Bear to the Rescue (Bear Claw Security Book 3) (11 page)

T
he man’s
grip tightened around her like a vise. “Hey, you’re the one who pissed people off. I’m just doing my job.”

“What’s that? Scaring innocent women because you’re the biggest asshole on the face of the planet?”

“No. I put little screwballs like you in their place. People who try to step out of their station to meddle in other people’s business. You shouldn’t do that. Someone always gets hurt,” he said as the blade on her throat tightened down, biting into her skin. Any harder and Regan was sure it would cut into her.

“You better drop the fucking knife now, or it’ll end up sticking out the back of your skull,” Bronson’s voice boomed into the alley, filling it with sound that reverberated off the close walls around them.

Regan couldn’t believe the relief that swept through her just at hearing that voice.

Without hesitation, the man spun around to face the noise, still holding her tightly.

At the end of the alley, silhouetted by the bright light coming from the market, was the towering shape of the man she was coming to love. Dammit, it was never clearer than that moment, and here, against an evil man’s chest, Regan literally couldn’t run from it.

As Bronson strode toward them, his features came into view, and Regan could see intense focus in his gaze as he surveyed the situation.

“Don’t come another step closer, or I’ll give this lady a cut the size of Arkansas,” threatened the man holding her, standing his ground.

“I don’t know who sent you, but they’re fucking with the wrong people,” Bronson responded, glowering as he inched closer.

Regan stayed still, waiting for Bronson’s next move. He was the pro in this situation, and she didn’t want to try anything stupid that would mess him up.

“You’re the one fucking with the wrong people,” the man spat. “What are you? Her boyfriend? Gigolo? Both?” The man sneered, trying to sound calm but coming off fairly tense.

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in kicking the shit out of you right now and leave it at that,” Bronson said, his words sharp and calm, his entire body perfectly poised. 

“Yeah, well, I’d like to see you try it,” the man spat back spitefully.

Then, like a flash of light so quick Regan more felt it than saw it, Bronson rushed forward, clearing the distance between them instantly and grabbing the man’s hand that held the blade and pulling it away from Regan’s neck. The man let out a yelp, and she heard bones crack as Bronson’s hand twisted the man’s wrist and clenched down on it, forcing him to drop the knife to the ground where it clinked several times.

Now with an opening, Regan ducked to the side as the man swung wildly at Bronson with his now-free hand. Bronson blocked it with his forearm effortlessly, then drove his knee into the man’s stomach, sending him flying into the brick wall to the left.

The man collided with a thud, then slumped to the ground. Bronson kicked the knife into a nearby gutter, where it disappeared from view. Then he walked over to the man and crouched, leaning over him angrily while the man coughed and struggled for breath after the blow to his body.

“You’re going to tell me who you work for right now, or I’m going to send you back to your employers so disfigured they won’t be able to recognize you,” Bronson said intimidatingly.

Regan held back a gasp at the brutal words, but seeing this new side of the fun, positive Bronson she knew was somehow exciting and frightening at the same time. The side of him that had served in the Special Forces and seen years of combat across the globe.

But before the man could respond, Regan heard sounds coming from the end of the alley and turned to see several men walking toward them, all of them brandishing various weapons.

“Crap, looks like we have company,” Bronson swore as he stood to face the men rapidly approaching. “Get behind me, Regan. Farther down the alley, okay?”

Regan just nodded and jogged back, giving him room to deal with the newcomers. The bear in her wanted to shift, wanted to defend her mate. But she knew the best thing for now was to let him fight for both of them.

The man at the front of the group charged first, rushing at Bronson and swinging a baseball bat. Bronson dodged to the side, then caught the bat on its backswing under his arm. Now at close range, Bronson grabbed the man’s shirt with his free hand and pulled him forward into a vicious head-butt.

The first man reeled backward, blood spewing from his nose just as another came forward with a large knife. Bronson stepped back, surprisingly light on his feet as he avoided the blade’s edge but stayed close to his attacker. Then, with incredible precision he grabbed the hand holding the blade, yanked it free, then lifted the man and heaved him bodily into a row of metal trashcans like a bag of garbage. 

The trashcans and their lids crashed in a deafening cacophony as two more came at Bronson from the sides, one with a long, thick chain wrapped around his hand and the other with a pipe. The man with the chain attacked first, and Regan could hear the whoosh of the metal links as they swung.

This time Bronson didn’t dodge, but instead, plucked the chain out of the air like it was moving in slow motion. Then with incredible force, he yanked the chain, pulling the man it was still connected to at the wrist to the side and into his unsuspecting ally on the left, whose pipe was raised and ready to strike.

Both men bowled over and tumbled to the ground, and Bronson followed up with a kick to the face for the first one, the sound of the impact on the man’s jaw echoing in the alley.

The man with the pipe struggled to his feet after losing his balance and made to run for the exit to the alley. But before he knew what hit him, Bronson grabbed the man by back of his shirt, pulling him back and then throwing him into a wall sidelong. 

The man gave out a shocked grunt as he hit the unyielding brick, then was silent as he dropped limply to the ground.

Bronson surveyed his handiwork quickly, watching for motion or any remaining protest, then wiped off his hands as he walked back to where Regan stood, stunned.

“Sorry, guys, I’d love to stay and chat, but we’re out. Send your employer my regards,” he said, picking Regan up and walking quickly toward the exit. As they came back into the rear of the market, Regan was shocked by the brightness of the sun around them and the blur of the crowd surrounding them.

“What’s going on? Aren’t we going to find out who they’re working for?” Regan asked, still shocked at the whole experience and trying to process what had just happened.

“It looks like you managed to piss off all the wrong people, and the last thing we want to do is wait around to see if more show up. Where there’s a few, there’s many, and my first priority is your safety,” Bronson explained as he hurried through the market toward the parked car, drawing confused looks from the people shopping around them. “Besides, they’re hired muscle. As much as I want to believe they know something, in all likelihood, they don’t.”

By the time they were back in Bronson’s Charger, Regan didn’t know if she felt safe again or if the whole world was spinning so fast she felt like she was going to careen off the edge of it and into space. Bronson pulled out and onto a nearby street and parked with locked doors. Then he looked over at her in concern.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, feeling her heart pounding in her ears. “I’m sorry. I just… I was stupid.”

“Hey, it’s all right,” he said, interrupting her rambling and leaning over to hold her close. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” His words were calm and soothing as one hand held her at her side and the other cupped the back of her neck as she dug into his shoulder, unsure if she wanted to laugh about the whole thing or cry. Maybe both. Maybe later.

“It is my fault,” she choked out, feeling the guilt of it weighing on her. “I needed space from you. I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling.”

“And what are you feeling?” he asked, holding her tight, her island in a stormy sea.

“I don’t know. I had life all planned out, and then you came along and ruined it.”

“How did I ruin it?” he asked.

She wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t know. You made me need you. You made it too nice to have someone else around. You made me fall for you.”

He was quiet, and she could sense the shock through the frozen posture of his body. Then he relaxed against her and let out a hoarse laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? I think that’s good news, personally.” He pulled back to look in her eyes. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

She swallowed and leaned back against him. She wasn’t ready to look him in the eyes yet. Was she really accepting this handsome, overwhelming man?

Doing so meant facing a painful past and forcing herself to risk her feelings in new ways. It meant stretching herself to fit a different kind of life. One with someone else in it, forever.

It meant allowing herself to hope, and that felt as scary as stretching herself across a thousand-foot void with only floss as a lifeline.

She clutched onto Bronson’s back as she thought of it.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, but I’m going to make it so worth it. I’m going to make you pancakes, please you in bed, and see you at work every day. It will be great, won’t it?”

“It’s not that it won’t be great,” she said. “It’s just hard to believe it will last.”

“The only way I can make you believe me is if you give me a chance,” he said. “Otherwise, you’ll never know.”

The longer he held her, the more she felt the stress of the past few days fading. Ever since she’d known him, he’d been keeping his promises and keeping her safe.

Maybe if there was someone to rely on, it could be him.

Feeling like she was agreeing to give someone an opening to stab her in the heart, she finally nodded.

“I’ll give us a try,” she said.

“You mean all the way?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “And I’ll take the full-time job at the office. And we can date openly there.”

“But not mate?” he asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“Sorry, no,” she said. “But this is what I can give you for now. It’s more commitment than I ever imagined. I need more than a few days to promise forever.”

Bronson nodded and rested against her another moment. “I understand. Just know I’m ready when you are.”

She laughed. “I think I get the idea.”

“All right,” he said. “Then, in the meantime, I’m taking you back to Bear Claw to get cleaned up.”

“Why there and not home?”

He turned to her seriously. “They were clearly following us. We’ll be safer there. Besides, I stashed one of their knives during the fight, and we should be able to run fingerprints on it. Even if they’re all hired guns, it should tell us something.”

She shook her head in awe. “You really know what you’re doing.”

“Here and there,” he said. “It’s my first time dealing with it while being in love, though.”

She blinked in shock and looked over at him. He gave her a small grin, and she knew he was waiting to see if she could say the same.

But even though she could feel it, she couldn’t yet say it. “Thank you,” she said instead.

His face showed only slight disappointment. “All right, should we head back?”

“I guess so,” she said. “Now that it’s gotten to this point, I don’t think we have any choice.”

“Yeah,” Bronson said. “Me and the guys will have to go after whoever employed these guys once we figure out who they’re working for.”

She nodded. “Just promise you’ll be safe, no matter what.”

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you, right?”

She sighed. “All right. Let’s drive back.” She held his hand as she leaned back in her chair, and he pulled the car out and onto the road again.

Every day was like a rollercoaster with him, but she didn’t think she could ever go back to normal from this day on.

Someone loved her. Now it was just up to her to believe him.

B
ronson felt
twitchy as he waited while Carrie checked Regan over for any scratches from her ordeal. He refused to have anything on him checked until he knew she was fine.

Seeing her in the alley in another man’s grasp had terrified him in ways he didn’t know he could feel terrified. He still felt like a part of him had been permanently shaken and wouldn’t ever forget.

He’d keep her safe forever. Something that would be easier now that she was agreeing to stay by his side even after they fixed this. Now he had a real chance to win her.

He wished she could just be like him, just feel it and know it and not doubt it, but he knew she had issues in that area. He didn’t know exactly how deep they went, but he knew being abandoned like that by your parents left deep scars.

But for some reason, his scars had left him with a longing for a good family, where hers had left her running from the idea of one.

Perhaps that was the difference between having something good and losing it and never having something good to lose. He’d never been close to any of his family members. He hadn’t gotten to know his brother that well, as his father had kept them apart, and he obviously didn’t feel close to his father.

Not like he did with the people around him, all of whom had become family.

Even Limes, who’d just gotten back from vacation, was in today, looking at Bronson with concern as he stood near his mate. They were both glowing from their honeymoon vacation, but both clearly thought only of their friends.

Limes’s mate, Jamie, a wolf shifter, was sitting next to Regan, holding her hand as Carrie checked her over. Regan gave Bronson a nervous smile, and Bronson grinned back, letting her know he was proud of her for letting in other people.

Limes walked over to him. The huge, shaved-head shifter with tats and piercings and a generally cranky attitude bumped Bronson in the shoulder.

“So I leave for a few weeks and you turn the most badass female hacker around into a mush pot?”

“Took less than that to turn you into a mushpot,” Bronson retorted.

Limes looked at him with a grin that was almost proud. “Touché. So when you making the big move?” He nudged the other man in the side. “Bear shifter. Nice.”

Bronson grunted. “None of your business.”

“I’d do it soon,” Limes said. “Before she sees how you smell after long missions.”

Bronson snorted. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Limes raised a fist for him to bump it. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re going to keep working with her. It’ll be good to have her around.”

“Speaking of that, I need you to run this for prints.” Bronson pulled out the knife he’d wrapped in a handkerchief and handed it to him. “I know you know people with access to the human database as well.” He gave Limes a pointed look.

Limes sighed and took it. “Yeah, I got some friends. I’ll take it care of it. They can keep their mouth shut. They owe me for shutting someone out of their system.”

“Good,” Bronson said.

Limes looked across the room to where Hercules was guarding the door, stern and protective and rather like the demigod he was named for. “Glad you hired Herc. Now you’ll have time to love on your lady instead of just taking hired muscle gigs.”

Bronson snorted. “Thanks. You two get a chance to catch up?”

“Nah,” Limes said. “We’d only just got back when all hell broke loose. Anyway, can Jamie stay here with you while I go run this?”

Bronson nodded. “We’ll watch out for her.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Limes said, uncharacteristically serious as his vivid green eyes found his mate. “Damn, when you find the right one, it changes everything.”

Bronson’s eyes wandered to Regan. “Yeah.”

“All right,” Limes said, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “I’m off, then. Take care of everything here.”

“I always do.” Bronson scoffed. But he grinned as Limes went over to hug his mate, tell her he was off, and then head out the door.

The office was fuller than ever, but it was good to have it that way.

His phone beeped and he swiped his fingers to unlock it without thinking about it.

There was an incoming message from an unknown number. Something about it felt off, sent a cold chill up his spine. He looked around the room, saw Regan was busy talking to the others as she rolled her sleeve back down, and then saw Carrie was coming over to him with a blood pressure cuff and her first aid kit.

He waved her away. “I’m fine. I’m a shifter after all.”

“And you were just in a knife fight,” Carrie said, putting a hand on her hip. “You didn’t send me for that first aid training so I could just sit around, Bron.”

“I know,” he said hesitantly, eyes flicking down to his phone. Who would be sending him a message and why?

He was tempted to not open it at all if someone was trying to get under his skin. There was a file attached, and he knew better than to open unwanted attachments. Limes had gotten on him about that enough for it to finally set in.

He sighed and locked his phone, slipping it into his pocket as he sat.

Carrie wrapped the cuff around him as he listened to the laughter of Regan and Jamie as they talked to Hercules about something. Just seeing her there, green eyes glowing with contentment, knowing she was safe and all right, made a feeling of well-being well up in him.

“You okay?” Carrie said quietly, for his ears only. “You know, the way you look at her, you better hurry and put a ring on it.”

“I know,” Bronson said. “Easier said than done. Especially with people after her.”

“I know,” Carrie said. “It’s a weird situation. Although, it was kind of lucky, since it forced you two closer together.”

“I know,” Bronson said. “Who would have thought?”

“I dunno,” Carrie said with a small grin. “I could have seen it from the outset. You needed someone in your life who saw through your bullshit, and she needed someone to bring some sunshine into the darkness.”

Bronson glanced up at Carrie. “I’m glad you think so.” He let her wipe up the small grazes of blood on his knuckles where he’d punched the men. “I’m fine though, really.” Despite his best efforts, the message waiting on his phone was burning a hole in his pocket.

“Put a ring on it,” Carrie said firmly. “Don’t take no for an answer. She wants you. She’s just waiting for that sharp brain of hers to catch up with her heart. It’s usually smart to be cautious, you know?” Carrie stood, putting things back in her kit. “But sometimes in the case of good guys, it’s just a little bit counter-productive. Thank heavens for patient men like you and Cage.”

Bronson grinned ruefully. He didn’t feel that patient at all. He longed to take Regan in his arms and carry her to his office and claim her right there on the desk. He wanted the right to stay by her forever. Protect her forever.

She’d promised him as much as she could, yet he still felt insatiable.

She looked over at him, as if she could feel his eyes on her, and her jade gaze softened, a small smile lighting her lips. If someone had told him weeks ago that the spunky, harsh employee would be looking at him like he was the only person in the world, he would have told them they were crazy.

But here she was. And here he was. Here they were together.

He bit his lip as he looked back at her, and she flushed and turned back to her conversation.

He felt his phone buzz and walked back to his office to think about how to deal with it while he waited for Limes to do fingerprints. He knew Regan would be safe there with Hercules and Cage watching out for her.

Who could be after her? He felt stupid for not knowing even after they’d made three attacks on her. He pulled out a pad of paper and doodled diagrams on it, trying to sort out his thoughts.

He wrote down what he knew. That the stalkers had harassed her online before she’d come to work there, but never in person.

And then after she’d been working there, they’d made a move to be there when she came down to the garage. And then escalated to trashing her house. All of that had been somewhat cowardly and shadowy and had still fit the profile of a deranged internet troll who couldn’t show his face.

But normally, those trolls wouldn’t be able to hire guys to come threaten her in person and hold a knife to her neck.

Bronson forced himself to focus as he diagrammed more, trying to find connections. The Salazar case. She’d been working that since she’d been there. Had it been them all along, escalating their efforts to keep her off the case?

But that didn’t fit perfectly either. There were other things they could have done than come after her in person.

He tapped his finger on the desk. Who would want to go after Regan and why? Sure, she’d done a lot of hacking, but how would anyone know she’d done it?

It was hurting his head just thinking about it, and he hoped Limes would call back soon with info so he could put his brain on the next task. Bronson simply wasn’t as sharp as his tech savvy partner.

He heard the door to his office open and saw Regan standing there, looking adorable as usual. She looked like she’d mostly recovered from her ordeal, and she gave him a sassy smile as she sidled over to his desk and sat in front of him on it.

He wanted nothing more than to run his hands over her thighs and pull her down for a kiss on the lips, but right now, he was stuck in business mode. Someone was after his mate.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, getting off the desk to stand between his legs as he sat back on his chair, running a hand through his hair in stress.

“Nothing,” he said, his hand moving to the phone in his pocket out of habit. He then moved it back to the arm of his chair, catching her suspicious look as he did.

Whatever the message was, he didn’t want her seeing it until he knew what it was.

“Something’s off,” she said, looking him over with narrowed eyes the color of cool moss. “What are you hiding from me?”

He shifted nervously. Why was he such a terrible liar? “Nothing,” he said.

She blinked at him, and he saw hurt flash in her expression. “You’ve never kept anything from me,” she said, walking around him to sit on a chair in front of his filing cabinet. “If there’s something happening, you need to tell me. I can’t be your partner if you won’t.”

“You won’t necessarily believe me either way, will you?” he snapped, more due to the tension in him than anything else.

He hated feeling out of control. He hated not knowing what was going on. And she, who could have given him at least one piece of certainty in this storm of vagueness, was making him wait.

Even though she had to know they were meant to be together.

And if he were honest, not knowing for sure if she was going to be his was slowly killing him.

Along with not knowing who was after her or when it would be over.

He felt irritation welling up in him and turned from her to face out the window. He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret.

“Ah,” she said. “I see. So you’re getting pissy and now you’re going to shut me out?” She shook her head. “So much for promises.”

“Promises?” He scoffed, standing up to his full height. “What good do promises do? I’ve been promising you the world for days now, and you still aren’t sure about me.”

Her eyes flashed, but she bit her lip in hurt. “You know that’s not your fault. Or mine. I’m working through things.”

“Well, I’m working through things, too. I’m working through how to protect you when I don’t even know what from. I’m driving myself crazy over it when I don’t even know if you’ll be mine.”

She went still, her small hands gripping the arms of her chair as she pushed to a standing position, slightly trembling from anger. “Wow,” she said, “good to know this is how you react in a crisis. I knew there was something under that perfect face you give everyone.”

“Right,” he said. “I couldn’t be perfect forever, and now you’ll hold it against me. I guess that’s it, then, and you won’t want me, no matter what I’ve done for you?”

She scowled at him over folded arms. “What you’ve done for me was never a reason to love you. And I’m not giving up on you, idiot. Even if you deserve it.”

He sighed and slumped against his desk, leaning all his weight there. Suddenly, he just felt… incredibly tired. Tired of fighting all the time. Fighting his family, fighting the bad guys, and fighting to be loved.

He pulled out his phone with a sigh and unlocked it, swiping to open the message.

He had to know what it was. Had to have just one mystery solved.

The message popped up ominously, only a few words of text from a number he didn’t know.

I’m getting what I paid for.

A shiver went through him. He could think of only one person in his life who had paid for something and not gotten it. And he didn’t intend to ever remedy that either.

He set the phone down just as the message flashed, this time downloading an attachment. He noticed Regan walking over to him just as the picture showed up on the screen.

When he saw the image, he jumped back, and the phone clattered to the floor, where Regan picked it up.

The image on the screen had shaken him. A face he hadn’t seen in too long. Two of them, really. But memories of that woman clouded his vision. Memories of being held down, of fighting back.

But the other face in that picture. He couldn’t ignore it. He could have ignored anything that woman sent him, except that.

Regan went quiet as she looked at the screen, and Bronson snapped out of his shock just long enough to register how it would look to her.

“Wait, Regan, it’s not how it looks!” He reached for her, trying to take his phone back just as his office phone rang.

Her eyes were impossibly wide, and he saw she was ready to explode on him, but he knew that had to be Limes on the line, and he had to answer it.

Because Bronson now had an idea who was after Regan, and if Limes had any way to confirm, any way to find the bastards, he had to go after them right fucking now.

“How can it not be how it looks!” Regan shouted, chucking the phone at him. He caught it as he picked up the office phone, keeping his eyes on her and begging her to wait, to give him a chance to explain.