Loaded: A Bad Boy Romance (32 page)

L
eah had never
experienced anything like being on a motorcycle before. It was terrifying and exhilarating, all at once. The closest she’d ever come had been the time that her cousin gave her a ride in the back of a pickup truck once, when she was a kid, only for both of them to get chewed out by her father not long after.

She laughed until her ribs hurt out of nothing but exuberance, watching the dark scenery fly by. Nathan took the back roads, careful not to let anyone see them together.

Finally, he pulled into a small turnout from the main road and pulled his helmet off. He helped Leah with hers, kissing her as he did, like he simply couldn’t help himself.

Leah felt almost delirious with the double thrill of happiness and anxiety, knowing she was doing exactly what she wanted to be doing, and also understanding the consequences of it. Even so, she felt lighter and better, just being there with Nathan.

He took her by the hand and led her down a path, crowded with bushes and trees, holding back the branches for her as she walked behind him, letting him lead the way.

A few minutes later, she could see the Pinnacles, just as promised: big spears of granite, sticking up toward the sky.

“Is that them?” she asked, excitedly.

“Yep,” said Nathan, tugging at her hand. He was so excited, he almost seemed like a kid, and she could tell that he wasn’t like this, normally. When the people of Fjords talked about Nathan Kamchatka, they tended to lower their voices and hunch their shoulders, like they didn’t want to be heard, but Leah didn’t know why.

They obviously hadn’t seen the real Nathan, the sweet, sexy guy who brought an extra helmet and wanted to show her the stars.

Finally, they broke through the trees and into a clearing where there was a big, flat rock surrounded by the Pinnacles themselves, big gray rocks pointing at heaven.

“This is incredible,” Leah breathed, her neck craned up.

“Come into the middle,” Nathan said, still leading her. Now he was behind her, his hands on her waist over her simple, almost-frumpy dress.

She looked up.

“There it is,” she said, pointing at the Milky Way. “You really can see it.”

“You can’t in Yukon City?” he asked.

“Not as well,” Leah said. “I guess I never really look, to be honest.”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and Leah felt herself relax into his embrace, almost like she’d done it a thousand times before.

It just felt so familiar and right. Even though she knew that what she was doing was wrong, it didn’t
feel
wrong.

It
felt
exactly right.

“Do they tell the legend of the North Star in Yukon City?” he asked.

Leah could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, against the back of her neck. She’d never felt so warm or so safe in her life.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked.

“If you’re telling it.”

“Once upon a time,” Nathan said, “there were two bears, mates, and they lived on the island off the eastern coast of Siberia, north of Japan.”

His hand found hers, still holding her tight, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“They were together every day, all day, hunting and fishing, and they were so in love that the sea got jealous of them, so jealous that she couldn’t stand it.”

Leah had never heard this particular story before, but it had the elements she was familiar with: the distant past where shifters had just been bears, the forces of nature with human feelings.

“Was the sea in love with the male bear?”

“Maybe,” Nathan said. Leah could hear the smile in his voice. “But whatever the reason, maybe because the sea was in love with him or because there is only one sea and she’ll be lonely forever, the sea stole his mate away from him.”

Leah went silent, holding her breath.

“Even though he swam and swam after her, the sea was greater and it took her away from him. After hours, he swam back to shore, wet and bedraggled and heartbroken. When he was back, he tore down the trees on the shore, he tore the forests away from the mountains and he was so angry that his anger infected the earth, made it spew forth lava until the beautiful place they’d lived was ugly and scarred with fire.”

Leah turned her cheek to nestle again Nathan’s hard chest, the better to feel his voice.

“So he lived on worms and berries and fish, too heartbroken to care that he’d destroyed everything they loved, until one day a raven came to him and said that he knew where the bear’s mate was.”

“Where?”

“I’m
getting
there. The raven wanted to make a deal, though. The raven had always been afraid of bears, and he wanted the bear to give up some of his power. So the raven said that he’d tell the bear where his mate was if he agreed to spend some of his time utterly defenseless, without claws or teeth or fur.”

Nathan pulled Leah even closer. She felt like they were breathing as one.

“The bear agreed right away. ‘She’s east’, the raven said. ‘You have to follow the coast and then, when you get to the great ice bridge, keep the North Star on your left, and follow the coast back down.’ So that’s what the bear did. In those days, the land still connected Siberia and North America, so he spent months walking, hunting his food, sometimes starving, always staying away from the jealous sea who wanted to keep them apart. As long as he kept the North Star on his left, he knew, he’d find his mate.”

“Did he?”

“As soon as he got close he could feel her in his bones, and he wandered the coast, howling for her until, at least, a naked woman stepped out of a cave in front of him. The raven had stripped her of her defenses, too, and when the bear saw her he became human as well.”

He placed a kiss on the top of Leah’s head.

“And that’s how shifters became human.”

There was a brief pause, where neither of them said anything, just basking in the glow of the moment.

“It’s also why we don’t go swimming much,” he said, and Leah laughed out loud.

“I’ve never heard that story,” she said. “Our’s is about kidnapping and the soul getting split into two.”

She turned around in his arms, looking up at him.

“Do you believe the stories?” he asked.

Leah bit her lip. She wanted to believe the stories, sure, but she didn’t know what she believed anymore. After all, so much of what she’d thought until recently was just
wrong
, and yet she had to abide by it.

Really, she shouldn’t even be here alone with Nathan. She’d sneaked out, directly disobeying her father’s orders. Betraying her future husband.

“I don’t know,” she told Nathan.

Suddenly she couldn’t meet his eyes.

What are you doing
, she thought.
You can’t have him. You shouldn’t be leading him on like this. It isn’t fair.

“I used to believe in them,” she said. “I wish I still did.”

He frowned and reached up, cradling her face in one hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Leah opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find the words to explain that inside, she felt like a whirlpool of disbelief, chaos, betrayal, and happiness. How could she be so happy here, with him, when she was letting her entire clan down? How could she enjoy this when she’d never get to do it again?

You know you can’t keep him
, she thought.

“Just kiss me,” she whispered, tilting her head up.

Then Nathan’s lips met hers, Leah’s heart felt so full that she thought it might burst. Electricity sang through her as she pressed herself against him, harder.

Shyly, not quite sure of herself, she nudged the tip of her tongue against his lips and felt him give way, opening them to her and meeting her tongue with his.

Nathan’s hands tightened on her body and, beneath his shirt, the muscles in his chest moved under Leah’s fingers.

A bolt of heat shot through her, along with a bone-deep sense of longing and unfulfilled want. Without thinking or understanding what was happening, she pressed her hips to his.

Deep in his chest, Nathan made a noise and it reverberated through both of them, somewhere between a growl and a moan. It only deepened the desperate ache inside Leah, and she slid her hands around his body to his back, holding him closer and closer.

Nathan broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his eyes closed.

“I didn’t believe in the stories until I met you,” he whispered. It sent shivers down Leah’s back, and she swallowed hard, trying to understand what was happening.

“What are you saying?” Leah asked, suddenly nervous.

Her sense of unease deepened. Not with Nathan, but with the rest of her life.

He isn’t yours and he can’t be yours
, the voice in her head said.
This can’t last and you know it
.

“I thought all the stories were lies,” he said. “Leah, I did a lot of bad things, but then you grabbed a chocolate tart out of my hand and I don’t think I’m the same person anymore,” he went on, the words coming in a rush, like he had to say them and couldn’t be stopped.

“Stop,” she said. “Don’t tell me this.”

He opened his eyes and moved his head back so they weren’t touching anymore.

“Stop what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Stop telling me this,” she said, tears starting to come to her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said, taking her cheek in his hand but she turned her head away quickly, then took a step back so they weren’t embracing anymore.

“I can’t be here,” she said. “I can’t do this.”

All she could think of were the angry faces of her father and Ian, looming in front of her.

They
were her future, and she knew it.

“Yes you can,” said Nathan. “Forget Ian, forget your father.”

Leah sniffled once, still backing away across the flat rock.

“I wish you could be mine,” she said.

And then she shifted, her dress tearing off into shreds.

Before he knew what was happening, Leah had run into the woods, headed back to the house where her family was staying.

N
athan stood there
for seconds on end, staring after where Leah had suddenly shifted and then run off.

What the hell had just happened?

As soon as he came to his senses, he tore off his clothes and shifted himself, running after her. She wasn’t hard to track, an upset grizzly headed straight for the house where they were staying. He had the urge to tackle her, to shift back, to tell her that everything would be fine and that he’d kill her father and Ian and anyone else who said she couldn’t be his.

He didn’t, though. He could tell it was more complicated than that, so even though it felt like his heart had shattered and the shards were slowly making their way through this ribcage, he stayed behind her, making sure that she got home safely, watching her walk up to her front porch.

Nathan even looked away when she shifted back to human.

If Leah wanted him to see her naked, she’d let him know.

He walked slowly, still a bear, back to the Pinnacles, dressed, and rode his bike back home. He felt empty. He felt like nothing had a point, so he just laid on his bed in his clothes, hoping that dawn would come soon. At least he had a cabinet to finish.

I
t was early
when his phone rang again, and Nathan was still in his clothes, on his bed. Every time he’d tried to sleep he’d had the nightmare again, the one about Kaitlyn. A dark parking lot, bright headlights, and that awful, sickening
snap
.

“What,” he said into the phone.

“I’m sorry to do this,” Brock started. Nathan frowned. Since when was Brock sorry about anything? “One of the Whitehorse boys is still a pain in my ass, and I really need you to teach him.”

Nathan flexed the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, all his pent up restlessness and rage flowing through him.

Punching somebody would feel pretty good right now
, he thought.

“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

She’s not going to love me anyway, so who cares?

I
t was a gray day
, constantly threatening to rain, as Nathan stood next to his shitty car outside the inn that had once been a hunting lodge. It wasn’t really an inn, but the clan called it that — it was really just a free place to put guests for a while.

Nathan had been standing there for an hour already when Carson emerged, wearing a jean jacket and a day’s worth of stubble.

He stopped for a moment when he saw Nathan and frowned at the other man, looking like he couldn’t quite remember where he knew him from.

Nathan stared back for long seconds, before he realized: Carson wasn’t going to figure out who he was. The only time they’d met, Carson had been far too trashed to remember anything.

“Hey, man,” Nathan called. “You still want to go fishing today?”

It was a wild guess, but with the men up here, fishing was usually a good bet.

Carson squinted at Nathan, looking like a man who really needed some sunglasses.

“Fishing?” he said.

“Yeah, we said we were gonna go fishing today,” Nathan said. “Last night? At the bar? You said to meet you here around eleven?”

“Oh, right,” said Carson. He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

It was all Nathan needed. Obviously the other man believed him.

“Hop in,” Nathan said.

“Actually, my recollection of last night ain’t so good,” Carson said, scratching his head. “I was kinda hoping to find breakfast or coffee or something.”

Nathan faked a big smile, leaning one arm on top of the car.

“I’m not doing so hot after last night either,” he said. “Want to go get some bacon instead? I know a great diner twenty minutes away.”

“They got coffee?”

“Of course. It’s a diner.”

Carson walked toward the car.

“I’m in,” he said.

T
he two men
didn’t talk a whole lot on the way to the diner that Nathan had invented. There was no diner, of course; he was taking Carson to the middle of the national forest. Grizzlies had a wonderful sense of direction, and he knew that Carson would find his way back to town — it wouldn’t be fun, though. It would be nerve-wracking and exhausting, especially with a black eye or two.

That was Nathan’s job, though. To teach people lessons. The lesson here was that you didn’t get drunk and nearly cause a riot in Fjords.

It was impolite.

“The diner’s down here?” Carson asked as Nathan turned down an unmarked paved road.

“It’s really out of the way,” Nathan said. He’d been in a terrible, dark mood ever since he’d woken up that morning, and it was comforting in a terrible way to know that someone else was about to have a worse day.

“The bacon though, man, it’s worth it,” he said.

He turned onto a gravel road, barreling down it so fast that it sounded like the wheels might rattle off.

Carson had gone very, very quiet, and he looked at Nathan strangely.

“Were you at the engagement party?” he finally asked.

Nathan glanced over.

“Why?”

“You just look real familiar is all,” Carson said.

Up ahead, the gravel stopped and the road turned into two ruts.

Nathan pulled up and stopped the car.

“We’re here,” he said, and Carson looked around, obviously lost.

“We are?” he said. He still hadn’t gotten suspicious, which Nathan found incredible.

“This is the parking area,” said Nathan.

Carson got out of the car and looked around for few moments before he started to get angry.

“Where the fuck are we?” he asked, confronting Nathan. He was a little shorter than the other man, and he bounced on his toes in a not-very-threatening way. “You think this is—”

Nathan punched him, sending Carson stumbling backward, and he shut up.

Even as his knuckles blossomed with pain, power shot through Nathan.

This, at least, he knew how to do. He knew exactly what was going on, and he was in control of it.

Then Carson straightened up, and a pang of guilt shot through Nathan. Carson’s cheek was already swelling where he’d hit the other man.

Unbidden, Leah’s face flashed in front of him.

Is this who you want to be?
She asked him, and Nathan stopped dead in his tracks.

“What the hell, man?” said Carson, still partly bent over, his hand on his face. “I thought we were going fishing!”

Nathan watched to see if Carson was going to try anything, but the other man looked far too hungover and sick to throw a punch, much less land one.

This isn’t what I want
, Nathan thought.

He actually felt bad that he’d punched this guy.

Be better than this, even if she’s not yours
.

“Fuck,” Nathan muttered.

“What?”

Nathan turned and stomped around the gravel road, kicking rocks into the trees.

“FUCK!” he shouted, listening to the echo shout back at him.

Carson just watched Nathan like he was a crazy person.

Finally, Nathan marched back to the car and opened the doors.

“Get in,” he told Carson.

“I don’t know—”

“Get in unless you want to walk back to town from here,” Nathan commanded, in no mood to deal with this man or his hangover logic.

Carson did as he was told, sitting as far away from Nathan as he could, still holding his hand to his face.

Halfway back to town, Carson finally spoke up.

“Can you at least tell me what this is about?”

“You’ve been getting drunk and shifting in the middle of town,” Nathan said. “I’m supposed to convince you to quit it.”

“Oh,” said Carson.

Half a mile from town, Nathan stopped, pulled off the road, and told Carson to get out. The other man didn’t ask questions, just did what he was told.

“If you tell anyone I went easy on you, I’ll break all your bones,” Nathan snarled.

Carson nodded dumbly, and Nathan took off again. Walking half a mile with a hangover wasn’t a bad punishment, he figured, but it was something.