Need to Bear (Heart of The Bear Book 4) Read online

“I didn’t have to, Mark. They caught you, cutting me up like I was a piece of meat.” For the first time, she didn’t flinch when she said the words. “What you did was obvious. Bragging about it after you were arrested didn’t help your case.”

  He slapped her, hard enough to snap her head sideways. She had expected it, but the pain still shocked her. “I tried to explain, tried to tell them that you pushed me to it, with your constant whining and complaining.”

  “I bet that went over well.”

  He slapped her again, letting her go this time, and she smacked into the side of the gazebo. Her left cheek throbbed from his double assault. Something struck her back—and she remembered the quiver, the arrows she had impulsively stuck in there this morning. Real, sharp arrows.

  Mark’s voice jerked her around.

  “You have been away from my influence too long, darling. You sound like a shrew, with that sharp tongue. No wonder you are alone here. No man wants to be cut by your uncouth manner.”

  Reagan had forgotten just how uptight and narrow minded he was. At first, she had found it old-fashioned, and charming—until she had realized he believed his outdated ideas, and expected everyone else in his life to fall in line with them.

  She took in a shaky breath, and kept leaning against the gazebo, to hide the quiver as she eased it down her arm. “You didn’t take one fact into account, Mark.” She looked at him, and she knew the shock of direct eye contact would distract him. “I’m perfectly happy without a man in my life. I’m thrilled that you are no longer part of it.”

  This time, he backhanded her—and pain roared across her face. She laid one hand over her right cheek, not surprised when it came away bloody. The costume rings on his right hand had pointed details that were sharp enough to be weapons.

  “Why do you have to be so insolent? Force me to hurt you like this?”

  The quiver tapped her leg. She lowered her head, like she was in pain, and inched her left hand down, closing her fingers around the feather fletching.

  “You’re the only one doing the forcing, Mark. I didn’t ask you here—I left my home because of you—ˮ

  He hauled her forward, adding more bruises to her already aching arm. She pressed the arrow against her leg, praying he couldn’t see it. “You were supposed to wait for me. I love you, Reagan. Haven’t I proven my devotion to you? Haven’t I tried to turn you into the perfect woman?”

  Rage burned away any fear. “Is that what you thought you were doing? You’re a bully, Mark. A selfish, conceited, egoistical bully.” She wanted to smile at the shock on his face, but she took advantage of it and kept talking. “You are going to spend the rest of your miserable life in prison, whining about the system, your lawyer, anyone you can blame—anyone except yourself. Maybe someday you will finally realize you are the one who screwed yourself over.”

  She jammed the arrowhead into his right thigh.

  He let her go, staring down at the arrow jutting out of his leg. Reagan took advantage and sprinted forward. She screamed when his hand grabbed the back of her voluminous tunic and yanked her backward.

  “You bitch.” With a roar, he threw her at the gazebo.

  Reagan braced herself for impact, and still cried out when she slammed into the wood and stone building. He was on her before she could recover, and slammed her into the wall again.

  “No one leaves me. No one.” Oh, God—she knew that tone. It had preceded every violent episode in their relationship. “I came here to punish you for what you did. But now, I’m going to destroy you.”

  He pointed the pistol at her and fired.

  ***

  Grey loped through the park, the stench of evil almost drowning out Reagan’s scent. Most people didn’t know that evil had a particular smell, but to Grey’s sensitive nose, it reeked, marking the owner as clearly as a bullseye.

  He jerked to a halt when gunfire echoed across the park.

  Reagan—

  Fury shot him forward. If the bastard hurt her, Grey would tear him limb from limb.

  ***

  Reagan ducked, hearing the bullet hit the wood just above her shoulder. Mark cursed, and aimed at her again.

  She rushed him just as the pistol fired. Pain exploded through her left arm, but she kept going, tackling him before he could adjust his aim.

  They hit the grass, hard, Reagan sprawled on top of him. Fresh pain threatened to take her down, and nausea burned her throat. She ignored it, and grabbed his right wrist, slamming his hand against the ground.

  “Let go of me!” He bucked under her, weaker than she expected. “You hurt me—let go—let go—ˮ

  She slammed his hand down a third time, and he dropped the pistol. A low, furious growl froze her. She turned her head, slowly, and spotted the huge, black bear running toward them.

  “Greyson?”

  Her whisper halted the bear. He padded over to her, sniffing at Mark before he snorted and shook his head, like he had just smelled something rotten. With one huge paw, he trapped Mark’s left arm to the ground, then looked up at her.

  “You came for me, didn’t you?” She studied him, meeting the glowing, dark gold eyes. Her left arm throbbed, and she felt herself getting lightheaded. “This is Mark—don’t hurt him, all right? I want him to spend a long, healthy life in prison, thinking about me every day.”

  She could have sworn the bear smiled at her.

  Carefully, she pushed herself up, trying not to groan at the movement. The bear growled when her left arm appeared.

  “It’s all right. I think. But it hurts like you wouldn’t believe, and I’m starting to get a little—nauseated.” She caught the ground with her right hand, swallowing. “Thank you, Greyson. I think—I’m going to pass out now.”

  The last thing she thought she saw was the bear turning into a man, all muscled, warm skin as he caught her in his arms.

  ***

  Grey carried Reagan to the hospital, not caring that he was naked, or that most of the locals and more than a few tourists were on the main street, starting their candy rounds. Matt caught up with him, shielding him from the attention with a glare and his jacket, which he draped over Grey’s shoulders.

  “I called ahead,” he told Grey, his voice quiet. “They will be ready for you. How is she?”

  “The bastard shot her.” It had taken all of Grey’s control not to strangle the coward for hurting her. Instead, he had used the sash from the man’s ridiculous pirate costume and tied him to the front rail of the gazebo. “But she stabbed him in the leg with one of her arrows, so he’s not going anywhere. The pistol he used is in Reagan’s pocket. You can collect it later.”

  “Take care of her, Grey. I’ll take her statement when she’s ready.”

  He patted Grey’s shoulder and took off, talking into the radio at his shoulder as he headed for the park.

  “Greyson?”

  He halted, staring down at Reagan. Her eyes were open, pain blurring the beautiful blue depths. Seeing her like this drove rage though him again. He started walking, slower now, so he wouldn’t jostle her arm.

  “I’m taking you to the hospital, Reagan. It’s over—you stopped Mark all on your own.”

  Her gaze moved to his bare chest. “That was you, wasn’t it? In the park?”

  “I’m sorry it took so long. Corey had trouble finding me. Thank you for protecting him.” He would owe her for the rest of his life.

  “I love him,” she whispered. “I would do it again, in a heartbeat.”

  “I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Close your eyes, and rest. We’re almost there.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed, and laid her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for coming for me.”

  “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I’d like to meet your bear, under less dramatic circumstances.”

  His heart pounded, relief and arousal fighting for dominance. “I’d like that, too.”

  The hospital came into sight, and he move
d faster. A team waited for him outside the emergency room, a gurney between them. Dr. Simon met him halfway, checking Reagan’s bloody arm as they headed for the gurney.

  “It looks like a through and through,” he said, glancing up at Grey. “I’ll have to check for nerve and muscle damage. You can borrow some scrubs until one of your brothers brings you some clothes. I don’t need my nurses running into the other patients because they’re staring at you.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  He gently lowered Reagan to the gurney, then stepped back. It was time for the professionals to take over. As much as he wanted to help, they would take care of her, and keep him in the loop every step of the way.

  A male nurse met him at the door. “Doc Simon told me you needed some clothes.” He smiled at Grey. “I take it you’re the naked man who’s been running through town.”

  “Observant.”

  The man laughed, and held out his hand. “Mick Nielson, at your service.”

  Grey took it, surprised by the strength in his grip. “Greyson Black.”

  “Come with me, Mr. Black, before the ladies start fainting in admiration.” For the first time since Corey had found him, Grey laughed, and followed the nurse into what looked like a break room. “Wait here, and I’ll bring you some scrubs.” He eyed Grey. “I hope the XXL top will fit you.” He grinned. “Worst case, I can outfit you in a patient gown and robe.”

  That seemed to amuse him. Grey shook his head as he watched Mick stride out of the room. For the first time, he felt the cool air hitting his bare skin. All of his bare skin. He glanced down, not surprised to find he had a hard on. Danger and adrenaline did that to him, every time.

  With a sigh, he slipped Matt’s jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it around his waist. He may still be hard, but at least he wasn’t waving it at everyone who walked past him.

  The beat up sofa looked so comfortable, but Grey didn’t want to put his bare ass on the worn leather. Instead, he leaned against the wall, and waited for Mick to return with whatever he could wear. His need to replenish after shifting was becoming more urgent, to the point that even the scent of what passed for food in the hospital cafeteria made his mouth water.

  He was about to follow his nose to the source when Mick walked in, a pile of blue over his arm.

  “I brought a couple of different sizes. I’ll shut the door and hang out in front of it, to keep any of the nurses from ‘accidentally’ walking in on you.”

  Grey wanted to smile at the implied air quotes.

  “I appreciate it.”

  He waited until Mick closed the door, and untied the jacket, dressing as quickly as he could. The first top he chose fit him. Just. He slipped on the scrub pants and tied them off at the waist, anxious to see Reagan.

  She had fended off the man who once terrified her, and he wanted to tell her how proud he was of her. He wanted to tell her how much he needed her in his life. Hopefully, he would find the words when he saw her, because at the moment, all he could think about was touching her warm, silky skin, prove to himself that she was all right.

  ***

  Dr. Simon left Reagan alone, finally, after the third examination of her now stitched and bandaged left arm. Painkillers had dulled the throbbing, and fading adrenaline left her exhausted.

  She was still shocked at how she had stood up to Mark. The old Reagan would have cowered at the sight of him, never mind a weapon. That would have made her pass out, no question. Instead, she had used her own weapon against him. She was quite proud of herself.

  The door opened, and she wanted to groan. If Dr. Simon poked at her one more time…

  Her mental protest faded as Greyson walked in, and relief flooded her when she saw Corey behind him.

  “Reagan!” Corey sprinted to the bed, halting before he touched her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be better after you hug me.”

  He did, careful of her bandaged arm. “I was so scared for you.”

  “I’m proud of you,” she whispered, rubbing his back. “You didn’t panic, and got your dad to me when I needed him.”

  “You hardly needed me by the time I arrived.” Greyson moved to the other side of the bed, dressed in scrubs. The top barely fit him, every inch of blue cotton molded to his impressive shoulders. “I didn’t get to take care of you today, Reagan, but I want to take care of you, for the rest of our lives.”

  She stared at him. “Take care of me?”

  “Yes.” His hand hovered over her bruised left cheek. She knew her right cheek looked worse, under the bandage. The nurses refused to let her have a mirror, but she had used the metal bedpan to get a glimpse. She looked like she had been beaten up. “I care about you, and I want to—”

  “Take care of me. I got it.” Her heart ached at the words. She knew he liked her—at least, she hoped he liked her, after making love. After he told her that he and his bear wanted her for good. Did “taking care of her” mean the same thing? If so, she’d pass. “Thank you for coming. I’m tired now, and I’d like to get some sleep.”

  Greyson didn’t move. “Reagan—”

  “It’s sweet of you to offer, Greyson, but I can take care of myself.” She squeezed Corey’s hand, and forced a smile. She didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t happy to have him here. “Thank you for coming to visit, Corey. Watch over the library for me until I get back, all right?”

  “You bet. Is it okay if I come and visit you again?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Dad?”

  “I’ll be right out, Cor. Can you give us a minute?”

  He nodded, and walked out, letting the door close behind him. Greyson waited until they were alone.

  “Greyson—”

  “I’m doing this wrong.” He scrubbed at his face, and she finally saw the exhaustion in his movements. “Please think about what I said. You’re so good with Corey, and I do want to take care of you.”

  There it was again. If he said that one more time, she was going to scream.

  “Thank you, Greyson. I’ll think about it.”

  Reagan turned on her side and closed her eyes, hoping he would get the idea that she wanted to be alone. Traitorous tears already stung her eyes, and she refused to let him see how much his words hurt her. No man would ever have that kind of control over her again.

  Endless seconds later, she heard the door quietly close, and only then did she let herself cry.

  Tomorrow she would be strong. Today, she would mourn the end of something that had never really begun.

  Eight

  It took three days before Dr. Simon finally gave his consent for Reagan to go home.

  Lindy Black picked her up, ignoring Reagan’s protest that she could have taken a taxi home.

  “Not in my town, dear. You are one of my employees, and dear to me. I wouldn’t allow you to fend for yourself after such a traumatic event.”

  Lindy didn’t say anything else about what had happened. Not when she signed Reagan out, not when she guided Reagan to the mayor’s limo waiting in front of the hospital entrance, not when she helped Reagan into the roomy back seat.

  Once they were on their way, Reagan became a captive audience, and Lindy finally took advantage.

  “I understand my son Greyson came to your rescue. Not that you needed it, dear. From what I heard, you took that poor excuse for a man down yourself. I also heard that Grey completely botched his attempt to woo you.”

  Reagan leaned her head against the back of the seat. “If that’s what he was trying to do, then yes, he botched it. He said he wanted to take care of me, Mrs. Black.”

  “Lindy, please. My son has his faults, and facing his own vulnerabilities is one of them.” She took Reagan’s right hand. “His ex-wife hurt him, emotionally and spiritually. It has been hard for him to trust another woman. When I saw how he was drawn to you, I hoped—well, as a mother, I hoped I was about to have another daughter-in-law.”

  “I won’t bow down to another man. I don’t car
e how devastatingly good looking he is.” She smiled at Lindy’s shout of laughter. “Oops.”

  “He is quite easy on the eyes. Do me a favor, Reagan. If he tries again, give him a nudge in the right direction. And give him another chance to tell you what is truly in his heart.” She looked out the window. “Here we are. Let me walk you to the door.”

  Reagan didn’t refuse. She felt more than a little out of sorts; from the painkillers, and their conversation. What if Greyson had been trying to say something else, and approached it wrong? Could she risk opening her heart again, with the chance of having it stomped on? She was too tired, and too heartsick, to make a choice right now.

  Lindy took her keys, and unlocked all of her door locks without a comment. Now that Mark was back in custody, the locks were no longer necessary. Even if he did manage to escape again, Reagan was no longer afraid of him.

  Once they were inside, Lindy kept going, settling Reagan on the sofa in her living room.

  “If you don’t object, I’m going to get you some water and a snack before I leave you alone.”

  “No objection here.” She was thinking about bed, but food sounded good.

  Lindy disappeared into her kitchen, returning with a glass of water, and a bowl of Reagan’s favorite cheese crackers. “I thought the salt might soothe any upset from the medicine.” She set the water and the bowl on the side table, in easy reach. “If you need anything, no matter how trivial you think it is, I want you to call me.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Lindy bent down and hugged her, gently. “Get some rest. The library is covered for the next two weeks, so there’s no rush.”

  Guilt had her speaking up. “There’s no need—”

  “You were shot, Reagan. I want you to take the time to recover completely. My librarian is an important part of Pine Heart, and I want her at full strength when she returns to her job.”

  “All right.”

  Lindy kissed her forehead, and left her. With a sigh, Reagan leaned back, closing her eyes. The silence was blissful, after the constant noise at the hospital. She felt herself drifting, and thought about stretching out on the sofa, before her chin lowered and she fell asleep.