jumped her in his room. The army liked to label everything, which meant that in addition to the usual information, such as name, service number, and blood type, he also had an extra line at the bottom.
Ursanthrope.
The fact he was werebear was literally inked into his skin for those who knew what they were reading. Yeah, yeah… He knew the reason why. Ursanthropy was a blood-borne infection, or could be. Although it was the traditional route, he didn’t need to bite somebody to turn them, if he was injured and they were really unlucky, then they could catch it from his blood.
Although, they’d have to be really fucking unlucky and kind of stupid to catch it that way. A trained medic would know never to touch without being gloved up, and medics were always warned when a ‘thrope unit was in the area. They knew to check the meat tag.
The last element in his little Battle Royale of Doom was Cole Riley.
He didn’t expect him to take the fact he busted up the guys’ bar good and proper last night lying down. No, he expected retaliation. Welcomed it. Some good old-fashioned violence would provide an outlet for the frustration currently rolling through him.
Opening his laptop as he shovelled food in his mouth, he checked the report that just arrived and scanned through it. Danny said Riley was a bad ass, and reading the local authorities files on the guy, Reese could see why. Of course, he shouldn’t technically have the file, but what was the use in being ex-military intelligence with a speciality in hacking if you didn’t use it?
His mood became grimmer the further he read. Riley was not only an asshole; he was also a parasite leeching off the people of this town. After retiring, Reese had made his lifelong ambition to fuck up things for just this sort of person. An evil little grin spread over his face as his agile mind started to formulate a plan of attack.
He needed more intel, more information on the man himself. The wankers in the bar last night had been little use. They’d been too far down the food chain to serve as anything other than a warning that Reese was on Riley’s tail.
Which meant a recon.
He flicked a glance up and automatically his scrutiny settled on Bobbi behind the counter. For a moment the world fell away, leaving just the two of them its sole inhabitants, and he drank in every little detail about her. The clothes, obviously picked for comfort and durability but that couldn’t disguise the gorgeous figure beneath.
Her hair, dark chocolate with a hint of purple on the ends, all messy curls piled on top of her head. Finally, his gaze settled on her lips, and all the erotic dreams that had plagued his sleep last night came rushing to the forefront. His cock, which had subsided to a semi hard-on, raged back to life, primed and ready for action.
Great, what was he now? A fucking Boy Scout?
Being around her was distracting when he needed his game face on. His bear though, was comforted by her presence. Every so often it lumbered forward to just under his skin, peering out through his eyes to look at the curvy, dark-haired beauty. Then it chuffed, happy she was safe, and sank into the depths of Reese’s soul. Never before had it reacted in such a way.
Proof positive, if she could calm his bear, then she really was his mate.
Shoving the laptop into the case, along with his glasses, he levered up from the table and strolled toward her as she lifted an order from the counter.
“Little bit of business to take care of, sweetheart.” He leaned in, stopping her turn halfway to whisper in her ear. “I’ll be back later.”
And with that parting line, he left the diner.
Chapter Four
The day had been the day from hell. No, actually, that was an understatement. It had been so busy that Bobbi really needed to clone both herself and Louise to even keep level. As it was, neither of them had a chance to take a lunch break, and she’d needed to pee for the last three hours.
It wasn’t that hard work bothered her, she preferred to be busy. Being busy kept her going after her parents’ death in a car accident two years ago. She’d buried herself so far into the grind, that the motel and diner, her parents’ dream, had become her sole reality.
But there was busy, and there was busy, and the first time she got a chance to draw breath was near to closing time.
“Sure you’re okay closing up?” Louise asked as Bobbi emerged from the restroom.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks, hon.”
She cast a glance over the younger woman. Bless her, she looked as exhausted as Bobbi felt. She knew without asking, Louise was having issues with her brother again… it was the only thing that put that haunted look in her eyes.
Circumspectly, she checked Louise over again, looking for any unexplained cuts and bruises. If there ever were any, she didn’t care how much of a badass biker Louise’s brother was, Bobbi would give him an ass whooping he’d never forget. She might not be big and scary, but she’d wrestled enough with her older brother, and knew enough dirty tricks to put serious hurt on a guy.
Dangly bits, it was all about the dangly bits. She gave a mental snort of amusement… And they said women were the weaker sex. Yeah, right.
She smiled, and did a little jig she really didn’t have the energy for. “See? Full of beans!” She stopped the dance before her knees could gang up on her and quit working. “You get off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Bob, I appreciate it.” Louise grabbed her coat and bag from under the counter, and beat feet for the door. The bell jangled, heralding her departure, and Bobbi grabbed the cloth and spray. With a sigh, she looked around the diner. At the dirty tables.
“Who you gonna call... grimebusters?” she muttered, and started to clean.
The tables were filthy. She muttered under her breath as she scrubbed, pausing to tackle a particularly stubborn area on the table in the corner. It appeared to be some kind of nuclear waste welded to the laminate surface, but she suspected it was actually the pie from lunch.
She’d just moved onto the second table when the door opened again, the bell dancing maniacally on its hook like a small whirlwind had burst through. Without looking up. Bobbi smiled amusement.
“That was quick. What did you forget this time?”
Seriously, Louise had a memory like a sieve. She always forgot something. So much so they had a “lost property” box under the counter and a “shit Louise left” box.
Danger, Bobbi Bradbury, danger.
Her instincts warned her a moment before hard hands closed on her shoulders. She squeaked as she was spun around to look into the face of Conrad Jackson. He was the archetypal all-American, jock type. Handsome. Blond. Well-built… At least that’s what everybody saw. That’s what Conrad wanted everybody to see.
This close though, she could see the slight softening around his jaw, the result of too many nights drinking and partying in the numerous clubs he owned. She could see the red around his eyes, possibly drink… Probably something else. It was no secret Cole Riley used Conrad’s clubs to peddle his wares. Not in person of course, he was too clever for that, and had a network of minions dealing for him. Both of them had fall guys, their own hands lilywhite.
Not that it mattered. Banford’s sheriff, Jack Hall, was nearing retirement. He didn’t have the energy, nor the drive to take on the rot slowly killing the town. All he was interested in was his coffee and donuts in the morning, making it through the next three months until he could hang up the badge.
“Not so much forgot, but claiming what’s mine.”
Her skin crawled at his touch as he leaned forward and tried to press his lips to hers. Bile rose and she turned her head, twisting her shoulders with a sharp jerk to slide out of his hold. He didn’t have a good grip, and wrestling with her brother when they were kids had taught her to take advantage of that.
; “Conrad, what the hell are you doing?”
Quickly, she stepped away, putting distance between them. The problem was he was between her and the door. The look on his face made her suppress a shudder. And not of the fun, happy sexy times, sort of shudder. Threat and danger hung in the air. Even though his muscular body was starting to soften from driving a desk, he was still much bigger than she was.
This could get ugly fast.
His smile turned smug. “You’re mine, Bobbi. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
Rage welled up from her core, bursting from her soul to fill every cell in her body. She ached to launch herself forward and slap the ever-loving shit out of the guy. Where the fuck did he get off, assuming crap like that?
“I’ll never be yours. Ever. Did your mother not teach you the difference between yes and no?”
He studied his fingernails, plucking at an imaginary speck of dirt. It had to be imaginary. She doubted he’d ever done an honest day’s labor in his life. He looked at her, still smiling, but the expression behind his eyes was flat. Empty. Like a shark.
“I’d advise you to play nice, Bobbi. So far I’ve been very patient with you, and believe me, you don’t want to try that patience.”
Without another word, he turned to go, the heels of his expensive Italian leather shoes ringing out against laminate that had seen better days. As soon as the door shut, she darted forward, flipping the sign over to say closed and slamming the lock into place.
Alone. As secure as she could be, she slid down the wall by the door into a tiny ball and did her best not to cry.
***
Darkness surrounded Reese as he rode through town on his way back to the motel. The hum of the powerful machine beneath him was soothing. Although he rode a bike, he would never consider himself a biker, too many aches and pains from old injuries for that.
Sure, he was a bear, and his nonhuman nature meant he could heal injuries that would bring a human to death’s door. A lifetime of military service and combat insured those injuries were not run-of-the-mill, and even a bear’s physiology couldn’t handle being blown up repeatedly. His knees ached, and his left shoulder clicked a lot, and getting his shit together in the morning required a lot of coffee before he felt even halfway human…bear…whatever.
He leaned into the corner as he turned down Main Street. A local out walking his dog stiffened and turned at the sound of the bike engine, then visibly relaxed as he saw Reese. Dressed in cargo pants and a utility jacket as he was, no one could mistake him for a member of the motorcycle gang that plagued these parts.
He checked them out, just to be sure. That kind of gang tended to be all over anything illegal going on. They’d made camp in some woodlands out of town, but appeared more interested in drinking and telling each other tall tales than doing anything illegal. He got bored after an hour and left them to it, moving on to check out other leads on Riley.
He had to admit, the bastard had a right little empire going on. Everything from drugs to small-scale gunrunning— and it was small-scale. Reese had helped take down international arms dealers in his time, so it was street guns rather than nukes— plus the protection racket. And if the guy didn’t also run girls at the strip joint that seemed to be his base of operations, then Reese would eat his fucking hat.
So far though, he hadn’t laid eyes on the man himself. Just his lackeys. Clever SOB. He knew to keep his hands whiter-than-white. Reese knew his books and computer systems would be just as clean; the real work was done where law enforcement would never find it.
Not a problem, it was just the sort of challenge he liked. He’d taken on bigger and meaner than Cole Riley and ground them into dust. That was what he did. Used his abilities and proclivity for violence and destruction to make the world a better place. To help people. At least here, in Banford, he’d be able to see the people he helped instead of being shipped out to the next operation almost before the last shot had been fired.
Pulling into the parking lot behind the diner, he cast a glance at the dark windows. Closed already. Bobbi must’ve gone home… perhaps already gotten ready for bed. His blood heated at the thought of her all cosy and sleepy in nightwear. Would she wear cotton or silk? Was her preference feminine, or boyish… Either or, he didn’t care. He’d strip the stuff off her, and…
Movement in the diner caught his eye. Just the tiniest flicker, right in the corner, but he saw it. Contrary to popular belief, bears had excellent vision, including night sight. The short-sighted bear fumbling around for its pot of honey was a myth. Instead, bears were complete bad asses who could see a flea on a dog’s back at six hundred paces and fuck shit up just because they could. So he easily spotted Bobbi crouched against the wall by the door.
His bear rushed to the fore, all snarly and protective. That was their woman and she was cowering in what looked like fear. She shouldn’t fear anyone. Ever. The bear raged against his control, wanting to find out who’d scared her and rip them to pieces.
Barely hanging on to control, Reese slid the back wheel of the bike around and skidded to a stop on a spray of dirt and small pebbles. He kicked the stand down, leaving the bike there as he strode for the door.
“Bobbi?” He pressed his palm against the glass of the door only to find it wouldn’t budge. Locked. “Open the door, sweetheart. It’s just me.”
Silence was his only reply, and he couldn’t see her properly from this angle, just the edge of her knee and leg in the darkness. The slight movement she gave told him she knew he was there.
“Bobbi? It’s Reese,” he repeated, just in case she didn’t recognize his voice. Since he was probably the only guy with an English accent within fifty miles though, he was pretty sure she would. “Let me in, darling.”
Seconds stretched longer to the point he pulled his hand back. As he did, he took a deep breath, reaching for her scent. The door wasn’t well sealed and there was a window open a little ways up and to his right, allowing the smells from within the diner to drift to him. If he smelt her blood…so help him, he’d bust right through this glass to get to her. He’d walk through hell and back if she needed him to, so one small glass door was nothing.
No blood though, just a shit-ton of fear and pie…smelled like steak and onions. His stomach growled but he ignored it. Opening his mouth to talk to her again, she moved before he could speak, standing and wiping her eyes. Clearing up the evidence of her tears before she let him in. She had no clue he could see as well at night as he could in the day, obviously.
He waited as she reached out for the bolt, trying not to jiggle from foot to foot with impatience. As soon as the bolt cleared, he shoved the door opened and hauled her into his arms.
“What happened? Tell me,” he demanded, doing his best to keep the growl out of his voice. Gentle and understanding, he reminded himself, but it was hard as fuck when his bear was all growly stompy.
“It’s okay. Just me being stupid, that’s all.”
She rested against him, burrowing into his arms like a frightened creature. Her small frame shook and the smell of her fright was an acrid sting in his nostrils. Whatever had happened had rattled her. Pulling her closer, he rubbed her back in small, soothing gestures.
At least he hadn’t popped a claw. His bear was closer to the surface than he’d ever felt it…fur poking from his pores… but she was traumatized enough as it was. Finding out all the creatures of myth and legend existed on top of what she’d been through would be enough to crack even the strongest mind.
“Bobbi…can you tell me what happened?” he leaned closer and froze. There…just faintly on her shoulders…the scent of another man.
“Who was it? Did he hurt you?” How he managed to keep his bear under control, he had no clue, but he did, pulling back to look down at her face.
“No,” she admitted. There was a damp patch on the front of his jacket where she’d been silently crying. She laughed a bit, wiping at her eyes. “I’m being stupid, that’s all. He caught me off guard. I
should have made sure the door was locked after Louise left, but she’s always forgetting stuff and I have to let her back in. I should have known better.”
He slid his hands over her shoulders, and her upper arms. Rubbing for comfort and to erase the other man’s scent, covering her in his own. He ached to claim her. Now. Yesterday. Fucking morals.
“Who was it?”
It wasn’t a question, and they both knew it. She sighed and closed her eyes.
“Conrad Jackson. He’s been trying to get me into bed for a few months. Doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word no. Came here to tell me I was his and not to try his patience.”
The growl escaped before Reese could stop it. “Fuck that. Bastard can’t just walk in and claim he owns you like that.”
She shook her head. “I keep telling him that. But he seems a little rattled, perhaps after someone busted up one of Riley’s bars and warned them all off me.” Her eyebrow winged up and she looked at him suspiciously. “Want to tell me anything about that, Reese?”
The sound of his name on her lips was heaven itself. Feigning an innocence he’d never possessed in all his born days, he shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Is that it? He just talked?”
She seemed way too rattled for a mere talk, however threatening. And the asshole had touched her. Just for that Reese was going to break every bone in his hands. Maybe up to the shoulder.
She nodded, but tears sparkled in her eyes again. He reached out and brushed one fat tear away as it slid down her cheek. “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”
“He…tried to kiss me.”
Rage hit Reese. White-hot and feral, it exploded through him like a blast of C-4. His bear snarled, and fur covered his back in a wave before retracting beneath his skin.
“Fucking son of a bitch, I’ll kill the bastard!” he snarled. “Tear his spine out and dance in his fucking entrails.”
