BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (110 page)

Fear lurched in his stomach for an unknown reason and he squirmed, trying to get out, but for all his preternatural strength they managed to hold him against the wall.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” the one with the impossibly yellow eyes said. “Usually, we have to hunt you guys down.”

Bruce frowned. It didn’t make sense, and somehow at the same time, his subconscious was screaming at him. There was something he should have known.

The man he’d attacked walked closer and wrapped his fingers around Bruce’s neck. The moment he did that same hum he’d felt through the bond washed through his body. He felt warm and tingly all over, a warmth that could easily be misinterpreted for familiarity or safety. But it was the exact opposite.

Bruce knew this because he’d felt it before, when one of the bears that he’d been close to had died at the hands of the Assassins. He’d been close enough to feel the warmth, like a mother tucking you into bed.

But when the light went out the darkness was final. His friend had found that out.

“I know you know what I am,” the Assassin said the moment Bruce recognized what Bruce was feeling. Bruce tried to twist his body to get out, tried to turn his head away from what he was looking at, but it didn’t work.

“And I know why you’re here,” he kept going. “But I’m not going to let her go until I find all of it. And then I’m not going to stop until I find all of
you.
”

Bruce tried to speak, but the hand on his throat pushed down harder so his words were twisted puffs of air instead.

“I’m not going to kill you yet. That will make her useless to me. I need that bond you made with her. But you’re not going to be able to stop us. If you try, I’ll kill her too.”

Bruce wanted to argue. Wanted to fight. Wanted to do anything other than hanging helplessly against the wall while five pairs of glowing eyes mocked him. But he couldn’t.

Something came from the left and before he could register what it was, it struck him on the temple. Darkness followed the blow, and then the hands let him go. He fell to the floor, sinking into the black that was suddenly very welcome. The last thing he heard before it all slipped away was an echo of the Assassin’s voice.

“If you try, I’ll kill her too.”

Chapter 4

Jenna hadn’t wanted a relationship, but somehow her nights with Darren had started to become just that. Nothing was official, nothing was labeled, but still it was more than friendship.

He kissed her whenever he wanted to. In fact, it felt like he kissed her whenever
she
wanted it, even though she never said anything. And she let him because his lips on hers felt amazing. They were always accompanied with the feeling that everything was alright in the world, that her past didn’t matter, and she was starting to believe it.

When she’d left Williamsburg she’d felt like she was leaving her life behind. She’d ached for her people, craved the mountain air and the sunshine and wanted to go back so many times.

But since Darren had arrived that had been fading. She’d started spending more and more time with him, and everything she’d been running away from had dimmed into the background until thinking about it didn’t scare her anymore. In fact, thinking about her made her feel almost nothing at all. She was sufficiently numb. Maybe, she thought, this was what it felt like to move on.

The seasons had changed. The cold had come and brought now show. She’d been used to the white powder that had coated the world, but in El Verano, so far south, there was no snow.

It was the last piece of the puzzle that was her new life. Everything was different now, even the seasons. Christmas was on its way, and it wouldn’t be a white one.

She thought back to Williamsburg, probably coated in snow by now, with patches of ice where puddles used to be and Christmas trees in the square. A pang shot through. She wasn’t going to spend Christmas with any of her family. Her parents were both dead and Williamsburg was in the past.

Besides, Darren was like a loved one, wasn’t he?  She couldn’t say she was in love with him, but she definitely liked him, and he made her feel like she wasn’t alone. Maybe he would spend Christmas with her, or take her home to meet his family he talked about once or twice.

It was hard to believe that she’d only known him two or three weeks. Things had gone so fast, and so slow, all at the same time.

The buzzer went off and Jenna pushed the button.

“Coming,” she said into the speaker and then grabbed her bag and locked her door behind her. She ran all four flights of stairs down to the lobby and then out the door where Darren was waiting for her on the steps to her building.

“Hey,” she said and kissed him when he pulled her closer.

“Ready to go?” he asked. She nodded. He was going to take her to the lighting of the tree that was taking place at St. Joseph hospice. They did a lighting of the tree every year, apparently, to celebrate the festive season, the loved ones still with them, and the ones they’d lost.

The hospice raised money and helped with the care of cancer patients.

When they arrived at the hospice they were allowed inside, and then walked through the door to the courtyard. The buildings were in a square around the courtyard and they’d managed to make the entire place white with fake snow. The tree was in the middle, larger than life, a real life Spruce that was in the ground and had been for over fifty years.

“This is beautiful,” Jenna breathed. Darren gestured to a spot where a blanket had been opened for a picnic and there was  a basket with food.

“Did you do all this?” Jenna asked. Darren nodded.

“I know you’re used to white Christmases,” he said. She felt emotional, all of a sudden, and not just because Darren was being amazing. When she sat down and watched the tree, a giant against the dark blue sky that was sinking into night, she felt nostalgic.

They ate and talked, and Jenna managed to distract herself. But when night fell and it was full dark, the festivities began.

The tree was wrapped in Christmas lights and it made the ball decorations and tinsel sparkle. There were candles everywhere, and one by one people started getting up and lit one.

“Do you want to?” Darren asked.

“Light one?”

He nodded. “You’re allowed to light a candle for someone you’ve lost if you like,” he said. “That’s what this is about. Even if it’s not someone you lost to cancer or another terminal illness.”

Jenna hesitated for a moment before she nodded. Her mother had died of old age. Her father had been slaughtered by animals. Neither of those had been illnesses, but they had been terminal. She got up and joined the queue. To her surprise, Darren came with her.

When she was in front she lit a candle. It had been for her parents, initially, but when she watched the small little flame dance on its wick, emotions welled up inside of her and she couldn’t hold back the storm anymore.

She started crying. She started mourning. Not just her parents, but everything. Everyone she’d left behind. Murphy, Murray, Lisa, Carla, Phil, Chaz.

Bruce.

She felt like something inside of her was ripping apart.

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, wondering how she’d lived her life this long without them. Darren put his hands gently on her shoulders and steered her away from the tree, back to their picnic blanket. She cried, letting him guide her.

He helped her sit down and pulled her against him.

That same warmth that she’d started to associate with him, the hum that always filled her when she was with him, was stronger now than ever. She thought of her dad, who had always told stories. Of her mom who had nearly died when her dad had. Of Murray who’d believed in her even when she’d felt the danger more than the others.

Bruce, who had been the reason she’d felt it all.

The memories pulled out the deep corners where she’d shoved them, and one by one they played like a film reel. She sat there for a long time, she didn’t know how long. Darren let go of her, and suddenly it all ended.

She dropped her hands and looked up. The night was bright with the tree, all the candles lit and couple and families sitting, looking at it. But the snow was fake, the candles were burning for people she didn’t know.

She looked at Darren. He looked at her, his blue eyes bright, an expression on his face she hadn’t seen before.

“Sorry,” Jenna said, feeling like she’d made an ass of herself. She didn’t even know where that rush of sorrow had come from.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Darren said. But he was too bright, too cheerful. Something was wrong.

“Is it alright if we head home?” she asked. She wanted suddenly to get away. She didn’t know from what, and she thought maybe it was from the atmosphere, the mourning in the air. Darren nodded and got up like he didn’t care that their night was being cut short. He packed up the basket, folded the blanket over his arm.

“Shall we?” he asked and started walking to the door. Jenna watched him go, feeling like something was out of place. She realized he hadn’t bothered to give her his arm.

She walked after him. When they got in the car he put on the radio, as if trying not to talk. Twice she tried to put her hand on his on the stick shift, but both times he took his hand away. It was like he was avoiding touching her now.

“Is something wrong?” Jenna asked.

Darren looked at her, his face illuminated by the passing streetlights.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said brightly. “I just want to get you home and warm.”

But she wasn’t cold. Not on the outside. With Darren’s warmth suddenly gone, she was only cold on the inside.

He dropped her off and kissed her, not on the lips but on the cheek.

“I’ll call you, okay?” he said. Jenna nodded, but she felt lost like she suddenly didn’t belong. Darren pulled off and she watched the taillights of his car disappear around the bend before she turned and unlocked the apartment door.

She fumbled in the dark, getting rid of her coat and her handbag before she flicked the light switch. The light came on, flooding the lounge area with the yellowish light that came from cheap light bulbs. When she turned someone was sitting on the couch.

Jenna yelped and jumped back, her whole body going numb before she recognized Bruce. He sat leaning against the couch with his face turned so she could only see half of him, but it was definitely him.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Jenna cried out, clutching her hand to her chest, her other hand flat on the wall behind her.

“Sorry,” he said. He turned so that he was facing her full on and the light fell on his whole face.

She clasped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, Bruce,” she said through her fingers. “What happened to you?”

There was a bruise on his temple that spread an ugly purple across his forehead and down the side of his face. Blood was matted in his hair although she couldn’t see any kind of wound, and when he looked at her he looked like he was struggling to focus.

“I’m not healing as fast as I should,” he said. “It’s because they got me.”

He was babbling and she didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“Let me help you with that,” she said, moving toward the kitchen where she grabbed a washcloth and wet it. Jenna had always been good in pressure situations. It was easier to get up and do something about it then feel sorry for yourself. Now she moved and did something because she was scared she would feel sorry for Bruce and fall right back into the trap that being head-over-heels had gotten her in the first place.

Bruce winced when she put her hand on his good cheek like it hurt all over.

“Do you have a headache?” she asked. He squeezed his eyes instead of actually nodding, which confirmed it. Jenna dabbed the wet cloth around the bruise, searching the hair for the wound that had caused all the blood. She couldn’t find it.

“What happened?” she asked, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

“They got to me,” he said again.

“Who? The Family?”

Bruce made an expression that almost looked like a smile, but then he winced again when she touched the bruise.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s not the Family,” Bruce said. “It’s the Assassins. When they get to us we heal slower than normal – it’s something they manage to work in our immune systems so we’re easier to kill.”

Jenna was quiet for a while, just cleaning Bruce up. Her mind was full of everything that was, everything that had to do with the shifters and the Assassins and the secret war that went on between them. A year ago, hell four months ago, she’d known nothing about this.

“I didn’t realize the Assassins were so close,” she said finally. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

“It had nothing to do with luck,” Bruce said, and something about him changed. He became intense, his eyes darkened and that wild side of him showed again, the side that she now recognized as his animal.

‘They’re keeping me alive so that they can find the Family and kill all of us.”

“How can they do that?” Jenna dropped her hand with the washcloth. The tip was a reddish brown from the dried blood, but she hadn’t found a wound at all.

Bruce turned to her, his shoulders square with hers. He took her hands in both of his.

“They’re using our bond to track me. If they kill me they won’t be able to use you.”

Jenna tried to make sense of what he was saying. Bond? Track?

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“We have a bond because we’re mated. Married. It’s how you found me in the woods when you found out I was a shifter. It’s how I ended up finding you here. It’s because we’re together. Bound.”

“But we’re not together,” Jenna said softly, and she could almost hear the hurt in Bruce’s intake of air. This was why she’d left. Because she knew that her union with Bruce would ultimately hurt either one, or both of them. She hadn’t meant it in a bad way. She’d just meant it in a practical way.

When Bruce spoke again his voice was strained.

“Whatever we are, the bond is still there. They’re using your bond, your knowledge of us, to track us.”

“I don’t know any Assassins,” Jenna said.

Bruce took a deep breath, like what he was going to say next was hard.

“You’re spending time with an Assassin, Jenna,” he said, and his words hit her like physical punches.

“What?” she managed to ask, but even as she did she could feel her anger growing. It started like a small lump of coal in the pit of her stomach, and grew, getting heavier and bigger.

“That man that you’re seeing, he’s an Assassin. He did this to me.” Bruce pointed at his face. Jenna got up and walked away from Bruce, like turning her back on him would make it all go away. A thought struck her and she turned to him, eyes narrowed.

“How long have you been following me?” she asked.

Guilt flickered across Bruce’s face, which made Jenna think that it wasn’t just that Bruce had come to town to pay her a visit.

“Dammit Bruce, I know we’re still married, but this is not acceptable. I have my own life, my own friends.” Which really just boiled down to Darren. “You can’t just waltz in here and tell me that the one person I actually enjoy spending time with is just using me.”

Bruce looked like he was searching for words. “I’m not just doing it to be spiteful, Jenna,” he said. “If you don’t want to be with me, then fine. I’m not going to force you. You could, in fact, have told me you wanted to leave and I would have let you go, made sure you were safe. Instead of running away like a thief in the night without saying goodbye.”