Page 7 of Bear Hunt

“Hey, you doin’ okay? Need some help?” The deepest voice I’ve ever heard makes me freeze on the spot.

It comes from behind me and I could kick myself for not being more aware of my surroundings—part of my training was to be aware of everything around me so that I could anticipate the needs of others.

“I’m fine.” I applaud myself internally for keeping my voice steady, but I don’t turn around.

Keeping my arms firmly on the hood of the truck, I concentrate on steadying my breaths while trying not to breathe in too much of the white smoke at the same time. It takes everything in me not to run away when a looming presence takes all the pressure off, holding up the hood higher than I was able. I do step back though, so I’m not easily within arm’s reach.

“Looks like the coolant is leaking. You might need a new head gasket, but I couldn’t say for sure without really getting in there.”

The man’s voice is like soft velvet, and now that I’m at a safe distance away from him, I dare to look up at his face. His eyes are a breathtakingly deep, rich brown, so dark his pupils almost blend. He has a thick black beard with tight curls that surrounds full lips, currently curved up into a small smile aimed in my direction and it confuses the hell out of me.

“I’ll call a tow truck for you and we’ll get it fixed up. Do you have somewhere we can take you to wait? It could be a few days.” Where I was using both arms to hold up the hood, this man is only using one of his very large, thick, leather-covered arms. He should intimidate me way more than he does, and the fact that he doesn’t scares me.

I can’t let my guard down for a kind face though… because inevitably, it won’t stay kind for long. They never do.

“I’m fine.” Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around myself.

I’ll figure this out without the help. The GPS said I was only about twenty-five minutes from my destination…

“You said that already, Baby Girl.”

Woah, the way he smiles, flashing his straight white teeth… it makes his dark eyes crinkle a little and his whole face light up. He’s not treating me with the kid gloves I’ve experienced so far; he’s not looking at me and seeing the weak shell that I am.

It’s… I don’t know.

I can’t describe the way he makes me feel because I’m conflicted. Everything about him screams dangerous—everything I’ve ever known is dangerous—but the natural urge to defend myself just isn’t there.

I’m completely ignoring the baby girl comment, mainly because I don’t know how to respond right now. My training would have me batting my lashes with a smile, ready to obey the next order given, but this man doesn’t make me feel like I have to do that. It’s a little disarming and I’m struggling with how to present myself here.

I have never come across someone who oozes this much power and safety all at once, but the only logical explanation for him being kind to me is that he thinks I’ll do whatever he wants.

“Okay.” I don’t know what he’s saying okay to, but he slams down the hood of the truck. Well, he closes it gently if I’m being exact, then he winks and pulls out his phone.

The slathering look that usually accompanies a wink isn’t there… this man just keeps surprising me. Or more like, I think I’m surprising myself because I’ve interacted with people since I escaped, and I wanted to get away from each and every one of them within seconds, but not him.

Two people I hadn’t even noticed before now approach, and I realize they must have been riding those motorcycles I heard when I was looking at the engine. There’s really nothing I could have done, so I don’t know why I was bothering to look, but it felt like the right thing to do. If something had seemed out of place, I may have been able to figure it out.

On instinct, I take a step back from the man with tattoos on his face. Not because of the ink, but because of the confident way he comes over and shoulder checks the larger man, who is now on the phone. Nowthisman makes me wary.

“Hey, don’t mind them. They’re harmless. My name’s Mac.” The blonde woman who was on the other bike looks a lot younger than me, but her eyes are full of a life lived. She holds out her palm for me to shake, but I can’t bring myself to take it.

Forcing a smile, I debate giving her my real name, but I don’t know these people.

“Amy.” One of my favorite characters from thePitch PerfectDVD I watched a million times. She gave zero shits about what people thought and always went for what she wanted.

That’s what I’m trying to do.

“Nice to meet you, Amy.” Mac lowers her palm when she realizes I don’t plan on shaking it and moves to stand beside me.“Don’t worry. The club’s mechanics are the best in town. They’ll get you back on the road in no time.” She gently nudges my arm with her elbow and this time, I can’t help the very obvious flinch. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

I lower my eyes and shake my head. “No. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anyone you can call to take you home?” She seems genuinely concerned and I’m positive that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone apologize to me. Except my mother, but that was fourteen years ago.

“No!” I immediately step back and move my arms up and cross my wrists over my chest, clenching my fists and resting my chin on them to protect my neck. I shouldn’t have just snapped at this woman. But that’s how they get you. They pretend they’re the good, kind one, then they turn out twice as bad as the men.

“Hey, eyes up, Baby Girl. There ain’t nothin’ on the ground worth looking at.” His shadow appears next to mine as he approaches from my other side. He doesn’t get too close, keeping a safe distance away, and his palms are up by his large shoulders when I eventually lift my gaze. “There we are. Beautiful.” He grins, and I almost can’t remember what I was afraid of.

“Bear’s in love again!”

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