Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I grinned, loving that I got to be with him like this—just the two of us, relaxing and spending an enjoyable night together talking over the rest of the concert.
Then Zane turned around to drop his jeans…
Revealing a very clear, red-inked target stamp in the middle of his lower back.
And I lost my ever-loving mind.
TWENTY-ONE
ZANE
Bears don’t take betrayal lightly. While they’re usually calm and solitary, trust is huge for them, whether between mama bears and their cubs or during mating partnerships. If a bear feels threatened or deceived, their reaction is swift, and they’ll avoid whoever caused the distress. For a bear, a second chance isn’t given easily… so whenever possible, try not to piss them off.
—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 86
I was walking on air. The show had been a success, Bear had fucked me up against a wall at the arena, and now, we had the whole night ahead of us in the hotel suite.
“Baby.”
“Hm?” I asked, reaching for the knob to turn the water on in the shower.
Bear hesitated, but I could see he wasn’t playing or flirting anymore. He looked serious.
“Bear. What is it?”
His hands were so gentle on me. He reached for my hips and turned me back around, then traced his fingertips over my lower back.
It took me a moment to catch on, but when I did, my stomach plummeted. “No,” I whispered.
I swiveled side to side as if I’d be able to somehow see my own lower back. Finally, Bear moved out of the way so I could see it in the mirror.
Last time it happened, I’d been scared.
This time for some reason, I was pissed as fuck.
“No!” I ground out. “No, they don’t get to fucking touch me. They don’t get to fucking toy with me! Who the fuck does this? Who the fuck comes into someone’s personal space…” The reality of the situation slammed into me. “They got under my clothes this time,” I breathed.
And then my breaths started coming too quickly. “I want them gone, Bear. I want them to stay away. I want to find out who’s doing this. How could they do this? Who does this?” My voice sounded hysterical, which I hated.
I didn’t want to sound hysterical. I was angry. Betrayed. Confused. And enraged.
Bear tried to reach for me, to pull me into his arms and comfort me, but I shoved him away and stepped in the shower. I was going to wash as much of it off as I could. And then I was going to figure out who the fuck had done this.
“Z.”
“I’m not upset,” I snapped. Bear furrowed his brows in confusion, so I corrected myself. “Okay, obviously I’m upset. But I don’t need comfort right now. I’m pissed. How dare they? How fucking dare they.”
I scrubbed my skin like it had betrayed me because I felt like it had. Did I not have enough situational awareness to notice when someone lifted up my shirt and inked my fucking bare skin?
Jesus fuck. Who was so oblivious that—
“Stop.”
Bear’s deep grumble was so calm it made tears smart in my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t talk to him about this, really, because I knew he felt responsible. The worst part about all of this was the guilt he would feel for failing me.
“This isn’t your fault, Bear,” I said desperately. “You probably weren’t even there.” Fuck! That wasn’t what I’d meant. “They’re obviously slick. They obviously created chaos sufficient enough to do this without me noticing.”
I could hear the panic in my voice, so I quickly closed my mouth and concentrated on scrubbing.
Bear yanked the soap out of my hand. It slipped from his grip and went shooting loudly across the tiles, banging like a tossed marble ball on its way toward the drain.
“Honey, take a breath.”
I inhaled quickly, accidentally sucking in shower water. I coughed and snorted. I couldn’t even breathe right.
Bear gathered me quickly into his arms and lifted me up to press my back against the frigid walls. I winced before sinking into him, curling around him and letting him hold me tightly.
I cried angry tears. For the asshole who had ruined my perfect night. For the motherfucker who had dared to violate me. For the actual mother whose abandonment all those years ago had finally begun to sleep peacefully in the grave I’d made for her in my mind.
“I had a song for you,” I finally admitted in a small voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t sing it.”
Bear pulled back and cupped my face, keeping my back and ass pressed against the tile. “For me? I assumed I was the grizzly in your song.”
I smiled through my snotty, swollen face. “You were. You are. But that one wasn’t written for you. I wrote one for you.”
“Yeah?” He asked, the edges of his lips quirking up. “Why didn’t you sing it?”