Bear Apparent (BBW Shifter Romance) (Stone Claw Clan Book 1) (3 page)

He had to get her out of here.

“Start walking,” Garrett commanded, ignoring the jolt of agony that shot through him. He pulled the sleeping bag closer, the false sense of security it offered doing little to sooth his nerves.

She blinked at him with big, green eyes, her lips parting in delayed thought. “Okay, ah… can
you
walk?”

He knew she hadn’t intended to insult his bear-pride, but the insinuation cut like claws to his heart. It was a very real concern, however, seeing as he could hardly hold his balance. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I have to.”

“I can go back for help—”

“No. No more people.” The last thing he needed were more humans in the path of a pissed off bear-leader bent on revenge. Erecting his spine, he kept his expression neutral as he ignored the pain. “Walk.”

“I don’t exactly feel comfortable with you at my back,” she said, her voice falling with every word.

Something more potent than physical pain speared him—how could she think he’d hurt her after he had risked his life to save her? As he ran his eyes all over her blond curls and oval-shaped face, familiarity stimulated his memory box… perhaps he had seen her in passing in one of the neighboring townships? There was no time for introspection, so he took a step forward, then another until he was but a few inches from the female.

Slumping his shoulders and softening his expression to appear less threatening, he asked, “What is your name?”

The way her bottom lip went in between her teeth did something to him he wasn’t comfortable with. Finally, she spoke, her tone laced with caution. “Dahlia.”

“Garrett,” he said, then inched closer until her back was against a tree. “Here is how it is, Dahlia. That bear that nearly killed you and me, will be back with the rest of his friends. When that happens, I won’t be able to protect you, not in this condition. So if you want to live, start moving or I will leave you behind out of self-preservation.”

He fully expected her to cower and seek his protection, but she huffed, and planted her hands on her hips. “You could have spared me the grim details. Besides, I can handle myself. If I didn’t poke that bear in the behind, it would have killed you.”

Narrowing his eyes at her challenge, he added, “And then you. You’re going to need a lot more than a pocket knife to kill him. So, if you’re done being stubborn—” he held out his hand, “—please, after you.”

She stared him down for a long moment, and Garrett’s lips twitched up in amusement. Finally, she sighed, turned on her heels, and started walking. He followed behind, his ears perked for the sound of movement. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but the pain was making it difficult to do so. And then there was the scent of this woman with the name of a flower… Garrett shook his head until he jostled his brain. He swooned.

Dahlia was next to him in an instant, her face reflecting worry as she held him steady. Luckily, the sleeping bag shielded him from her touch which he was sure would unsteady him more than the concussion he had probably sustained. He shrugged her hands away. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are,” she said, then stepped away. “Silly me. I mean, your insides are practically visible, but so what, right?”

With that, she tipped her chin up, and started walking again. Her brash words stoked the animal inside of him, but not in the way he had expected. It was as wounded as he was, but he got the impression it wanted out to play. His head reeling from the passed twenty-four hours, his brain was too smashed to examine that strange desire.

They walked for a good twenty minutes, and Garrett glanced overhead. It would be dark soon, and in his condition the pace was slower than a glacier. But so far he hadn’t detected any sounds or smells belonging to the interlopers.

Looking over her shoulder, the female inquired, “So, I haven’t actually lost my mind, have I? You did change from a bear to a man. Wait, so if that’s true, are you really a man that can become a bear or a bear that turns into a man? My head hurts…”

“You appear sane to me,” he said, surprised by his playful response.

She passed him a droll look.

“No,” he spoke up, concentrating on where he was walking. He knew if he fell, he’d never get up again. “You’re not going crazy. What you witnessed has happened. I would change that if I could, but what is done, is done.”

The female seemed to mull over that for a long while, and he homed in on her heartbeat—it was slightly elevated suggesting she was in a state of heightened alert, but she appeared otherwise relaxed as anyone in her situation could be. The realization that she was handling this whole thing remarkably well worried him, though. Most humans that learned the truth about his species usually freaked out, and formed search parties to hunt the beasts down—of course, that had been a long time ago and nowadays, the chance of discovery was low considering humans paraded around as vampires and werewolves. But she’d seen him shift, and there was no explaining that away.

This whole thing could be solved by convincing her she was, in fact crazy.
He’d figure something out, but right now his focus was getting them to safety.

As they walked, he swore he could hear the unanswered questions zipping through her mind. Every now and then, Dahlia would glance at him, her eyes running up and down his body for a quick instant as if she were wondering how he could become a bear. It wasn’t surprising, those that knew of his people’s existence pondered over that same question. Despite her obvious curiosity, she remained silent. At least until they came to the edge of the woods and she gasped, then raced to a beat up Cherokee parked in an overgrown lot. Snatching the little orange slip from her windshield, she whispered some very unsavory curses.

Garrett barreled right for her car and demanded, “Do you have any rubbing alcohol or cleaning solution?”

She blinked at him for a moment as if she hadn’t expected him to be there. “Yeah, I think there is some in the first aid kit.”

Fisting his hand in impatience as she searched for her keys, he examined the environs. The lot was fairly open, the trees that surrounded the picnic area young and smaller so the places to set up an ambush were limited. Finally, the female got the keys in the slot, then leaned in the backseat. Garrett groaned low in his throat as her plump ass pressed against her jeans, and he nearly passed out.

Wrong time and place, buddy.
He felt his animal paw at the inside of his skin in gentle urging.

“Got it,” she said, producing a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

Snatching it from her grip, he dropped the sleeping bag then ripped the cap off the bottle. He ignored her squeak of surprise as he dumped it over his head. His body lit up like a bonfire as the chemicals irritated his open wounds. He stayed on his feet by sheer will. Shaking from the cold shock of pain, he stiffly handed what was left to her, and commanded through clenched teeth, “Pour the rest on your car and make it count.”

She accepted it robotically, her jaw hanging open in disbelief.

When she didn’t do as he had asked, he explained, “The chemical will kill my scent so I can’t be tracked.”

“Right. That actually makes sense.” She set into action, dousing her car.

The liquid dribbled off in several places and Garrett knew it wasn’t perfect, but would do for the time being. Once they got on the road, and far enough from the woods, his scent trail should be destroyed by the alcohol. His body protested every move as he opened the side passenger door and slipped in. The seat abraded the wounds on his back and he hissed, but quickly collected himself. Taking several deep breaths, he managed to keep himself conscious. He lolled his head to the side to find Dahlia sitting at the wheel, those huge green eyes lovely against pale skin and blond curls.

She held out her hand, two white pills in her palm. “Aspirin.”

He sputtered a laugh and instantly regretted it. “Have you seen me?”

Her eyes dropped to the twin tablets and her disappointed expression kicked him in the balls. He snatched the medicine and tossed them in his mouth.

“Right,” she said as she started the car. “The hospital then?”

“No!” he hissed.

She smacked her forehead. “Of course. A veterinary clinic, right?”

He gave her the side eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand, but the corner of her eyes crinkled—
is she seriously laughing at me?

“I did tell you that a monstrous bear with the intent to slice you in half is after us, right?” Garrett hedged, but it was hard not to be amused.

“Okay, so where am I taking you?”

“As far from here as possible. Preferably in a crowded, secure area with resources, food and medical supplies,” he said, looking out the window for any movement.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed. “I’m really considering doing this, aren’t I?”

Chapter Three

Pain penetrated Garrett’s sleep, refusing him the deep, oblivious-to-the-world rest his body needed. Besides, he couldn’t afford to pass out until they were in a safe location. The steady hum of the car’s engine soothed him along with the smooth thump-thump of the female’s heart—it had a nice, strong rhythm, and he knew it was a sound he could fall asleep too… if his body wasn’t singing with agony.

He didn’t need to see his wounds to know they were healing, and in some ways, the mending was as equally as painful. It would take them some time to fully heal, but by the time he faced his rival again, he hoped to be in tip-top shape. Of course, his chance of actually beating the stronger male was zip, but he had to do something,
anything
to keep his clan safe.

A leader is responsible for everyone. From the lowest ranking member, it will be your duty to ensure they are safe. A man that puts their best interests above his own… that is the mark of a true leader.

Relaxing as much as he could in his state, Garrett ran through the options—surrendering would be the surest way to guarantee their survival. Once he was out of the picture, they would likely be integrated into the challenger’s clan or run off. The later was bad, but the former worse.

I have no idea what I’m doing.
At thirty-eight, he was still a kid in the shifter world.

Something touched him on the shoulder. Garrett snapped to attention, his claws slipping out of his fingers, and his fangs elongated. He didn’t have much left in him, but he would go out swinging.

A familiar feminine face twisted by worry, soothed him and he remembered where he was and who he was with. He reeled himself in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You startled me.”

“Never sneak up on wild animals… right. So, ah, we’re here,” Dahlia said, her throat shifting hard, and Garrett hated himself for scaring her more than she probably already was.

Her words sunk in, and he turned to look out the window. A quaint, wood and plaster cottage sat surrounded by several evergreens against a backdrop of suburban homes. It wasn’t so compact that nosy neighbors could see into the windows, but the place seemed to be situated on the edge of a bustling human settlement.

“Where are we?” he asked, scanning the trees and bushes for anything out of place. He took note of several escape routes and cubby holes that could provide ambush points.

“My house,” she said, her tone wavering as if she were reconsidering her decision.

Garrett regarded her, his hackles rising. “You brought me to your territory? Are you crazy? If they track my scent, it will bring them right to you!”

Her mouth worked for a moment. “You said somewhere far away with a lot of resources. You wouldn’t let me take you to the hospital or a veterinary clinic… what else was I supposed to do? Uproot my life and drive to New York?”

Frustrated, Garrett scrubbed his face—she had a point, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud. “Fine. Hopefully the rubbing alcohol did the trick. Where exactly are we?”

“Barrington, one-hundred and forty miles from where I found you. With that, she pushed the driver side door open and got out.

The drive hadn’t seemed that long, but Garrett figured the distance would be enough to deter the rival clan from tracking him down. But he couldn’t stay here long. He needed to keep moving, and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now. Wincing, he got out of the car, his knees nearly giving out. He watched in impatience as Dahlia unloaded her luggage.

Her hands full, she bit her lip. “Are you sure you can make it to my door? Let me drop this off and I’ll help—”

The blow to his ego was absolute. Pushing against weariness with all his might, he stepped away from the Cherokee, and pegged her with an intense look. She seemed unaffected and rolled her eyes, muttering something impolite about the male gender. Too tired to correct her assumption of him, Garrett followed, his vision blurring with every step. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far to the front door.

When they were inside, he demanded, “Bathroom.”

She pointed in the general direction. “Don’t leave the toilet seat up.”

He stumbled toward a door and shoved it open, nearly ripping it off its hinges. He locked it behind him then rested his weight against the porcelain sink. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he realized he looked as bad as he felt. A sheen covered his skin, and he had smudges of dirt across his forehead and jaw, but the worse of it was contained to his torso. Several gashes cut across his abdomen, chest and shoulder, but the bleeding had stopped, and the wounds had dried out.
Still hurts like a mother fucker,
he mused.

For a moment, he thought he was looking at the face of his father. His nut colored hair was matted from blood and debris, and his strong cut jaw was heavily stubbled from days of neglect. His father would have known what to do in this situation… Garrett realized how much he missed the man. He felt like a weak little cub, clumsy and naïve. His parents had been taken from him far too soon.

His image blurred in front of him, and his muscles loosened so that he couldn’t hold himself up. He tried to remain conscious, but his body and mind was shutting down…

****

Dahlia blinked at the bathroom door as she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Girl!” Jessica said harshly. “What part of call me every few hours did you not understand?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, watching the ribbon of light underneath the door shift as her guest moved around inside. “Oh my God, Jess. You’re never going to believe what happened.”

“You’re not in the hospital, are you?”

“No, I met a man—” the sound of something heavy hitting the floor stole her words. “I’ll have to call you back.”

Dahlia ignored Jessica’s protests, and cut the connection then slowly inched toward the bathroom. She listened hard, then tentatively called out for the guy. When she didn’t get a response, she approached the door. Her hand shook as she griped the handle and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. He must have locked it.

“Hello?” she said, knocking. “You didn’t die, did you?”

Dead silence.

Biting her lip, she tried pulling on the knob again. Frustrated, she let out a big breath that sent her tangled mess of hair fluttering. Really?
You brought this strange… creature into your home. What were you thinking?
He was probably bleeding all over her bathroom floor. That thought gave her pause, and she started to panic. What if he were really dying?”

Balling her fist in frustration, she wanted to beat on the door. A lot of people said she was naïve, others reckless, but what Dahlia Pinski wasn’t, was helpless. Racing to the kitchen, she dug in the junk drawer and located a screw driver. She was at the bathroom door in a flash, and started working on the hinges. It took a few tries, but she got the first one off. The other was a lot easier. Putting all her strength into it, she forced the door open, the sound of cracking wood making her groan. She was so charging him for new siding.

Dahlia stilled, her hand going to her mouth in disbelief as she found Garrett. He had indeed passed out. Apparently, he had crumpled to his knees, his body falling forward to leave him in an uncomfortable kneeling position that revealed…

“Holy… crap,” she muttered as she got a good look at his well-shaped ass, his skin a creamy caramel throughout. Her cheeks flamed as his position revealed a large, potent nutsack and the tip of his beyond-well-endowed cock—
Dahlia Ann Pinski! What is wrong with you ogling an injured man while he is unconscious?

She squeezed in, and tried to advert her eyes as she reached for the towel. Her fingers connected with the fabric and she spread it over his limp body, the super-plush towel doing little to cover his large frame. She poked him several times, and called his name, but he seemed to be out cold. His chest and shoulders moved up and down at a steady pace, letting her know he was still breathing.

“Boy,” she said, taking a seat on the commode. “If it weren’t for all the blood, and the fact you parade around as a bear, having a naked man in my bathroom would be really awesome.”

She watched him for a long moment, wondering if this was some bizarre dream. All her life she had wanted to find that creature that had saved her, but now that she was presented with evidence of another world, it didn’t seem real. Whatever Garrett was or wasn’t, the reality was that he was in bad shape. Shaking her head, she rose to her feet and disconnected the door. Setting it aside, she returned to the living room, and plucked the throw blanket from the couch then laid it on the bathroom floor behind Garrett.

Positioning herself in front of him, Dahlia took several deep breaths, then put her back into lifting his head and shoulders off the tile. The guy weighed a ton, his bulk falling against her like a sack of potatoes. She huffed and pushed. His weight shifted behind him, and he fell on his back against the blanket. His head made a whomp sound as it hit the floor, and she winced.

“Sorry,” Dahlia muttered then shifted around to the other side.

Getting a good grip on the ends of the blanket, she threw her weight behind her and pulled. Judging by the inch she managed to gain, she knew she was going to need a deep-tissue massage by the time she got him to the couch.