by V. Vaughn
“I’ll take it,” Ryan hands me a paper napkin.
I wrap it around the bullet and hand it to him before I move to put pressure on his wound. But as I wipe up the blood around the incision, I notice he’s no longer bleeding. I wipe the spot where I cut him and discover it’s closed up completely. I blink to make sure I’m seeing things right. “You’re not bleeding.”
He lifts up to stand, and he pours water onto another piece of his shirt before reaching back to clean off his bottom. “I know. Thanks.”
Ryan’s still got his back to me, and I did just dig around his butt cheek with a hunting knife, but I’m suddenly aware that he’s naked from the waist down. I move toward my side of the truck to give him some privacy, and I wonder who Ryan really is. I’ve never heard of anyone who could heal as fast as he apparently does, and I’d certainly never believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
I get back in the truck and put the blood-soaked rag on the floor before pouring water on another piece of flannel to clean the knife. Ryan rummages through a bag and pulls out clean jeans and another shirt that he changes into before he gets back behind the wheel and turns to me. “You have questions.”
“I’m not sure I want to know the answers.” I take the last clean piece of his shirt and wet it to wash my hands.
“I can imagine, but when you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything.”
Even though my hands are clean I keep rubbing at them anyway. I have a strange desire to stay with Ryan, and I think about those stories of people beginning to care about their captors. But that usually happens over the course of weeks, not after a couple of hours. It’s most likely that I’m afraid to admit how stupid I was, and that’s not a good enough reason to avoid turning myself in. “Will you take me to the police now?”
“If that’s what you want, yes. It’s the Royal Canadian Mounted Police here, and I’ll take you to the RCMP detachment in the next town.” He smiles at me, making his eyes twinkle. “But I really could use an elf if you’re up for it.” He starts the truck and the engine rumbles. “Are you hungry? I am.”
“Look at me. I’m hungry.”
He frowns. “You think you’re fat.”
I chuckle. “I am fat.”
He shakes his head and begins to drive. “You’re soft the way a woman is supposed to be. I find you very attractive.”
Heat rushes to my face because I believe he means it. “And you’re sweet for saying so. I find you attractive, too.”
He flashes a big grin at me. “Was it my ass?”
I laugh. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
“I wouldn’t mind if you told me what you like.”
“Okay. You’re huge, and I mean that in a good way.” I think about how he tossed me over his shoulder but his grip didn’t hurt. “You’re all muscle, yet you have a gentle touch.” And then I think about how he took a bullet for me and my heart fills with emotions that are ready to spill over. “You make me feel safe. Like…”
“I’m your protector.”
“Yes. You said that earlier. What did you mean?”
He nods toward a road sign. “Looks like there is a diner at the next exit.”
I want to know why Ryan thinks he’s my protector, but he seems to be avoiding the question because he says, “You have the most beautiful smile. When I saw it, I wanted to know who you were, and when you began to sing—” He blows out a breath of air. “You gave me goosebumps. I bet you hear that a lot.”
“Sometimes.” My heart warms with his praise, and I find I’m smiling.
“The couple sitting next to me at the bar said you suffer from stage fright. Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Why? You have to know you have an incredible voice.”
I sigh. I’ve dissected my issue many times. It has a lot to do with being abandoned by my mother and then living in multiple foster homes. No matter how great the parents were, and I was lucky enough to have two wonderful placements, I never felt as if I had a real home. It does a number on my self-worth. “I do know I’m good. But there’s something about having people looking at me, expecting greatness, when I don’t feel great.”
“So that’s why you don’t look at anyone at first.”
“I usually don’t look at anyone at all. Except Erin and Jake, or some of my other friends if they come to see me.”
He flips on his blinker and it ticks rhythmically. “But you looked at me.”
“You kind of have a presence.”
He smiles at me.
I know I should ask where Ryan is from, but I’m afraid to find out. I feel like knowing who he is could change the way I feel about him. Or maybe it’s because I’ll find I’m stuck in some alternate reality I have to figure out how to escape from, and right now, I just want to like the man who saved my life.
He says, “I like your hair, too. The way it falls over your shoulders is like it’s tempting me to brush it back and hold it in a ponytail for you.”
The vision of me riding him plays in my mind, shocking me and making my insides warm up at the same time.
Ryan lets out a low noise that sounds a little like a growl, and it wraps around me like his hand holding my hair back. He says, “Don’t ever cut it short.”
“I won’t.” My face is flushed, and I look out the window as I ask, “What are you hungry for?”
He chuckles, and I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing that my intention to change the subject didn’t work. Ryan says, “Don’t be embarrassed. You can’t help it.”
I snort at his cockiness. “You’re something else.”
He grins at me. “I am. But what I meant is that you can’t help your physical attraction to me the way I can’t help mine for you.”
“You—” I sigh and shake my head. Fred likes to say things like that to me, but now I know it was to keep me as his drug-running errand girl. My heart aches as humiliation fills me. I burrow deeper into Ryan’s fleece and inhale the scent of pine mixed with a hint of him. I’m not sure why, but even though Fred’s corny lines that made my knees weak were all said to trick me into being his drug runner, I want to believe what Ryan is saying. But I’d be a fool to let another man suck me in the same way.
Ryan pulls into a diner, and he parks his truck near the front under a bright light. He’s not hiding, and it makes me think he’s trying to show me who he really is. And I think it’s time I find out.
Chapter 8
Ryan
* * *
The light I park under shines in Chrissy’s eyes as she says, “I need you to be completely honest with me.”
“I will be. Ask me anything.”
She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Where are you from?”
“Orono, Maine.”
Chrissy blinks, and then she frowns. “What is your job?”
“They call me a warrior. I protect my clan.”
“Clan?” Her brow knits further. “Like a cult or something?”
“We’re like a large family.” I want to tell her what kind, but if Chrissy does turn herself in before committing to me, I can’t be sure what she’ll tell the authorities. She may be my true mate, but I’m bound by duty to protect my clan. “Many of us work for Bear Mountain Tree Farm. You may have seen our dark green trucks before.”
She nods. “I think I have.” She glances down at my lap. “Do you make yourself a human shield often?”
“Tonight was the first time I’ve blocked a bullet, but protecting people is my job.”
She sets her jaw. “What’s in the back of the truck?”
“Presents, food boxes for Christmas dinner, and a large cooler of frozen turkeys.”
She lets out a huff as if she doesn’t believe me. “Show me.”
I imagine she needs proof after being fooled into running drugs, and I open the door of the truck to walk to the back. The tailgate thuds when I lower it.
Chrissy follows me, and I turn to her. “Would you like to go through the boxes
yourself?”
“I—” She grimaces.
“It’s okay. I get why you need to know.” A box scrapes as I drag it over, and I open the top to let her peer inside at the canned goods and supplies to make a holiday dinner.
After I pull the fifth one forward to show her the contents she says, “Okay. That’s enough.” She tilts her head at me. “You are the oddest man I’ve ever met, but I do believe you’re planning to do good.”
I smile. “Does that mean you’ll eat with me before we take you to the RCMP detachment?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“Good,” I begin walking toward the diner. “Because I’m craving poutine.” I hold the door open for her.
“You eat poutine?”
“You don’t?”
“I do. I’ve never met a French fry I didn’t like, and loaded with gravy…” She slides into a booth by the window where we can see my truck and lets out a big sigh. “But I really shouldn’t. I don’t work out like you do.”
“That does help me burn calories, but it’s also good genes.” Werebear metabolism is fast, and I want to tell her that if she becomes one, she’ll be able to eat more of what she wants and still maintain her weight, too.
Chrissy slides out of my fleece to set it aside before she peruses the menu. She’s one of those people who wears her thoughts on her face, and when her nose scrunches up, I chuckle. Her brown eyes widen as she looks at me over the menu. “What?”
“What food do you hate?”
“I—” She shakes her head, and chuckles. “Tuna melts. Erin, my friend, loves them, but I think they smell like dirty socks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Dirty socks? I can see that, but now you’ve ruined tuna melts for me forever.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean to, but— Well,” she grins at me, “you asked.”
“I did.” I smile back. “I’m a burger kind of guy anyway.”
“I believe it. So what are you getting?”
“Poutine and pie.”
“A well-rounded meal.” She nods and sets the menu down.
The waitress comes over with a pot of coffee, and we both let her fill our mugs. After I order poutine to be followed by apple pie with ice cream, Chrissy says, “I’ll take the same, but make my pie blueberry, please.”
“I’d tell you that’s a lot of poutine for two people,” the waitress looks at Chrissy, “but my guess is the big guy will eat half of yours, too.”
“Only if she lets me,” I joke.
The waitress winks. “Now he’s a keeper.”
“Oh,” Chrissy says, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
I wink back at the waitress. “I’d like to be.”
Chrissy drops her chin, but not before I notice her cheeks flush pink.
The waitress gives me a knowing smile before she walks away.
Chrissy’s spoon clatters against the mug of coffee as she stirs in cream and sugar, and she keeps looking at her cup when she asks, “How did you make us zing?”
“I didn’t. Destiny did.”
She looks up at me as she lets out a snort.
“I’m serious.” I hold out my palm. “You don’t believe in soul mates?”
She shakes her head. “I think we’re lucky to fall in love and even luckier if we can find someone to last for a while. But the idea of someone sticking around forever?” She huffs. “It doesn’t happen.”
“Really.” I flatten my palm on the table and slide my hand back as I sit up. “How do you explain the couples who stay married for fifty or more years?”
“Maybe they came from a generation where divorce wasn’t an option and they still feel that way, or maybe they’re just too complacent to leave.”
I grab my coffee. “So you don’t believe couples who are together for decades still love each other?”
She shrugs. “I’m sure a few do on some level, and maybe some couples fall in and out of love with each other over the years. But in love forever? Nope. Doesn’t happen.”
“It did for my parents.”
She squints at me over her coffee and takes a sip. “And that zing is how they knew they would?”
I chuckle. “That was one of their first clues, yes. But they also found they were attracted to each other in a way they hadn’t felt with anyone else.”
She glances at my hand on the table and frowns. I flip it over to offer her my palm again, and she sets her hand on mine gently. Her fingers are icy cold on my skin, because werebear body temperature runs hotter than that of humans, but the warmth of our connection twines itself through my veins and toward my heart.
She gazes into my eyes and takes a deep breath before blowing it out slowly. “This is like climbing into a warm bath.”
I close my hand around hers to hold her fingers lightly, and I nod.
“Your eyes are so blue,” Chrissy says and licks her lips, which sends a tingle of desire to my lower belly. “I could—” She chuckles and pulls her hand away. “You’re good. I bet you get any woman you want into your bed.”
I hate that she’s so jaded, and I wonder who hurt her so badly. “It’s not a trick, Chrissy. What you described is how it feels for me on a more magnified level.”
“You must be overwhelmed then. But if that’s a sign we’re soul mates, why haven’t I ever heard of this?”
“True mates. And it’s because my world is secretive.”
“Your world.” She shakes her head and leans back to let the waitress set down our poutine. Once the waitress walks away, Chrissy reaches for a fry. She takes a bite and lets out a little moan of happiness. When she’s swallowed her food, she says, “I’ve been to Orono. It’s a regular town, not some magical place you keep calling ‘your world.’”
I shrug. I’m in dangerous territory, because while I don’t want to lie to her, I can’t reveal what I am yet. “My section of Orono is a tight-knit community.” I grab one of my fries and hold it up. “You’d like where I live.”
“I probably would.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, where do you live?”
“Stationville.”
“Close to the border. I know it.”
She smiles wryly. “It’s a small town, but I wouldn’t call it a close-knit community. At least it never has been for me.”
“What about your family?”
She shakes her head. “Foster kid. I don’t have family.”
Having always known the love of my family and an entire clan of over one hundred people who look out for each other, I can only imagine what it must be like to feel so alone. I want to pull Chrissy into my arms and tell her that I’m her family now and there is a whole clan who will welcome her when she’s ready. But I’m sure the last thing she wants is my sympathy, so I keep eating and decide to let destiny do her job.
Chapter 9
Chrissy
* * *
I push my half-finished plate of poutine toward Ryan. “Do you have sisters and brothers?” I ask.
He reaches for a fry. “I’m a triplet with two sisters and also have a set of twin brothers who are two years younger.”
“Wow, a big family. It must be cool to be a triplet.” Growing up in different foster homes with other kids coming and going, I learned not to get too attached to anyone. But I often fantasized about having a twin who’d be my bestie forever.
“It has its moments.” He chuckles. “Puberty was tough.”
“What do your sisters do?”
“Both are married. Actually, all four of my siblings are married and have children. I’m the odd man out. Kathy is a teacher, Lynne cuts hair, and my two brothers, Kevin and Mark, work at Bear Mountain Tree Farm.”
I imagine family holiday scenes from movies. “Holidays must be fun with young kids running around.” It occurs to me that since Christmas is two days away and Ryan’s playing Santa, he won’t be home this year. “But you’re going to miss it.”
He shrugs as he sops up the last bit of gravy with a fry. “It’ll be a nice change this
year. Being the single guy and listening to everyone talk about what a shame it is that I’m alone gets old.”
I think about how lonely my Christmas will be this year. I had plans to spend it with Fred, but I’ve had a sinking feeling for a while that he was going to find a way to cancel on me like he did with Thanksgiving. Erin is going to Pennsylvania to be with Jake’s family this year, which means I’ll be all alone.
Ryan asks, “What are you doing for Christmas this year?”
I chuckle. “Spending it in a Canadian jail?”
He frowns at me. “You don’t have to.”
The waitress comes over to refill our coffee and take the dirty dishes away. She tells us the pie will be right out, but the idea of being in jail makes me queasy. I say, “I have to turn myself in, Ryan.”
“Yes, you do, along with the car seats, but it can happen on US soil if you want it to.”
“How? I can’t get back without my passport.” The mention of car seats makes me lose my appetite all together, because while I left them in the garage below my apartment, I’m worried about my band. With the exception of tonight, they were with me when I transported drugs across the border over the course of the last year. “Can I make a call to see if my band is safe?”
“Of course,” he says. Ryan pulls out his phone and hands it to me, but I realize I don’t have anyone’s number memorized.
I decide to check our social media to see if they posted anything and find they made a cryptic post about an exciting night. I log in to my account and message Rick. I’m okay. Did you guys make it back okay?
Rick immediately replies, OMG, where are you? Are you hurt? Did you get shot? We’re all fine here. Erin and Jake missed the whole thing.
No. I’m fine. I notice he’s typing as I do.
