Growl (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 0)

by Fanning, Becca

  Ruby sniffed, a look of self-pity popping into her eyes. He trusted that look as far as he could throw it. Just because Jackson had shown her more attention than he had the others, Ruby undoubtedly had started getting too big for her boots. It was always the way with the bunnies.

  They never seemed to understand how rare it was for a bunny to become an old lady.

  And to Mars’ mind, being an old lady wasn’t the grandest role for a woman to play in an MC either. Most of them were drunks, spent half their time pissed at their old men because they were fucking around on them and the other half sad because their lives were a lot more limited than the bunnies.

  “She started it,” Ruby whimpered.

  He grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her down onto the couch. It was a testament to how disgusted he was that she rocked back on the sofa with the force of his push. She bit her lip and immediately bowed her head when he growled at her as she started to complain at his rough treatment—hell, any other brother would have slapped her silly for the fuss she was making. No way in fuck was he taking shit for pushing her onto a seat.

  “What the fuck’s going on, Pipsqueak?” he asked the other bunny, but his voice was gentler because he didn’t mind this one. If he dipped his wick with any of the club whores, on the rare occasions he succumbed to his baser urges, it was with her.

  “She started going on about how she was going to be Jackson’s old lady. I told her she was a fool if she thought the Prez was gonna take up with her, and then…” Pippa bit her lip and peeped up at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, it does.” He looked around the bar, saw the amused crowd that had gathered around them, and was tempted to tell his brothers to fuck off. He knew it wouldn’t work, a thought which almost made him chuckle because he’d have wanted to watch the aftermath of a bitch fight too, if he hadn’t been busy with Ursa. He reached down for Ruby, yanked her onto her feet, and prodded her forward. Pipsqueak followed him, as did the sounds of boos as he moved the entertainment away from the brothers and down to the offices.

  Heading for his own, he opened the door, pushed Ruby in and took a seat at his desk while Pipsqueak closed the door behind them all. “You know what the rules are, Ruby,” he scolded again, his tone a bit more modulated this time. “You know what I’m going to have to do.”

  Ruby sat up, eyes wide with horror. “You can’t kick me out.”

  That she knew the rules and the consequences of breaking them pissed him off all the more. It meant she’d started the fight thinking she was above the rules. Fuck that. “Why can’t I?”

  “I’m Jackson’s favorite!”

  That had Mars snorting. “Yeah, his current favorite. That won’t last long.” The problem with being second-in-command was he sometimes had to deal with petty shit, most of that dealing with the women who hung around the MC.

  Some days he could handle it, others not, but this was pretty unusual. The bunnies knew the price of in-fighting, and for some fucked up reason the idea of being exiled kept them in line. Ruby’s belief that being Jackson’s favorite meant she could do whatever she wanted irritated him more than anything. It made him want to set her straight. No tolerance.

  Sometimes, depending on the bunny, he could be swayed. But not today. Ruby had fucked around on the wrong brother’s watch.

  “You can’t do this!” she snarled, sitting up ramrod straight. Her tits protested the movement, the false globes smashing against the tight tee she wore, making the hems creak a little.

  “I can,” he told her smoothly.

  “If I’m out, that bitch is too.”

  He shook his head, and with a pleased smile because he’d never liked Ruby told her, “You started the fight.”

  “I. Did. Not!”

  “You think I take your word over that of a brother?” Immediately, she sank in on herself, gulping. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be so stupid.”

  Her bottom lip started to quiver. “How long until I can come back?”

  “Six weeks.”

  “Six?” she cried, all her hopes and dreams of becoming the Prez’s old lady sinking around her. Jackson would have a new whore in his bed tonight and undoubtedly a new favorite before the end of the week.

  It was dog eat dog in this place—or bunny eat bunny, whichever way you looked at it.

  Starting to enjoy himself and her misery, he stated easily, “That’s the rule. Don’t hate me. I’m not the one who made the laws around this place.” He drummed his fingers against the desk. “Now, get your shit together and get off the compound.”

  “She’s getting punished too, isn't she?”

  “I’ll deal with Pippa now.” He reached for his phone and called Kiko’s cell. “Need you to escort Ruby off the premises after she’s collected her crap together.”

  Kiko snorted. “You’re being a hard ass, I take it.”

  “You shouldn’t have asked me to get involved if you didn’t want me to go by the book.”

  “Nah, I like Pip. Ruby's too trumped up for my taste.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m having you escort her off the compound.” He cut the call but didn’t have long to wait until a knock sounded at the door. “Six weeks,” he told Ruby again. “If I see you hanging around, it will be a permanent exclusion, you hear me?”

  Her bottom lip was out in a full pout, but she nodded. “I hear you.”

  “Good. Now fuck off.”

  She got to her feet, stuck out her chest, and bounced off on too-high high heels. How the fuck she’d fought in those monsters, he didn’t know. When Kiko nodded at him then shut the door, he turned to Pipsqueak who was staring down at her feet.

  She wasn’t the usual club bunny, which was why Mars liked her. Unlike Ruby, whose tee had to have been two sizes too small, Pip wore a baggy shirt and sneakers. The only thing in any way sexual about her was the short shorts she wore that highlighted the perfect curve of her ass when she bent over or did anything that made her shirt tighten against her.

  “What’s going on, Pippa? It’s not like you to fight.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I know. But the stuff she was saying… It just got to me.”

  “You know we don’t allow fighting, not among the bunnies.”

  “I know. She did start it though, I swear. But she was saying shit. Shit about Cub. I just… It hurt my heart.”

  Pip had been one of Cub’s favorites. In fact, if anyone had been close to making the unlikely leap from club bunny to old lady, it had been Pipsqueak with Cub.

  “What was she saying?”

  “Just how Jackson was a better Prez, that he was taking the MC in the right direction. Like she knew shit. Club business kind of shit.”

  That had Mars frowning. “Seriously?”

  Pippa nodded. “I told her she was a lying cunt, and that’s when she went for me.”

  Mars’s lips twitched. “I guess that doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Ruby does so love herself.”

  That had Pippa snorting. “I’ll take a suspension too, Mars. I don’t mind.” She sighed. “Nothing’s right about this place anymore. Not without Cub.”

  He could understand the sentiment. “I know, Pip.” He reached out a hand, and after rounding the desk and leaning against the side, she took it and squeezed his fingers.

  “I loved him, Mars.”

  “I know you did, Pipsqueak. I think he loved you too.”

  Her smile was watery. “I know he did, but it means a lot for you to say that. I know it’s not like you.”

  He grunted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t like bunnies.” She shrugged. “I don’t blame you.”

  “No, I don’t. But I like you. Always have.” He squeezed her fingers in return. “You need anything, you give me a shout, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. Might do me some good to be away from this place for a while.”

  “You’ll come back?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

&n
bsp; He got to his feet and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You know where your stuff is in my room.”

  “I do.” She frowned at him. “You’re not going to escort me? I-I don’t want to go through your place without you there to supervise.”

  “I trust you.” He jerked a shoulder because it was the truth but saw the appreciation in her eyes for extending that olive branch. “Take care of yourself, Pip.”

  “I will.” When she reached the door and was about leave, she licked her lips and shot him a sad wave farewell. He responded, watching morosely as she left, knowing she probably wouldn't return.

  They’d been buddies, he and Pip. Stuff had worn out between them when Cub and she had heated up, but the connection had still been there. Cub’s death had triggered an earthquake among the MC in more ways than one. Pip leaving was likely the most gentle tremor, but the crazy thing was, it hit Mars the hardest.

  Chapter Four

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Annette snarled at her shrink when he shot her another disapproving glance.

  “Yes. Am I supposed to be grateful for your half-hearted presence? If you check your watch any more times during the session, we might as well call this a day.”

  Annette gritted out, “That would be fine by me, but I’m checking my watch not because I want this to be over but because I’m nervous. I have an appointment after this session.”

  “What kind of appointment?” Dr. Harvey asked, settling his pad on his knee with an officiousness that made her want to hit him.

  Christ, of all the shrinks in all of Texas, she had to get the prissy SOB who looked like he ironed his underpants. How the fuck was he supposed to help her when they were completely different people?

  He looked like he’d never stepped foot outside of the state save for college, which had probably been the biggest adventure of his life. She’d been to two war zones, had lived among fighting men, seen things that were too terrible to grace people’s nightmares…

  Dr. Harvey was the worst selection imaginable for her. No wonder it was hard for her to keep her appointments. It always felt like a waste of time being here.

  She pursed her lips, tempted to ignore his question, but instead said, “It’s with a new informant.”

  “For the series of articles you’re working on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a little soon to be getting back in the saddle, Annette. I agreed to let you get back to the office if it didn’t mean putting yourself under too much pressure too quickly.”

  That just proved how little he knew. Annette thrived on pressure. “I’m not pressuring myself,” she immediately denied. “I’m taking things nice and slow like you told me.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?” he sniped.

  “Look, I have no reason to lie. I’m meeting with someone I think has information for my series. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Couldn’t you have chosen something easier to work on for your first articles back at the paper?” he complained, as he’d done for the twentieth time already this session.

  Christ, it was like talking to her mother, not her shrink. The way he whined at her drove her nuts.

  “Why would I do that?” she asked, truly confused by his stupid question. “If anything, I need something to take my mind off this other stuff.” She wafted a hand at the ‘other’ stuff, because it was easier to brush it off than talk about the IED explosion.

  “You’re talking about human trafficking, Annette. That kind of topic is bound to trigger some emotions that I’m not sure you’re ready to handle.”

  “Then we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we? Whether or not I can work for the paper, I’ll keep on working on this series. It’s the only thing that’s made me get out of bed every day this week,” she confessed, knowing that was news which would please him.

  Her apathy was one aspect of her recent behavior he wanted to change, and as predicted, Harvey’s ears pricked up at her words. “Every morning?”

  She nodded. “Before ten, too.”

  This time, his eyes widened and he scratched something down on the notepad in front of him. “This is very good news,” he told her, underscoring something on his pad before he looked up at her eagerly. “It signals a desire to merge back into the day-to-day world. I’m very pleased to hear it!”

  Annette had to fight to stop her eyes from rolling.

  “Who is this informant then?”

  “Someone who claims to know the workings of the gang engaging in the trafficking.” She sat up, leaning forward to eagerly share her news. One good thing about Harvey was the patient confidentiality contract he was obliged to live by. It meant she could brainstorm with him sometimes. For a stuffed shirt, he had some good ideas. “Truth be told, it’s the man who contacted me originally about the whole thing. He’s finally agreed to meet.”

  Harvey’s brows rose. “Couldn’t that be dangerous?”

  She shrugged. “I’m meeting him in a public place.”

  “Where?”

  “Down at a place called Nero's.” She watched him jot that down. “I’ll send you an email after to tell you I’m alive and well.”

  His teeth flashed in a smile. “I would appreciate that.”

  Mother Hen—that term aptly summed up Harvey. Begrudgingly, she said, “Thank you for giving a damn.”

  “It’s what I do,” he told her briskly. “We’re coming to the end of the session, but I’d like you to try to work on those visualization techniques we talked about earlier. By next week, I want you to be more comfortable with the process.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I am comfortable with the process; it just doesn’t work.”

  He sniffed. “That means you’re not dedicating enough time to the technique. As I said, work on it for our next session.”

  Annette got to her feet but was hard-pressed not to snarl at him. How many times did she have to tell him that shit didn’t work on her? She’d never been the sort who found meditation soothing. Yoga never chilled her out. If anything, it pissed her off! Did Harvey listen? Nope.

  For someone who made his living listening to other people, he was surprisingly crap at it.

  “I’ll see you next week,” she grumbled, and in an undertone whispered, “Unfortunately.”

  “Until next time,” he called out as she strode out of the fancy office and into the reception area. Annette was used to money. Her father had lost most of the family’s during the recession, but before that, she’d lived a relatively comfortable life. It was why she’d always had total control of her career from its birth to now. She’d never cared about the money, never needed to, which made her difficult to control. If an editor had said, “Do this or you’re fired,” she’d walked out without a problem. And after her first few articles had started to garner interest on the internet as well as on social media, she’d had fewer issues with editors.

  The last five or so years had been a lot easier. Working with Bobby, she figured she’d found her place. He gave her as much control as the board would allow, and though she was technically on staff and should have worked at the office every day, he’d never made that a priority for her.