Page 41 of Bear Hunt

That’s it. As soon as I learn who this motherfucker is, I’m going after him. With or without the club. He’s gonna rot in his own shit then he’s gonna die in it.

“Well, shows how ignoranthewas, doesn’t it? We may not know each other very well, but you’ll learn that I’m a man with a one track mind and, baby, you’re my track.”

Pressing her lips together, I can tell she’s stifling a laugh, and this time, when she scoots back to rise to her feet, I give her the space to do so.

Crossing her arms over her belly, she curls her fingers around the hem of her long-sleeved T-shirt and hesitates for only a second before winning an inner battle with herself. Then she turns and, as if she’s ripping off a Band-Aid, pulls her shirt off and lets her arms fall to her sides.

The scene in front of me is like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before. Spanning her entire back are scars of various lengths, some more puffy than others, like they haven’t healed properly. I may have only been in college for a couple of years studying biology, but I know that a few of these scars needed stitches that she definitely did not get.

My eyes lock on one particular scar that looks almost fresh and I’m guessing she escaped soon after that. Then I realize there are burn marks, small and round, mostly likely from the tip of a lit cigarette, and I don’t know why that’s the sight that makes my blood suddenly boil to the point of making me lose my fucking sanity.

“Are you disgusted? I’d understand, you know?”

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I’m careful when I answer her whispered question.

“Baby Girl, ain’t nothin’ about you that disgusts me. But I’m gonna have to come clean here and tell you that I’m going to kill whoever did this to you, hear me?” She doesn’t move but I sense her body relax just a bit. Just enough for me to have the courage to touch her without setting this world on fire. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

She nods but I ain’t having that. “Words, Baby Girl. You and me, we use our words, okay?”

“Yes. Please find the chip so we can move on from this.” That’s my strong, brave woman. My future old lady. “I try to not look back there so I have no idea where it would be. If it’s even on my back.” I nod, even though she can’t see me, because she’s right, it could be anywhere. But the logical part of my brain really thinks it’s back here because it’s the one place she wouldn’t be able to touch herself and find it by accident.

Placing both of my hands on her skin, I knead my way up her back, pressing my fingertips as I go trying to feel for anyanomalies. Well, besides the ton of scar tissue she’s got that shouldn’t be here.

When she takes her brown hair in her hand and pulls it over her shoulder, our eyes lock and I feel an entire conversation take place between us.

“I’m in awe of you, Baby Girl.”

“There’s nothing special about me. I’m just trying to live on my own terms.” And that, right there, is the definition of a survivor.

Just as I reach the top of her shoulders and slide toward her neck, my index finger bumps against a tiny square, hard and unmovable. It’s different from the rest of the anomalies on her back, telling me we’ve found it.

“Got it.” Her body relaxes at the same moment as the sounds of bikes pulling up and the rambunctious laughter of my brothers practically make the house shake.

“Here, put your shirt back on.” Quickly, she covers herself seconds before Grinder barges in and announces their arrival in a way only Grinder could.

“Bow down, motherfuckers, your savior is here.”

“Oh my fecking God, Grinder. Move out of the way, you weirdo.” Mac pushes past him and eases the blow by sending him air kisses.

“I swear, this new generation has lost all respect for their elders.” Grinder, along with Boner and Bash, fill up my living room as they place their helmets and leather jackets on whatever surfaces they can find, transforming it from the perfectly put together home to a bachelor pad in mere seconds.

“You got any eggnog around here?” I don’t have time to answer Grinder before his head is already inside my fridge, but it only takes him seconds to realize there ain’t nothing in there. “What the fuck, dude? How are we expected to perform surgery without anything to eat?” Jesus Christ, this guy is something else.

“Brother, you’re not doing shit except sitting and watching.” Shade, in all his tall, broody, glory, is suddenly in my living room, his tattoo travel bag in one hand, while the other carefully places his helmet on my kitchen table. “Mac’s gonna take it out and I’ll disinfect, clean it up real nice before she sews it back up.”

Ever since Prez was killed, Shade has been a little withdrawn. We all got hit with hard core grief but their bond was as tight as me and Psycho so his pain was that much deeper. The fact he’s here and not at Vanessa’s side means a fuckload to me.

“Thanks, brother. I appreciate you.” I stand and he walks over to me, our hands clasping as we lean in for a side hug.

“I got you, Bear. We take care of our own, right?”

“Fucking right.” The bonding between us ends there as Mac barrels over with her equipment, gloves pulled over her hands and a mask on her face. “Damn girl, you went all out.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want Athena to get an infection.” I can’t see her mouth but I see both her eyebrows shoot up, which only makes my grin widen. This woman cannot, for the life of her, raise one brow. It’s fucking hilarious but she gets points for trying, that’s for sure.

“Damn straight, I don’t.”

“Yeah, me either.” Athena says, taking a rubber band from around her wrist, and with a move that seems like witch work, does a loopy loop thing. In seconds, her hair is up in a messy bun that only makes her look sexier than before.

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