A Lion Shame (Bear Creek Grizzlies Book 3) (7 page)

S
J felt exhausted even
though she'd hardly done anything other than watch Tate search the car, and then sat at Rosie's table and tried to remember details about the past few months. Luckily Dakota woke up from her nap cheerful and toddled around the living room entertaining herself with some of her toys, and let SJ clean Rosie's apartment without much distraction. Rosie stayed downstairs in the bar, getting ready for the rush of people for happy hour, but occasionally called upstairs to see how SJ and the baby were doing. Tate headed out to do whatever it was he was going to do in order to help her get rid of Chuck, and she missed his quiet presence at the table.

SJ vacuumed the same spot over and over as her mind wandered, going over everything Tate asked about to see whether she'd missed anything important. She eventually moved on but ended up frowning out the window. It felt like a storm gathered in her life, just like the one gathering on the horizon. Somewhere, Chuck searched for her and the car. Or maybe he was already dead and his associates searched for her instead. She didn't know which was worse.

She took a deep breath and put away the vacuum, checking Dakota's diaper before scrubbing down the kitchen. She almost missed her cell phone ringing, and ran to the living room to answer, expecting Rosie on the other end. She fumbled with soapy hands and managed to make a face at Dakota as she answered, "Hello?"

"Don't you dare hang up."

She froze. Chuck. Her stomach dropped and her knees weakened, and she had to hold onto the couch as she sat. She couldn't speak, the words backing up in her throat until she knew she'd throw up if she even opened her mouth.

He didn't wait long before going on. Chuck spoke low and fast, and a hint of fear threaded through his voice. She knew him well enough to know he was scared. Furious and scared, which was a terrible combination. "I don't know what the fuck got into you, but you made a huge mistake. I want my car back. All of it. Or you're fucking dead. We're all dead."

"You can have it." She almost choked on the words, wishing Rosie was there with her, but SJ took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I don't want it."

"That's the first smart thing you've done since I met you." Chuck made an ugly sound, something like a laugh, and SJ gritted her teeth. She was done with his insults. Done with him putting her down and acting like having a heart was a weakness. He went on when she didn't react, sounding even uglier with each word he spoke. "This is what you're going to do. And if you fuck this up, your kid is going to pay the price. Got it? Get the car, drive it east to Sage Hills, and park it at the diner on the west side of town. Leave it there."

SJ stared without seeing as Dakota threw her blocks across the room, and tried to process what he said. "Then how will I leave, if the car stays there?"

"That's not my problem. You're the one who stole the car. Get a fucking cab, I don't care." The sound of an engine starting in the background almost hid the rest of his words. "I'll know when you're there. Park it exactly where I told you and get the fuck out of town before I decide to kick your ass for stealing from me."

SJ looked around the apartment, shaking her head as she spotted Dakota heading for a stack of books to topple over. "It'll have to be tomorrow; I have —"

"Now. Leave now. If you take one more minute, I'll find you and you'll regret it. And so will that kid. Little blue-eyed babies fetch a high price in certain markets, you hear me? So get your shit, get in the car, and start driving. If you bring anyone else, you'll both get a bullet. Got it?"

He hung up. SJ's heart pounded as she stared at the phone. She wanted to ignore him, to just call Tate and have him handle it, but there was no telling what Chuck actually planned to do. Tate didn't deserve to pay the price for her actions. She'd taken the car, she had to return it. And she absolutely had to protect Dakota. At least Rosie could look after her, if anything happened to SJ.

She picked the baby up and snuggled her, taking a deep breath from her hair to memorize the way she smelled. Dakota had been the only good thing in her life for a long, long time. She was a good baby. SJ's whole world in one cuddly bundle. Tears burned SJ's eyes but she swallowed them back and got her bag and wallet and keys. She could drive the car to the next town and get back quickly. It wasn't that far and it wouldn't take long.

SJ carried Dakota downstairs and found Rosie in the storeroom. "Can you do me a favor, Rosie, and watch Dakota for a little while? I want to run to the store and pick up a few things for dinner. I know you're busy in the bar, but —"

"Not a problem," Rosie said, smiling as she held her hands out to Dakota. "This little peanut can help me keep everyone in line. And there's only two people here anyway. You sure you're okay, though? You still look a little shaky."

SJ smiled and tried to hide how tightly she gripped the keys in her pocket. "Yeah, it's just a short trip. And I think some fresh air will do me some good."

"Call if you need anything," Rosie said, and carried Dakota into the bar while SJ stayed in the storeroom in the back.

She waited only a few seconds to make sure Rosie wouldn't see which way she turned, then SJ headed out into the cold. Clouds built up on the horizon, darkening the early afternoon sky more than normal, and she pulled her coat tighter as she headed for where the car was parked behind the garage. They hadn't wanted to leave it on the street where anyone could get to it, but that meant it was out of sight in the empty lot behind the mechanic's property. SJ glanced over her shoulder to scan the street, searching for anyone suspicious, but no one else dared the cold and pending snow.

SJ exhaled when she saw the car, for a second worrying that maybe it was already gone, and hurried toward it, wanting to get out of the wind. She could call a cab company to meet her at the town Chuck mentioned when she was on the way and knew how long it would take her to get there. Easy. It would all be easy and she'd be home in time to make dinner for Dakota and to give Rosie a break in the bar.

She unlocked the driver's side door and yanked at it, the metal almost frozen shut. Maybe she could convince Rosie to move some place warmer. SJ gritted her teeth and tried again, ready to break the window, but froze as something cold pressed against the back of her neck and a hand caught her wrist. Pried away the keys.

Chuck growled in her ear, "I didn't really think you were this stupid."

SJ closed her eyes, heart sinking.

T
ate's head
spun for an hour after he left Rosie's apartment and Sarah Jane, the lion irrationally angry about abandoning their mate when she was in danger. Even though he had work to do for Simon's business, ferrying a few tourists from the Lodge back to town, he didn't want to leave. But anger boiled in his guts, a slow burn that made him kick the truck door and hit the radio hard enough to break something. It wasn't fair. The universe was a cruel son of a bitch, and he hated it. Hated it.

He drove too fast, the truck skidding on the icy roads as a blizzard kicked up in the distance. He hated winter. He really hated snow. Tate got almost halfway to the Lodge, just to the foot of the mountains, when dread swept over him. He'd been on the phone with Zoe, listening to her account of the latest pregnancy news and something about heartburn and a new kitten, when Tate froze up. He clutched the steering wheel and stomped on the brakes, almost sending the truck off the switchback.

He stared straight ahead, trying to breathe normally as he listened to the lion yowl.

Zoe's voice crackled through the phone, the connection crappy as always near the Lodge. "Tate? Are you there? What's wrong?"

Sarah Jane. There was something wrong with Sarah Jane. She was afraid. It hit him like a bolt of lightning. That bastard had had enough time to find her, to track her down. Tate growled and threw the truck in reverse, careening back toward Bear Creek. He was too far away to protect her. Too far away to help her. He said, "I'm not going to get the group tonight," and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, ignoring Zoe's startled questions, and kept both hands on the wheel.

He hadn't used his combat driving skills in a while, and the Range Rover wasn't nearly as responsive as some of the vehicles he'd driven, but fear was a great motivator. He floored the gas and leaned forward, praying for the first time in a very long time. All of his thoughts focused on Sarah Jane. He was still too far away when he fished for the cell phone, managing to dial Rosie's number without taking his eyes off the road too much — although he almost drove into the ditch again. It took forever until Rosie answered and Tate yelled over the background noise the bar. "Something's wrong. Something's wrong with Sarah Jane."

"She went to the store," Rosie said, shouting back to be heard over the hubbub. "I've got Dakota; she should be back any minute."

"There's something wrong," he said, but the connection cut off and the phone went dead. No service, no battery. He growled and smashed his fist against the steering wheel. Still too far away, and enraged that he'd lost control of his own life.

"
D
on't
— " SJ started, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Don't open your fucking mouth." He shoved her against the freezing car, his body a wall behind her, and tugged at the rear door handle. "You fucking idiot. If I knew where the car was, why the fuck would I bother having you drive it somewhere? I just wanted to get you alone outside, and you trotted right out here like a good girl. So fucking stupid. You're going to pay for this. I told you never to run from me. What exactly didn't you understand about that?"

"I don't want to be with you," SJ said. "I left. Take the car — that's what you want. You don't want me."

"No, I don't." His hand crushed her wrist and SJ elbowed him, starting to fight as the back door finally opened. She wasn't going anywhere with him. Ever. But Chuck used the gun at the back of her neck, and a fist in her side, to force her toward the back of the car. "But no one else gets you, either. You know too much about my business. Just go along like a good girl, and this will all be over soon."

SJ couldn't breathe after he hit her, the air too freezing and heavy for her to inhale, but she braced her feet on the side of the car and shoved backwards, flailing. Enough.

She'd put up with enough. And Dakota needed her. Dakota needed her mother.

SJ shouted, her feet sliding in the snow, and ducked as Chuck swung the gun at her, trying to knock her out. She fought but he was too strong, throwing her against the side of the car until she crumpled to the ground. SJ stared up at him, struggling to keep her thoughts together, but Chuck's lip curled in an ugly sneer. "Stupid. So fucking stupid."

"I hate you," she said. SJ gritted her teeth and tried to get up. She had to fight. "I don't want anything to do with you. Take your fucking car and get out of here."

He laughed and leaned back, the gun shining dully in his hand. "So this is going to be easier than I thought."

SJ sucked in a breath and tried to scream, but just as she opened her mouth, a shadow moved and Chuck disappeared. He disappeared. Silent, no scream, no yelling. Just a brown-gray streak and then the snow started to fall in soft white flakes. She sat up and stared as what looked like a cougar crouched over Chuck and dragged him across the yard.

For a split second, she wondered if she should save Chuck or try to chase the cougar away, but she couldn't get her legs to move as she watched, the snow slowly soaking into her jeans. He deserved to be mauled to death by a wild animal. It seemed a fitting end for such a terrible person.

H
e rolled
the Range Rover outside of town and flew through the crumpled open door on the passenger side, landing hard enough he just lay there for a few seconds. But he got up, holding his arm and his separated shoulder. Son of a bitch. He was too old for shit like that, and he sure as hell didn't have the money for a new truck. Just wonderful. Just fucking wonderful. Everything hurt.

But it didn't distract the lion from Sarah Jane. She needed him. Any amount of pain was worth it, if he could save her. And he was still a mile away from town, too far to run with blood trickling from a cut on his forehead and a twinge in his ankle that meant something had probably broken.

Tate limped back to the road, but knew he wouldn't make it as a human. It took three steps and the lion raged free, took control, and bolted toward town. The speedy shifter healing helped a little, but he still didn't feel at his best as his paws beat the ground and the sharp air teased his throat. He ran until his muscles screamed and his lungs nearly collapsed, and it still wasn't fast enough.

Tate skidded around the back of the town, avoiding the main street in case some of the humans were out and about as the snow started falling. Most people in Bear Creek knew about shifters, but there were a lot of wild mountain lions in the area, and he didn't want to get shot. Tate paused to sniff the air, trying to track down Sarah Jane, and froze as he caught a hint of her scent, made stronger by fear. Terror. And adrenaline. A fight.

He growled and raced toward the direction where her scent was strongest, closer to the garage, and dodged one of the guard dogs the mechanic used to keep kids out of the junkyard. Tate's paws slid in the fresh snow but his heart leapt when he saw Sarah Jane leaning against the shitty sedan. And a big figure loomed over her, rank with the scent of fear and sweat and rage — and a hint of metal, of guns. He recognized that scent, too.

The man threatened his mate. The lion didn't think twice. He launched at them both and planted his paws in the asshole's shoulders, knocking him away from Sarah Jane. The man grunted and cursed, the gun flying out of his hand, as Tate rolled him into the rough ground and snow and bits of metal. Tate sank his teeth into the guy and dragged him away from Sarah Jane, for the first time wishing he was a bear so he could have just flung the bastard over the fence and been done with it.

But he raked his claws across the asshole's face and chest and reveled in the blood that welled up. Tate kept an ear flicked in Sarah Jane's direction, listening to her ragged breathing and the soft way she whispered to herself about getting up, running, fighting. Something about how it couldn't have been a mountain lion. He wanted to groan but couldn't afford to spare the breath.

He was just deciding what to do next — whether to shift back to human and risk scaring the hell out of Sarah Jane, or waiting for someone to show up and take care of the guy he sat on — when another tall figure sauntered out of the shadows.

Tate braced for a confrontation, growling as he dug his claws into the groaning body that had attacked Sarah Jane, and the newcomer moved into the soft glow of a flickering security light, the snow swirling up in a hazy cloud. The sheriff raised his eyebrows as he looked at Tate, and after a long moment, the sheriff walked closer to examine what exactly he was doing. "So this is the reason Rosie called me in a panic, I'm guessing?"

Tate growled, not wanting to release the bastard who'd attacked Sarah Jane, but the sheriff glanced back at where she sat, silent, in the snow, and the wolf dropped his voice. "I can handle locking this guy up, but that young lady needs a friendly face and a steady arm to help her back to Rosie's, so why don't you do that before I get distracted by how lovely she is?"

Which only made the lion snarl more, that the wolf might be interested in his mate. She belonged with Tate. And she was still terrified and confused. The lion retreated until Tate moved off the guy and shifted back to human, naked and furious in the snow. The sheriff shook his head and tossed Tate a balled up set of sweats. "Rosie thought you might need these. Hide your shame, boy."

Some day, Tate would deck the sheriff. He just knew it. He still snarled a little, even in human form, as he pulled on the clothes and tried to ignore how his feet slid in the snow and blood left behind by the whimpering piece of shit who'd attacked Sarah Jane. Tate tried to keep his voice from lisping too much as his teeth realigned from a cougar's fangs. "He attacked her. Stood over her with a gun. I don't know where it went."

"That's fine. I'll find it." The sheriff, Wyatt, bent and hauled the guy up, handcuffing him before starting to pat him down. He pulled out a radio and called for a couple of his guys to get out there and get the security tapes from the mechanic, then nodded at where Sarah Jane leaned against the car and stared at them both. "You've got some explaining to do, son."

"I'm the same age as you, asshole," Tate said under his breath, and the sheriff snorted. Tate steeled his courage and managed to find a grudging, "But thank you for helping Sarah Jane."

He'd never admit the sheriff helped him, no way in hell. Wyatt let it pass, starting to read the guy his rights despite the attacker being only half-conscious and bleeding from a mauling. Tate limped over to where Sarah Jane sat and slowly reached for her arm. "Let's get you inside."

She stared at him, almost unseeing or maybe just not believing, and pulled away from where he touched her. "What the hell is going on?"

He didn't really know how to answer that. "We should talk about that inside, where it's warmer."

"Where did you come from?" Sarah Jane wobbled as she pushed to her feet, using the car instead of his hand to help her gain her balance, and she shivered as she watched the sheriff finish searching the guy who'd attacked her. "How did you know — wasn't there a cougar or something? Who is that?"

"The sheriff," Tate said, irritation putting an edge on his words. Irritation at Wyatt, not at her, since the sheriff chuckled and winked when Tate scowled at him. Tate took a deep breath and kept a respectful distance as he gestured at the main street. "He'll probably have questions for you about who that guy is, but that can wait a bit until the snow passes through. Rosie's worried about you."

"Rosie," Sarah Jane said, frowning. Then her eyes widened and she practically pushed him out of the way so she could head for the street. "Dakota. He didn't get Dakota, did he? Oh my God."

He kept up despite the lingering pain in his shoulder and the numb agony of his feet, and guided her to the back entrance of the bar. Rosie paced near the door, gnawing at her thumbnail, and threw her arms around Sarah Jane as soon as they walked in. Tate hung back, waiting until Sarah Jane had a chance to blurt out most of the story — the call from her ex-boyfriend, the threats, the plan to drive the car to the next town over, and then the ambush behind the mechanic. He almost stormed back out into the dark street to haul that bastard Chuck away from the sheriff and tear him apart.

And then Sarah Jane said something about a cougar jumping out of nowhere and dragging Chuck away, and both of them looked at him. Tate raised his eyebrows, waiting, and Rosie started to nod, though her eyes flashed. She must have realized what a close call it had been, if Tate shifted to save her, and he hoped Rosie, at least, understood. And maybe Rosie started to wonder why Tate would risk exposing his shifter side to save a woman he'd only known a few days. He wanted to growl in irritation, since he didn't want Rosie getting ideas about a happily-ever-after for he and Sarah Jane.

Sarah Jane shook her head, gaze disbelieving. "And then Tate was there."

"Yes, thank God for Tate." Rosie didn't sound particularly thankful, though.

"I still don't understand the cougar," Sarah Jane said. "It was almost like — like Tate was the cougar. Like he somehow..." She laughed, sounding a little wobbly as she shook her head. "But that's ridiculous."

When neither Rosie nor Tate said anything, Sarah Jane's eyes widened and she started to look a little panicked. "That's ridiculous. People don't turn into animals."

Rosie took a deep breath and hugged her tightly, squeezing her close. "I love you, darlin'. I'm going to watch Dakota for you tonight. Why don't you go talk with Tate?"

Sarah Jane attempted a smile, though she didn't entirely succeed. "What do I need to talk to Tate about? I'd really rather just get Dakota and go to bed, Rosie, I —"

"Yeah, Rosie," Tate said, trying to give the bartender a look to communicate just how much he didn't want to explain to Sarah Jane that shifters existed and he was one of them. "It's been a tough night already."

Rosie glared daggers at him as she squeezed Sarah Jane one more time and carefully shooed her toward the door. "I think it's very important that the two of you have a conversation about where that mountain lion came from, and why Tate crashed his truck trying to get back here to help you."

Sarah Jane stared at him. "You crashed your truck? But how did — how did you know where I was? That something was wrong?"

Tate had never hit a woman in his life, but it was tempting to shake Rosie a little for forcing a conversation he really didn't want to have. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath — like Zoe told him to do — and looked around for a pair of work boots to borrow. "There's a couple ways to look at it, and I'd rather not be wearing sweatpants when we talk about it, if that's okay?"

She eyed him, but hugged herself and checked on the sleeping baby before she nodded at the door. "Then let's talk."

Tate mashed his feet into a pair of too-small rubber boots near the door and held it open for Sarah Jane. "Okay."

The walk back to his apartment felt like it took years, thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to figure out how to explain everything to her. And how to explain the wrecked truck to Simon and Zoe. Tate winced and rubbed his forehead, leaning into the wind as the blizzard really started to kick up. Just his luck, he'd end up snowed in with Sarah Jane and have to talk more in one night than he had in the last three years.