Page 47 of Captive of Outlaws

“Bears?” Will says.

“There shouldn’t be bears,” Rob says.

“What did it look like?” Tuck asks.

I shake my head, accepting the cup of coffee that Tuck offers and deciding to answer him first.

“I don’t know...like a bear? I wake up in the middle of the night, and go to my window, and I see it, like...sprinting, if that’s possible. Can bears sprint?” I rub my temples. “It looked absolutely huge. I guess a brown bear or a black bear. It was kind of between colors. I don’t even know what’s native to this area.” I’m babbling, so I bring my coffee mug to my mouth to shut myself up. “Anyway, it kind of spooked me. I didn’t realize they come this close to where humans live.”

“They don’t,” Will says. “Not usually anyway.” He grinds his teeth.

“Well, then, maybe it has rabies or something,” I mutter, and look at Rob. “All I’m saying is maybe you should keep your crossbow loaded and up in the house just in case.”

Now it’s Rob’s turn to laugh, although it’s a little less gleeful sounding than Tuck’s.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says slowly. “But don’t go wandering around at night, okay, Maren? I wouldn’t want you to have any dangerous encounters.”

“Yeah,” Tuck puts in. “Wildlife should know better than to just freely roam around our house like that.” I look from him to Rob to Will, feeling like I’m missing some inside joke. Maybe it’s something to do with hunting, a pastime I’ve never taken up—too many bad experiences associated with the Fox Hunt Club, I suppose.

I try to change the subject.

“No LJ this morning?”

The three of them once again exchange a look.

“He was out late,” Rob says. “It sounds like, anyway.”

“Probably sleeping it off,” Will adds.

I suck in my teeth. “So he’s a big partier?”

“Not exactly,” Rob says after the other guys look at him for a while. “But I guess you could say he’s nocturnal. Excuse me,” he says abruptly. “I need to go make a phone call.” He scoots back from the table and strides out with purposeful, loud steps. Okay, well, maybe he’s not a morning person. I mentally chalk it up to a bad mood and sip my coffee. The caffeine is taking the edge off my wildlife-induced sleep deprivation.

“Breakfast, Maren?” Tuck offers. I shake my head.

“Just coffee for now,” I say. “But thanks.”

“How are the cars looking?” Will asks. “Get in a full day of work yesterday?”

I stretch my neck to the left, then to the right. “And then some,” I say. “I haven’t worked that hard in, well...don’t tell my old boss, but probably ever.”

Will chuckles. “So they’re not beyond saving, then?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean, they definitely all need a tune-up. Got some bald tires in there, low oil, but nothing like rust. Rust is cancer. If I’d seen that, I would have done their last rites.”

Tuck laughs at that too. “How’d you get so interested in cars anyway?”

I shrug. “I like seeing how things work, like doing stuff with my hands. And my dad was a car guy, so I don’t know. I guess I’m just genetically predisposed, something in my blood. I feel like it makes me the best version of myself, you know?” I hadn’t really realized that was true until I said it out loud.

Will nods. “I admire someone who values practical skills.”

Tuck snorts. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Never-Gets-His-Hands-Dirty.”

Will shoots Tuck a look. “I just know when I’m not the best man for the job,” he says. “I prefer to leave some things to the professionals.” He flicks a speck of dust off the knee of his trousers. “So I admire Maren for what she does.”

“Me too,” Tuck says. “Especially considering your parents—”

Something on the back of my neck prickles. “What about them?” I say.

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