Page 12 of Omega's Bears

Chapter Seven

The next morning, Jackis up with the dawn, packing up the cave. I blink my way out of a haze of sleep and watch from my hides as he takes down the food that’s strung up on the wall. Neither of the others are anywhere to be seen. I can’t get my mind around what’s happening, but it feels dangerous. Unpleasant.

I’m not sure what to say, though, so I hold my tongue until Jack turns around and notices me watching him. “Good, you’re awake,” he says. “I need your help. Can you start rolling the hides? There are leather straps here to tie them with.”

I get up and move automatically toward him, taking the bundle of leather straps he’s holding in his hand. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Why are we packing everything up?”

“It’s time to leave,” Jack says. “If those wolves found us, others from their pack might be nearby, and we don’t want another fight. We’ll pick up and settle somewhere else, somewhere safer. It won’t be the first time we’ve gone in search of a new home.”

Not the first time for me either, of course, but I’ve grown used to the warmth and comfort of our den, and I don’t particularly want to leave. Still, I know there’s no use arguing with Jack. I turn and begin rolling hides into tight bundles, tying them closed with the leather straps and wondering what the future holds for us.

A motorcycle roars up to the mouth of the cave. The sound is familiar and reminds me powerfully of home, of the way it felt when my whole family started their bikes at once and we took to the highway. It was always just a casual ride with them, a ride for fun. The guys would race each other, weaving in and out to take the lead of the pack, a sort of posturing Leo allowed with good humor. I would let my hair down, riding on the back of someone’s bike, my arms around his waist, enjoying the sensation of speed and giving myself over completely to the trust I had in my clanmates, knowing they wouldn’t let me fall.

Now, I look at Ryan sitting astride his bike in the mouth of the cave and feel a surprising pull toward him. He’s looking right at me, his dark eyes intense, which doesn’t help matters, and I feel myself take a step toward him before I can hold back.

Jack nods. “Cami, you ride with Ryan. I’ll lead, and Luka will chase.”

I’m expecting an argument from Ryan, but he merely nods and jerks his head, indicating that I should join him on the bike. Hesitantly, I make my way over and climb onto the seat behind him. I’m careful as I settle in—I don’t want to put any pressure on his wounded shoulder, which is still heavily wrapped.

Luka roars up beside us. Jack emerges from the cave with our bundled supplies in his arms and begins distributing them. I end up taking the bulk of the food, stuffed into my backpack. When everything is piled onto the three bikes, Jack mounts his own and kicks it into gear, pulling out of the clearing in front of the cave. Ryan follows, and I cling to him tightly.

There is a path that leads to the highway that cuts through these woods, but it’s narrow and somewhat overgrown. It’s not the kind of path that attracts hikers. As we wind our way along it, I can only pray I won’t be unseated and thrown to the ground, a fall which might kill me. Just as the fear is about to overwhelm me, however, we emerge from the tree line and burst forth onto the highway.

And just like that, I’m back at home. Everything about this is familiar. Jack sets a speed that feels normal, fast and confident and wonderful. I press my cheek against Ryan’s back, so I can watch the people in the cars we pass, watch them look at us in shock or amazement or sometimes disapproval, but never, not once, disinterest. The only thing in the world that matches this feeling of sheer freedom is shifting, and I’ve wondered before if maybe that’s what pulls us to be bikers. Maybe we’re addicted to the rush.

But there’s something different about today too. Something about riding with Ryan instead of Berto. The closeness of his body. I can feel his muscles shift and flex under his clothes, and it’s not awkward the way it was when I rode with the old clan. It makes me want to pull closer to him, instead of farther away. It makes me short of breath.

We stop for lunch. I pull food out of my pack and hand it around. Ryan takes his and—predictably—stalks off the road and into the forest. I had hoped the fight with the wolves would be a turning point in our relationship, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen.

Luka watches him go, then turns to Jack. “Should we—?”

“No,” Jack interrupts. “He has to do it.”

“What’s going on?” It’s not unusual for me to feel lost when two of the Hell’s Bears talk in front of me, but I’ve gotten bolder lately about asking to be included.

“She has a right to know,” Luka says.

Do I? I look to Jack. His eyes are closed, and he looks deeply frustrated. “This isn’t our job.”

“She’s family,” Luka says.

My heart swells. This is the first time any of them have called me family. There’s a bitterness to it, of course—I had a family—but I’m pleased to be welcomed, pleased to know that Luka thinks of me this way.

If we are family, though, that means Luka’s right and I do have a right to know what’s going on. It puts me on an even footing with Ryan. I don’t have to tolerate his animosity toward me blindly. If the others know something about what’s causing it, as they certainly seem to, it’s my responsibility to investigate further. If I can find out what Ryan’s problem is, after all, maybe I can help to solve it.

So, I ask the question. “Why doesn’t Ryan like me?”

Jack sighs. “It isn’t that,” he says.

“Then what is it?”

“Have you felt...something strange with Ryan? Something electric? A spark?”

How did he know about that? “Yes,” I admit. “It was like a static charge, but stronger. And...strange. It lasted, even after he left. I can still feel it sometimes.”

“That’s because it wasn’t static,” Jack says. “It was something much more permanent.”

“What do you mean?” His voice is serious, and I feel a chill.

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