The Right to Bear Arms: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #1) (11 page)

“Should I drive the car home?”

“Hell yeah. Take it home and change. I’ll be over in a sec.” He passed my new revolver to me with the safety on. I would have forgotten and left it with him if he didn’t.

We’d already talked and discussed the possibility of enrolling myself into a concealed handgun class. With my new S&W, I felt more confident about carrying for my protection. I drove my new-to-me car home, squealing joyously the entire way like a child on Christmas. I even triggered the alarm the moment I shut the car door.

Once inside, I set my shiny revolver on the kitchen counter and darted upstairs to my bedroom to change. A quick rummage in the closet provided a cream, off-the-shoulder dress with a billowy bodice. The perfect amount of cleavage.

I let my hair down and misted it with lavender water to refresh my curls. Russ appreciated my casual looks, adored me without makeup, and simply liked me for being me. With him, I could be myself.

Had I ever felt so in love with Michael? A giddy feeling overtook me until I giggled crazily in the bathroom. I applied some sweet, peach-flavored gloss to my lips and admired my hair again. My dress emphasized my cleavage and tits.

“Maybe just a little make-up.” I peered down into the makeup kit and selected a brush for my eyeshadow palette. When I glanced up again, a frowning face peered back at me through the mirror. There was a man standing behind me in the open bathroom door to my bedroom. I shrieked and whirled around to face my ex-husband in the most unlikely place I ever expected to find him. My home. Mike was in my home, violating the private sanctity of my new residence.

“You look like a slut.” Mike’s gaze lingered on my breasts. He was at least ten pounds thinner. His gaunt face had hollowed a bit, and his bloodshot eyes told a tale I knew well. He’d been up all night drinking and the binge had extended to the day. The smell of tequila wafted off him and assaulted my nose. Shit. Why hadn’t I set the house alarm, too?

“I look great. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? No one else wants to put up with your shit, right?”

The shotgun was in my closet, behind Mike, and far out of my reach. All I had at hand was a jar of cream eyeshadow and an Avon make-up brush with a tapered black handle.

I could make a stand here and now. I weighed more than he did and I knew how to deliver a punch now. Those thoughts of dispensing physical justice died as quickly as they were formed though once I saw the gun tucked into his waist. Fists and a makeup brush weren’t any match for a firearm.

A terrifying realization occurred, bringing with it a flash of cold understanding that struck me like ice water. A man only arrived at his ex-wife’s house with a gun for one reason, and one reason only. He’d kill me whether I fought or not.

Two years ago, I would have cowered. I rushed him instead and shoved all of my weight behind my hand. The blunt end of the makeup brush sank into his shoulder. He punched me and screamed in pain, but my sudden attack gave me the upper hand. With my weight, I knocked him over and darted into the hall.

“You bitch!”

Get downstairs, get downstairs.
The alarm Ian had installed included a panic button. I could activate it from the box beside the door or my phone — which I had left in my car with my purse. In my excitement over everything, I’d left the keys behind, figuring I wouldn’t need them.

Unlike my old home in the suburbs on the postage-stamp-sized yard, I didn’t have neighbors for nearly a mile down the road. Screaming from inside my house wouldn’t do a thing but strain my vocal cords.

Mike thundered down the stairs behind me. Something whizzed past my head and the front window shattered. It took my mind a second to register that Mike had actually fired a bullet. At me. It wasn’t about wanting to slap me around or intimidate me anymore. He’d come to finish me off for good.

Abandoning my idea to reach the front door and the security system box, I immediately turned the corner to duck out of his line of sight. I ran toward the kitchen with tears streaming down my cheeks. My revolver was on the counter and I grabbed it without pausing.

“No one gets to have you but me!” Another bullet zinged past and struck the cabinets.

“You’re crazy!” I yelled back. Sunshine blinded me as I slammed the patio door open and darted outside. Distance was what I needed. Distance and Russell.

“Help me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Somebody help!”

Another shot rang out, but this time I had no idea where it struck. Mike’s aim was lousy, much to my favor, but I didn’t dare to count on that fortune continuing.

“Get back here, you fat whore. Gonna leave me and just spread your legs for the next man to come along?”

I didn’t know how many bullets a Glock could hold, but the rounds in Mike’s handgun seemed never-ending.

“Ungrateful bitch, you don’t get to leave me. Not after everything I gave you.”

I spun on my heels and took off for the front lawn where my new car waited for me. With the revolver in my hands, I felt like a coward. Who ran from a man with a gun when they had a weapon of their own?

“Get your fat ass back here!”

Another shot rang out, and then wind rushed past me. An enormous jet black blur hurtled by my left side. My mind didn’t move quickly enough to register the things happening at that moment. Mike’s startled scream, the roar, and another gunshot made me stop cold in my tracks.

I turned to see my bear upon Mike, shoving him into the grass and mauling him with unforgiving claws. Then my ex-husband fired point-blank into my bear’s belly. The sudden explosion of pain must have startled the animal who released his prey and reared back, allowing Michael to scurry to his feet. Blood streamed down my ex-husband’s chest as he raised the gun and shot my bear again.

A few days before, I told Ian I didn’t think I could shoot a man. Given the choice between my bear and my ex, there was no competition. My mind had never been clearer. I raised the revolver, peered down its sight, prayed, and slowly pulled the trigger. Michael jerked back as the round struck his shoulder then I fired again. I fired until the last report echoed and the revolver was empty.

I didn’t know how many times I hit him, and I didn’t care. I tossed the gun aside and rushed to my bear’s side. Blood pooled on the grass around his lush black fur.

“No!” I shrieked. I threw myself to my knees beside him, feeling more helpless than ever. Michael’s glassy eyes stared up at the sky, but all of my concern was with my bear. My protector. “Don’t die. Please don’t die.”

I could call for a veterinarian, couldn’t I? If a vet could operate on a horse or a cow in some pasture, couldn’t they save my bear? With his blood on my hands, I rushed into the house and dialed 911 from the kitchen. I had no idea what gibberish I screamed into the line, too distraught to make sense beyond yelling that ‘he’ was dying and to send someone please.

As I stepped onto the patio deck again, I saw my bear shambling to his feet and lumbering toward the tree line. Everything I knew about wild animals told me to keep my distance, but my love for him drove me forward across the grass.

“No, don’t move. You can’t go like this. You’re hurt!”

He proved me wrong and put on a burst of speed that took him through the brush and into the forest. For an injured animal, he moved quickly and disappeared beyond the tree line. Instinct made me give chase.

Branches whipped at my face and slapped my skin, scraping my exposed skin with every step. I ran barefoot after him despite the difference in our speed. With his blood on the forest floor, it wasn’t too hard to track him. He left a trail that I followed with ease.

It was like my dream, only this time, I ignored the burning in my calves and thighs to tear through wilderness. My chest heaved and my lungs burned for air. I wasn’t in shape and my body hated me for every step, but I knew in my soul that if I let him run this time, I’d never see him again.

The bear rustled through the bushes ahead of me and escaped the overgrown woods into a manicured rear lawn. I knew this yard. This half-finished wooden fence. I knew those carrot tops and green tomatoes, as well as the bountiful number of white peaches dangling from the branches of an enormous tree.

“Russ!” I called. “Russ! Help!” I screamed again for him. I found the bear sprawled in the middle of the garden, still bleeding from both injuries. The gunshot left a ragged exit hole and a smaller entry, both congealed with blood. With no other option, I fell to my knees beside him and slid my fingers over his dark coat. “I’m here. I’m here. Shh...”

If he did die, I wanted him to go feeling loved. I’d known somehow since the first day he dined with me, that my words were understood. Gazing down at him now I saw the keen understanding in his pain-filled eyes.

“Russ!” I called out again. Comforting the animal as he died became my top priority. If I could do nothing else but remain at his side, I’d do that at the very least. With tears streaking down my cheeks, I turned my face toward the log cabin and waited for my boyfriend to emerge. Where was he?

The bear moved beneath my hand. The coarse sensation of thick bear fur receded away until bare skin and smooth muscle was in its place, confusing my perceptions of what I last saw with what I felt. I blinked down toward the animal and gaped.

The creature under my hand was no longer a bear. A human male lay on his side, his body contorted with agony and pain. “Russ?” I jerked my hand back from my boyfriend’s brawny arm. He didn’t wear a scrap of clothing, but the most undeniable proof was the identical holes in his midsection. Two entries and one exit. I stared.

“Dan... Daniela. I need you to... I need you to get my first aid kit. It’s on the...” He groaned and controlled his breathing. “Bottom kitchen drawer, below the microwave.”

“You were a bear. You were a bear a moment ago. Russ, what’s happening? Why were you my bear?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Fuck, this hurts.” Russ groaned and tried to sit up until I pressed a hand to his shoulder.

“Don’t move!”

I dashed into the cabin and retrieved the kit as directed. Once beside him again and on my knees, I used the only medical know-how I had to apply pressure to his bleeding wound. “You need a doctor. You’re losing so much blood, Russ.”

“No.” He shook his head and grunted. “No hospitals. You need to go back to your place, Dani. Tell the police what happened and say the bear ran away. It’ll all be on camera.”

“I’m not leaving you like this!”

“You have to. I’ll be fine here. I promise you, baby. Just do as I’m asking you to do, please.”

“But—”

“Darlin’, please. I know you don’t have much love for your ex, but... but you need to meet the police there. Tell them what happened.”

I knew he was right. I’d shot Mike and there was no way to cover that up or deny it. If I fled the scene, I’d be looked on with suspicion.

Terror had numbed me. The chase through my home, Mike’s attempt to kill me, and the shoot out on the lawn had made his transition from bear to man seem almost simple by comparison. Choking on my tears, I nodded and rose to my feet.

When I returned to my yard, Mike’s motionless shape remained in the same place where I left him, or rather, where I shot him. I shuddered and couldn’t force myself to go see if he was still breathing. I’d leave that to the professionals.

Less than a minute later, the small-town cops swarmed into my yard. I stayed where I was with my hands out in the open and my gun lying on the ground.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you hurt?”

I shook my head and pressed my lips together in a failing effort to remain calm. My boyfriend was a bear, my ex almost murdered me in my own home, and I’d shot a man for the first time. The reality of gun ownership didn’t empower me; I felt terrified and waited for them to haul me away next.

“I think she’s in shock. Ma’am, we need you to tell us what happened here.”

“He... my ex-husband broke into my house and tried to kill me. I shot him.” I didn’t realize I was hyperventilating until the world dimmed and I was suddenly sitting on the damp grass. One of the EMS workers had lowered me to the ground. Another handed me a bag while speaking gentle instructions to breathe into it.

“Hey, I remember this house. There’s an open vandalism case on her car,” one of the officers said.

“Can you tell us what happened to your ex-husband?”

“He’s shown up uninvited a few times, but this time he came into my house,” I told the two policemen. “He shot at me with his gun.”

They introduced themselves as Officer Hunt and Officer Perry. I nodded a lot and answered their questions with short answers before directing one of them to the security console inside of the house. Surveillance ran 24 hours a day whether or not I armed the actual system itself. Hunt, the lanky and taller officer with a thick southern accent, headed over to review the tape while Perry remained near me with the paramedics. Drained and exhausted, I didn’t argue when the female EMT guided me to their van and onto the stretcher to rest.

Hunt returned to the van. “Yup. Everything’s like she said. The bear came from the front of the home to intercept her husband and from there, she shot him after he fired into the animal. You say you were feeding him, ma’am?”

“Ex-husband,” I stressed, “and, yes. I fed him almost every day. He was a good bear.” I shivered beneath the blanket the paramedic had draped over my body. It wasn’t enough to warm me.

“Gotta say I agree. He may have saved your life,” Perry said.

An hour later, Mike’s body had been removed from my lawn by the local examiner. The police had my report, but I promised to drive up to the department the following day to make an official statement.

After they were gone, I paced the floor then washed my face in the kitchen sink. My glass window had been trashed and fixing it wasn’t my first priority. With no other alternative, I armed the security system and stepped outside into the cooling night air.

Dreading the worst, that I would return to find him bled out in the grass, I made the long walk to Russ’ cabin only to step into the yard and find it empty. Russ wasn’t there. Trigger barked to announce my entrance into the otherwise quiet cabin, meeting me at the door and licking my fingers eagerly.