Page 8 of Bear Hunt

Frowning, I turn to see Mac slapping the tattooed guy in the back of the head before pointing her finger in his face and scolding him quietly. He doesn’t cower, though, and neither does she when his eyebrow rises and his smile turns feral as he grips her ass cheeks and lifts her. She doesn’t fight him, and he doesn’t fight her when their lips crash together before she taps him on the cheek and unwraps her legs from his waist. They both laugh. Together… happy.

Just like the movies.

I sigh, realizing my attention should be on the hulk of a man beside me. It’s strange how his presence doesn’t feel stifling or uncomfortable. Still super confusing.

“Tow truck’s on the way.” He moves to block the tattooed guy from getting too close as he bounds over.

Is that a…

“Is that a rat on your shoulder?” The question was too important to hold back.

“He isn’t just a rat. Meet Ninja. Cherry’s got his girlfriend, Bandit, over there.” Tattooed guy flicks his head back toward Mac, although I swear he just called her Cherry. “So, your truck’s fucked. But I’m sure my brother Bear here told you that already.” He slapsBear’supper arm before pulling a red sucker from the inner pocket of his riding suit, unwrapping it, and pushing it into his mouth.

The rat—Ninja—nuzzles his neck for a moment before disappearing behind him, into the hood peeking out of his leather jacket. In fact, both men are wearing the same one with just a couple of differences.

I feel like I just received a lot of information and I’m struggling to process it. I always thought rats were dirty, not something that could be a cute pet like Ninja. He called that Mac girl Cherry, and he called the huge guy Bear… and his brother.

Now, I may not have a whole lot of world knowledge, but they have to be adopted brothers or step siblings or something. They’re built completely differently, where Tattooed Guy is clearly well muscled, he doesn’t have anything on Bear, not in height either. And the most obvious indicator that they’re not blood related brothers is their skin color. Tattooed guy is sunkissed and golden, where Bear is like a dark night caressed by the moon. Okay, so he’s not that dark, but something about him is making me feel a little poetic.

Not once have I seen pity or sensed danger in his eyes, and it’s refreshing beyond compare.

Of all the different people—tall, short, wide, thin, Black, white, Asian, male, and female—I’ve encountered at the galas, theparties, the events, and the private visits to my bedroom, none of them have looked at me the way this man does. His eyes tell a whole story I’m not yet privy to.

“The tow’s here.” Mac’s voice cuts through my deer-in-the-headlights moment.

“I’ll go talk to them, brother.” Tattooed Guy chuckles and heads over to the truck that just pulled up, greeting the woman with chin-length blue hair. She’s also covered in tattoos from what I can see, all the way up her neck, and she’s as tall as the other guy.

“You really don’t have to do this. I don’t know if I can even afford to get it towed and fixed.” I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before now, but here we are. And now I’m beginning to panic. My breaths are shorter, my lips downturned like my eyes. “I-I only have fift-fifty dollars an—”

“What did I say about looking at the ground?” It’s not an order, or a scolding. His words come out soft, smooth, like the sweetest of treats. “It’s only gonna cost ten dollars for the new part, and the tow is free. Nothin’ to worry about, Baby Girl.”

I slowly lift my eyes, up and up, until they finally reach his. The smile from before reappears and he rubs his palm across his hairless head, almost like he’s a little bashful, and I think I’m blushing. My cheeks are warmer than I can remember them feeling through natural means.

As if in an instant, his kind eyes turn dark and it looks as though he’s holding himself back from reaching out.

“Who hurt you? Where did you get that bruise on your cheek?”

I’m momentarily stunned into stillness, trying to figure out if his anger is directed at me or for me. I don’t want to answer him, but I do at the same time. I can’t though, it’s not safe.

“I walked into a door about a week ago.” Pulling all my reserves from the pit of my stomach, I do what I’ve been trainedto do; I smile, feign a laugh, and shrug. “It was my own fault, really.”

“Hmm.” His response is the deepest growl, it would rival a lion, and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe me but he doesn’t call me out on my blatant lie.

“Grabbed a new one for you, Bear.” The blue-haired woman approaches holding out a black motorcycle helmet.

“Appreciate it, Kincaid.” He takes it from her with a nod of thanks and the respect these people have for each other is like nothing I’ve ever seen in real life.

Blue—Kincaid—nods back, her eyes flicking over me briefly before she gives me a respectful head tilt too. I don’t know what I’ve done to earn it, but it felt kinda good.

But what if all these people are planning something awful? In my experience, appearances are without a doubt deceiving. The kindness they’re showing me could all be a big ruse, but what could they possibly want from me? I’m not young and beautiful anymore… never really was.

I have no money to give them, no possessions, and none of them have even tried to touch me since Mac nudged my arm. It’s almost as if they know things.

They can’t.

“They’re gonna take your truck to the shop and I’m gonna take you home.” He holds out the motorcycle helmet for me.

“You can’t take me home. I’m not going home. And I can’t go on that thing. I can find my way. I’ll buy a map an—”

---