Her Protector

by V. Vaughn

  “Yes, the car seats,” Brad says, moving toward me until he’s in my face.

  I notice his eyes are bloodshot, and I wonder if he’s a junkie. Even if he’s not, I don’t think he’s being rational, and I need to get away from him. Especially when he reaches around to the back of his pants. I immediately imagine a weapon. Panic makes my heart stop, but courage I didn’t know I had helps me lift my knee up as hard as I can to connect with his groin. When he crumbles with a loud groan, I turn to run for the pub’s door.

  I only get a couple of steps before a gunshot rings out, and I yelp in fear. Fortunately, the shot of adrenaline in my veins helps me move faster. But I don’t get far before I’m yanked off my feet. A scream bubbles up in my throat only to be silenced by a hand over my mouth.

  A series of shots ring out as someone runs with me bouncing around like a rag doll, and in one swift movement he tosses me over his shoulder as he continues to run. The guy is huge, judging by how far off the ground I am, and I think the man who just tipped me may have just saved my life.

  My teeth rattle as I bounce on the guy’s back, and I wrap my arms around his torso for stability. Even though I feel like a cavewoman being stolen from some ancient clan, I figure I’m safer with this guy than I’d be back in the parking lot with Brad shooting at me.

  When I hear the wail of a siren, the man finally stops to set me down. I glance around to see we are in the back of some other business that is closed for the night. I gaze up at the guy who saved me. He doesn’t smile though. Instead, his face is full of concern. “I’m your protector, and we need to get out of here.”

  I chuckle at his odd choice of words. “What?”

  He frowns. “Brad tried to kill you.”

  I nod. “I think I may have been bringing something illegal over the border without knowing it. And…” I inhale sharply as reality hits me like a slap in the face. Brad tried to kill me!

  “Yes. I believe you were, and I’m guessing it was drugs if Brad was desperate enough to shoot. He must really need those car seats.”

  “You don’t think…” I shake my head, trying to process it all. I drove through the border with a van full of drugs. I look up at the guy as tears fill my eyes and worry for my band grips my heart. Did they get out of the bar okay? “I couldn’t tell him where they are. I’d put too many people in danger.”

  “I figured that. You were smart.”

  “And stupid.”

  “No.” His expression softens. “You were very brave.”

  I roll my eyes. “Bravery had nothing to do with it. My self-defense class kicked in.”

  The guy suddenly jerks his head, and he grabs my hand before he starts to run again.

  I run as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up with his pace. So when I hear gunshots and he tosses me over his shoulder again, I don’t complain. I have no idea where we are going, how we’re going to get out of this mess, or even what the guy’s name is. But for some reason, I trust he’s going to figure it out because I think this man is my protector.

  Chapter 6

  Ryan

  * * *

  Pain radiates though my left butt cheek every time my left foot hits the ground, but I can’t stop running yet. I need to get Chrissy and me to my truck and get out of this town to safety. When I jumped in front of her to block Brad’s first gunshot, I took the hit. And while I can deal with the pain, my werebear healing is a problem. It’s speedy, and my body is trying to heal my wound around the bullet inside of me while it tries to push it out. I need to get the bullet out soon.

  I could hightail it back to Maine and get the doctors in any of the Northeast Kingdom clans to do it, but since Chrissy didn’t take her purse to the parking lot, my guess is that she doesn’t have her passport, and there’s no way I’m getting Chrissy across the border without it. Right now, though, my bigger concern is how we’re going to get to my truck. That last round of shots was from more than one shooter.

  There’s another reason I’m not ready to let her go. I knew there was something special about the girl the moment I heard her sing, but when she touched my hand to take her tip, I felt the zing that confirmed it. Chrissy is my true mate. And I think destiny set a series of events in motion for me to find her tonight for more than love. She needs me to protect her, too.

  I stop running when we get to a building that is across the street from where I parked my truck. It’s a block away from the Landmark but still dangerously close to where people are milling around outside. Blue and red lights of two police cruisers are flashing, but I think I made a big enough circle to get back that I lost whoever was chasing us. Even if I didn’t, my truck is our best option for getting out of here. I hold my finger to my lips and then lean in to whisper in Chrissy’s ear. “See that red truck under the streetlight?”

  She nods.

  “We need to get in that undetected so I can get us out of here.”

  “Police?” she whispers back.

  I shake my head and mouth the words, Trust me.

  She gazes into my eyes with an intensity that makes me think she might sense our connection to each other. She nods.

  I hold up a hand to indicate she should wait, and I search the vacant lot behind us to find a rock about the size of a baseball. With my strength, I should have no trouble hitting the streetlight with the stone to shatter it and render the area dark enough for us to slip into my truck without being noticed. The noise of the light smashing will also flush out anyone who’s looking for us in the immediate area.

  I begin to move along the side of the building that hides us from the Landmark and toward the street, but instead of staying behind the building, Chrissy follows me. I let her because I’m sure she’s freaked out and doesn’t want to be alone. And honestly, I’d rather keep her close to me, too.

  When I can see the Landmark, I notice Brad with a police officer, but he’s not in cuffs. He’s talking with the officer, who pats him on the shoulder like they’re friends. My jaw clenches tight. It makes me think the shooters that came after me and Chrissy were dirty cops. I have to get us out of here fast.

  I take aim, throw the rock, and hit my mark on the first try. Glass rains down on the sidewalk, and a few people glance over, but even Brad and the cop seem to think the excitement of the shooting makes an exploding streetlight seem tame. I motion for Chrissy to join me, and I crouch down to look shorter as I wrap my arm around her waist as if we’re a couple, and we stroll over to the truck as casually as we can.

  Chrissy looks at me with wide eyes once we’re inside the vehicle, and I say, “Get down.” She crouches down on the floor of the truck as I turn it away from the Landmark to head out of town. When we’re on the highway, I say, “You can get up now.”

  She gets in her seat and her seatbelt clicks shut. “You’re hurt.”

  I glance over at her in just a blouse and jeans. “I’m fine. Are you cold?” I reach for the heater control to turn it on high.

  “You’re not fine. You’re putting all your weight on your right hip. What happened?”

  “I took a bullet.”

  “You what? You got shot?”

  “Yeah.” I look at her to judge her reaction to what I’m about to say. “I’m going to need you to get it out.”

  She lets out a snort of disbelief. “I’m going to get it out?”

  “Someone has to, because I can’t go to a hospital with a gunshot wound.” That’s not the only reason, but I’m pretty sure Chrissy isn’t ready to find out I’m a werebear yet.

  “Oh, god,” she lets out a moan. “You’re a criminal.”

  “No. I’m—”

  She’s not listening to me. “What about my band? My friends?”

  I glance at her as I wind my way through side streets looking for a safe place to stop. “They’re likely okay. Brad was after you.”

  “But what if they aren’t? He knows Erin is my friend.”

  “I’m pretty sure they left in time, but I’ll make a call and get someone to chec
k on them.”

  “Hang on. What are you? An undercover cop or something?”

  I chuckle, pretty sure she wouldn’t believe me if I told her I’m a warrior for a clan of shapeshifters who can turn from a person to a bear in a matter of seconds. “I know people who can keep your friends safe.”

  Chrissy lets out a small gasp. “Are you a drug smuggler too? The competition? Is that why you were in the bar tonight? Trying to—”

  “Relax. I’m not running drugs. I don’t take them and never plan to.”

  “Okay.” She crosses her arms and squints at me. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  I shrug. “Because I took a bullet in the ass for you?”

  She snorts. “Sorry, that’s not funny, and it’s got to hurt like hell, but what if you only did that to get to the car seats?”

  “Then don’t tell me where they are.” I nod toward the backseat of the truck. “You’re cold. There’s a fleece you can borrow behind my seat.”

  “I bet you say that to all your women.” Chrissy unbuckles and reaches back to grab my fleece.

  “No.” I turn to look at her a little longer than I should when driving. She slides her arms into my fleece and wraps the excess fabric around her body. My bear puffs his chest out with pride over our mate wearing our scent. Even though we’re on the run from trouble right now, I’m deliciously happy I’ve found my true mate. “You’re the only one.”

  “See? Just when I think you’re trustworthy, you pull out a line like that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Where are you taking me? Why aren’t we going to the cops?”

  “Because they’re dirty,” I say. “Before I smashed the streetlight, I saw Brad talking with one of them as if they were friends.”

  She narrows her eyes at me in skepticism. “Then where are we going?”

  “Somewhere you can remove the bullet for me safely.”

  “Right.” She sinks back in her seat and is silent for a moment before she snickers. “Of course I’m going to remove a bullet. Because I brought a van full of drugs across the Canadian border, I almost got shot, and now I’m being kidnapped in a ridiculous-looking truck by a stranger who just saved my life. One who can’t go to a hospital for some reason he won’t tell me. As if this night could get any crazier.” She glances around and flicks the air freshener shaped like a tree. “Why are you driving around in a truck that looks like a sleigh?”

  I chuckle. “Because I’m Santa.”

  “So, what? You needed an elf and decided I’d be a good one?”

  I flash her a grin, glad she’s able to joke about the situation. “Well, you’re certainly tiny enough.”

  “Tiny? Hah! Well, I suppose compared to you, plus size does seem small.”

  “Did I have any trouble running with you over my shoulder?”

  “No,” she frowns. “You didn’t.”

  A small smile plays on her lips, and I reach over to hold out my palm. “You feel it, don’t you?”

  She looks down at my hand and then at me. “Feel what?”

  “Electricity, a zing, a spark.”

  “I—”

  “Take my hand.” I gesture toward her with my palm extended.

  “Are you kidding me? That line can’t possibly work for you.”

  I grin at her. “Just take my hand and tell me you don’t feel it.”

  She laughs. “Fine. Let me feel the electricity we have.”

  Her hand slaps in mine, and that tingle of our true-mate attraction rushes up my arm and straight to my heart before she jerks away. “What was that?” Chrissy massages her hand as if it’s in pain.

  “It’s destiny telling you we’re meant to be together.”

  “Hmpf.” She frowns at me. “You are so odd.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “Well, you do think you’re Santa,” she counters.

  I laugh. “Just wait until I put my red coat on. I’m going to be the hottest Santa you’ve ever seen.”

  She crosses her arms.

  I chuckle. “What?”

  She sighs. “You probably would be the hottest Santa I’ve ever seen. But tell me the truth, why are you driving a truck that looks like a sleigh?”

  “Because I really am going to be Santa, at least for one small town about six-hundred miles from here.” I grimace as I feel the muscles in my butt tightening around the metal in my body. “But first, I really need to get this bullet out of my ass. How are you with a knife?”

  “Who are you? And how is it you have a bullet in your butt and you’re still driving as if it’s just a splinter?”

  Another sharp pain slices through me, and I grimace. “Good questions that I’ll answer once you perform surgery.”

  “On your ass,” she laughs. “It figures it’s your ass. It couldn’t be a shoulder or a leg. No, it’s got to be the tight ass of a man the size of a bear, because that’s how my day is going.”

  I let out a snort at the bear comment, but then I grimace because my pain is increasing. My body is fighting itself as it attempts to heal. I can’t wait much longer, so I pull over when I see a bakery that’s closed and drive around to the back of it, checking for any lights to make sure the place is vacant. After I park, I find the knife under my seat and hand it to Chrissy. “Ready?”

  She looks down at the large hunting knife in her hand, and her eyes widen when she looks at me. “I’m supposed to dig around your butt cheek with this?”

  “Got something better?”

  “No, but don’t you have anything smaller? I’m going to leave a crater if I dig out a bullet with this thing.”

  I shake my head. “Just do your best.” I parked so that my door is toward the wooded area, and I say, “I’m going to pull down my pants and bend over my seat. You should have enough light from the door and the overhead bulbs.”

  She gulps, and the freak-out I expected earlier looks like it’s about to happen. I reach across and touch her arm. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. “I get it,” I say. “But think of this as payback for saving your life. Once you’re done, we’ll be even.”

  “We will? And you’ll take me wherever I want to go?”

  “If I can, Chrissy. I’m not kidnapping you, but I really need your help right now.” I flash her my best attempt at a grin. “It’s up to you to save Christmas. Okay?”

  She smiles wryly, and I imagine she’s thinking once she removes the bullet from my butt, she can turn herself in to the police and eventually go home where she can try to forget about her current nightmare. If that’s what she wants, I’ll honor her wishes. But Chrissy is about to find out situations like this are never that simple.

  Chapter 7

  Chrissy

  * * *

  The largest man I’ve ever seen is laying across his truck seat with his pants down at his ankles and his ass in the air as I roll up the sleeves of the fleece he lent me to above my elbows. I suppose I should be grateful that he’s got a nice ass with round, firm butt cheeks that have those little hollows on the sides. Before he laid down, he wiped his wound and cleaned up the dried blood with a wet rag he created by tearing up a flannel shirt, and I stare at the raw, red, circular scar he told me to slice open with a knife.

  He couldn’t have taken a shot for me. His wound looks days old. I realize if it was fresh there would be blood all over his car seat too, which there isn’t. I ask, “How long have you been walking around like this?”

  “Less than an hour.”

  “But—”

  “I heal fast.” He lets out a groan. “Can you please hurry?”

  The guy is so strange that I’m tempted to believe him, but I know better because of what I can see with my own eyes. Not that it matters at the moment, because he’s clearly in pain and needs me to help him. And once I do, I can go to the authorities and start to navigate my way out of the mess I’m in.

  I pull the knife from its sheath, and interior lighting from the truck bounces off
the shiny blade. “Shouldn’t I sterilize this?”

  “I haven’t got anything, and it won’t matter anyway.”

  “Yes, I suppose Santa doesn’t get infections, either.”

  “Something like that.” He lets out another groan. “Any time now would be good.”

  I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly before I move to pierce his skin with the knife. But the moment a dot of blood appears, my stomach flips. “Eww.”

  “Hey! Are your eyes closed?”

  “I—” I open my eyes, lift the knife in the air and gaze at the guy looking over his shoulder at me. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Ryan. Now can you please keep your eyes open so I’m sure it’s my ass you’re cutting?”

  “That’s fair.” I swallow down my queasiness and take another deep breath. I stick the knife into his skin again, and I let out a little noise of disgust as he lets out a small grunt of pain. It’s amazingly easy to cut into a person. “I’m sorry,” I say, but if I stop because I’m hurting him then I won’t finish the job. I push slowly until I hit something solid. “Found it!” I cry out, a little surprised it was that easy.

  “Good. Now slice an opening big enough for you to get your finger in and pluck it out.”

  “My finger? Oh, no.” I turn away from the blood that’s oozing out of the wound I inflicted, and I use a piece of the flannel shirt he gave me to sop some up. “I can’t.”

  “You think digging around with the knife is a better option?”

  He’s got a point. “No. Okay.” Pushing my finger into the hole is like sticking it into bread dough, and I get the odd sensation his body is trying to suck me in. I do my best to block out his groan, and I close my eyes again, but its so I can focus on what I feel. The bullet is slippery, but I manage to get my finger under it and nudge it to the surface. I open my eyes to pinch it between my finger and thumb and pull it out. “Got it.” I grimace at the sliminess of the bullet. “What do I do with it?”