Bear

by Reagan Phillips

  I can't breathe. I try, but the breaths won't come in or go out. My chest is so tight, it throbs with pain and burns with each useless attempt. I'm shaking, and I'm hot, and if I don't get out of this booth and this diner and away from this man, I'm afraid I will die from the amount of anger building in my gut.

  "I'm not trying to make myself feel better," I choke out on what air is left in my lungs. The waitress is watching us as is a couple two booths down. I scan the diner for the bathroom door, but it's too far away. I'll never make it before I break down.

  "Then what are you after, Bree? Why did you come here and stir up my past? What do you think you're going to get out of this?"

  My head shakes, but I didn't tell it to. I see myself reaching across the booth and slapping Bear. My red handprint embeds into his skin, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I can't believe I went from a beautiful ride not fifteen minutes ago to hating the man sitting across from me with every fiber of my being.

  I want to get up and walk away, but I have nothing with me--not my phone to call for help, or my wallet to pay for a ride. I'm stuck in this booth with this heartless beast, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it, but to hurt him as much as he's hurt me.

  Bear runs a hand over his hair, and he begins to say my name. I see the change in his face too late. He's trying to calm down, but I'm just getting started on my tirade. I think he may be about to apologize to me, but the rage is pumping too hard and fast to stop, and the words are tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  "I came here looking for answers, Jordan. I was hoping since you'd served with my brother, you might know why he did it. But I guess I should have just stayed home and buried David alone instead of being so selfish. After all, asking why David took his own life is a very self serving question to you, isn't it? I'm sorry I ever asked."

  Before I finish talking, my feet are under me, and I'm moving for the door before I realize I've left the booth.

  Fuck Bear for making me feel like I didn't love my brother. Fuck him for pretending to care. I should have known anyone so detached from their own reality couldn't help me.

  I push out the front door and make for the street. I have no idea what the plan is. I could hitchhike back to the club and get my car and belongings. Hell, at this point, I don't even care where I end up as long as it is away from Bear.

  I made a huge mistake coming here, and an even bigger one falling for a guy with no heart.

  But at least I got my answer. I wipe at my eyes and kick Bear's bike over as I pass it in the parking lot. The damn thing doesn't even fall down, but my toes throb from the pain.

  At least I did get one thing out of this trip. I know now why David killed himself. I drove him to it.

  I killed my brother. And thanks to Bear, I now know the truth.

  6

  Bear

  "I don't have a fucking clue, just get here soon and bring a car."

  I stab the off button of my cell with my finger and jab it back in my pocket. Doc's asking too many questions lately, and it's grating my last nerve. When I say come, the only response I expect to hear is him moving.

  The waitress stops at our table and glares at me as if I've broken some invisible girl code. She wants to say something, I see it in the expressiveness of her eyes, but she keeps her mouth shut. Smart woman. I'm not in the mood for a lecture from a stranger. Even if I do deserve it.

  "Is she okay," the waitress asks, turning to the window.

  I'm watching Bree from our booth. Too afraid if I go after her, I'll push her further away. But, I can't let her out of my sight. Not with Devil's territory only a few blocks to the south and her still wearing Everly's TE tank top.

  "She's fine. Just hard-headed as hell."

  "If you say so." She lays a blank bill with two waters scribbled across the top on the table and turns on one heel for the next booth.

  I've really fucked this all up. I run a hand over my chin, my go-to anxiety tick. Outside, Bree is now near the street and sitting on the curb. No one is even slowing down, but I still watch just in case. She isn't accepting a ride from anyone but Doc, if I have to run outside and drag her away.

  My phone dings and I pull it from my pocket to see Gunner's number. He's the only person I could stomach talking too right now, so I click the call and answer with a grunt.

  "You shut her out, didn't you?"

  I shake my head. "She was never in."

  "Fuck that, Bear, and you know it. She was yours the second you brought her into the clubhouse. Everyone knows that but you."

  "I didn't bring her in." Even if everyone seems to have forgotten, Bree demanded entry just like she demanded everything else. "She wouldn't take no for an answer."

  "Imagine that." Gunner laughs. "Someone who isn't afraid of you. And you're running her off. Jordan, man. You know I'm the first in your corner when you need me, but if you run her off, you are on your own. She's the best thing that's happened to you in years. You walk away from that…"

  Gunner is quiet, and I hate the silence. He's waiting for me to fill in the blanks, but I can't. There is nothing I can give her that will make a difference. If I don't tell her about her brother, she'll hate me. If I do, it will wreck her.

  "She's better off this way," is all I can say.

  "And you're sending Doc after her. What the hell did she do wrong to deserve that?"

  My stomach aches hard down at the base like I've swallowed rocks, and they are breaking through the walls. "Doc's the only one who saw this coming."

  "You mean he's the only one as twisted and dark as you are. Doc's the only person who lets you get away with being cut off because as long as you're rejecting the world, he's free to do it too. You're both screwed in the head, but I'm not going to let that poor girl pay the price for it. I'm on my way to get her now."

  I don't answer before I punch the off button and drop the phone on the table. I'm relieved he's on his way for Bree's sake but, where the hell does Gunner get off calling me cut off? I have the brotherhood—the family. I fight to protect them. I lead the group. That's not rejecting the world, that's surrounding myself with people who care.

  That is what the club was founded on. Giving the walking wounded from wars a safe haven in a storm. A place to fit in. A family of support. I'm as far away from Gunner's words as I am from ever being whole enough for Bree.

  And then it all hits me at once, like a tornado appearing out of the dark sky after a lightning strike and I can't swallow, I'm so pissed at myself for not seeing it all before.

  Bree is one of us. She's broken and suffering a loss, and unlike me, she doesn't have a club of brothers to watch over her. I have to clinch the booth seat to keep from running out the front door to her. Fuck, I'm a dick for blaming her. She needs me, and I know she's the only one who can understand what's broken inside me.

  But when I look out the windows again and see her sitting on the curb with her head in her hands, it hits me that the only thing I will ever do for Bree is to bring her more pain. I can't do that to her. She's had enough.

  She's better off without me. Even if she is my last hope for a reprieve.

  Gunner pulls up in his truck, and I watch Everly hop out from the passenger side. She scoops Bree up by the shoulders and seats her in the middle of the bench seat before they pull away.

  I pick up my phone and type out a message before I lose my nerve. She's better off with Gunner getting her back on the road to start a new life. I'm better off having that happen before I return to the clubhouse.

  She's better off letting me go.

  Bree

  "Why did he do it?" I can't get my thoughts clear, but I know one thing for damn sure. The Jordan David knew while deployed couldn't be the same broken-down biker I picked up off the ground outside a bar.

  Gunner isn't talking. He's focused on the road, and even though he's passed me a few smiles since coming to my rescue, I can tell this situation makes him uncomfortable.

  "Who know
s why men do anything they do?" Everly answers from my side. Since I got in the truck, she's been holding my hand and doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon. "I could tell you stories about my husband, Kyle, that would make you cringe. But that would be out of context because he's always only wanted the best for the people he's the closest to."

  "Bear and I aren't exactly close."

  Gunner muffles a short laugh. Everly passes him a look that shuts him right up before she squeezes my hand. "Believe me. I've only known Bear a few years, but you've gotten further under his skin than anyone I know."

  "That's saying a hell of a lot," Gunner adds.

  "You didn't see how mad he was." I drop Everly's hand and glance down at my lap. "And I wasn't much better. He made me so angry, I dropped a bomb on him I shouldn't have. With everything he's been through…" I pull back the tears, knowing I might have destroyed Bear. I dropped the biggest bomb on him and walked away. "He's not going to get over that."

  "He will," Everly says. "And until then, we'd like for you to stay with us. The club isn't the best place for a nonmember. The brothers can be hard on outsiders."

  I turn to her, reading her meaning. "They're going to be pissed with me, aren't they? Especially Doc."

  "No one gives a fuck what Doc things," Gunner says. "And everyone knows how Bear is. No one is going to think any different of ya for handing him back all the shit he's been dishing out for years. If anything, they will love you for it."

  "But," Everly adds. "We were both thinking you might not want to be around a bunch of men while you're sorting out for feelings."

  "Sorting out my feelings?" I give Everly a sideways glance. "I don't have anything to sort out. He's a jerk. I came here thinking Bear could help me, but instead, he closed down on me and refused to talk about it." I glance between her and Gunner. "I really appreciate the gesture and the offer, but I think it would be best for us all if I picked up my car and moved on."

  "Bear will come around." Everly retakes my hand. She's younger than me by a few years and has way more experience with the men than I do, but there is one thing I know better than anyone. Bear is the last person on earth who can help me heal from David's death. I'm better off starting my life over in a new place. The sooner, the better.

  "Ever, this isn't our business. If Bree wants to go, we need to let her."

  Everly stares at me. "You don't really want to go, do you?" she whispers.

  I lean in closer to her and speak quietly enough for Gunner to not hear me over the truck's engine. "What I came for isn't here. I wish it was. I'd love to get to know you better. But staying will only make it hurt worse."

  She nods and moves to stare out the front windshield, but I don't miss the way her eyes glisten in the sunlight. I'm heartbroken too, but I can't spend another day here, hoping by some miracle Bear will come around and forgive me.

  I'm better off realizing I'll never understand and moving on.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Gunner and Everly drop me off at an auto body shop a few miles down the highway from the clubhouse. Gunner tells me he's going to stick around until I'm on the road, then he'll call Bear and let him know I'm gone.

  Two of the men I recognize from the clubhouse bring my car around to the front of the shop. It's cleaner than I've had in months, and as the younger one hands me the keys, he tells me they replaced the brake pads and windshield wipers and put in a new cabin filter and filled up the tank.

  I pull my wallet out of my bag, but he holds his hand up and shakes his head. I'm relieved. I'm not sure I have enough cash to cover the work, and I'm at my credit limit on my one card.

  Everly and Gunner stick around to watch me pull away, and as I hit the highway, I can imagine Gunner pulling out his cell and giving Bear the cost is clear text. The damn coward couldn't even face me one last time.

  It's not until the shop is out of sight that it all hits me. Just this morning, I'd woken in Bear's bed, happier and safer than I'd been in years. A world of possibilities open and waiting for me.

  The tears I've been holding back all afternoon finally spill and I shake so hard with sobs, I'm afraid to keep driving, so I pull over in a near-empty parking lot and stop the car until the wave runs its course, and I'm too exhausted to cry anymore.

  There is nothing left in me. I can't even drive the car because I don't have a place to go. I'd never thought past finding out why David killed himself, and for the last forty-eight hours, I couldn't imagine leaving Bear. I'm now more lost than I ever have been, with no direction to take.

  No place to go.

  No desire to even try.

  I shake my head at the disaster my life became in the span of a day.

  When I dry my tears, I'm in the parking lot of a small gas station across the street from Grinders. Fitting, given the circumstances.

  I put my phone on the charger, take a deep breath, and put the car back in drive.

  On the road, it takes a while to get enough battery to get a signal, but by the time I reach the interstate, I can check the maps app and make a plan. I've always wanted to go south. Somewhere near a beach would be nice.

  I scroll the routes as I drive, mostly keeping my eyes on the road when my voicemail dings, followed by a second and a third. The notifications keep coming until my screen is nothing but a list of missed calls, all from the same number.

  I'm sure it's Everly, trying to get me back. Maybe even my old landlord looking for the last month of rent I couldn't pay when I left. As soon as I close all the messages out, my phone rings again and out of curiosity, I answer.

  "Bree." The voice is so deep and husky it vibrates all the way down to the pit of my stomach. "It's Doc. Where are you?"

  "Doc?" Why would he ever need to call me, and how on earth did he get my number?

  "Bree, where? You need to tell me."

  "I don't need to do anything," I answer. My skin is heating up, and my heart throbs against my chest in painful beats.

  "I don't have fucking time for this. Tell me how far away you are?"

  Fine. If he really wasn't to know why not. "I'm on the road. Almost to the interstate."

  "Fuck," he draws out on a long deep sigh. "That far. Turn around."

  "No."

  A string of sounds I can't make into words follows before he calls my name. "Bree. I don't know what you did to him, but if you don't get your ass back here soon, Bear is going to be in a world of hurt."

  He has my attention now. Bear would do something foolish after I left, but I'm not sure how that is my problem now. "I'm sure you can handle it. You've been babysitting him for years, haven't you? What's so different now?"

  When Doc doesn't answer, my thudding heart turns into a ten-pound weight in my chest. I slow the car onto the shoulder and park before gripping the phone with both hands. "Doc. What's different now?"

  "He doesn't give a fucking shit about dying. You fucked him up so good, he's heading to the Grinder now with half the Devil's crew already inside."

  "Well, stop him," I yell into the phone. I have the car in reverse before I know what I'm doing, and once the traffic on the opposite side clears, I make a U-turn and drop my foot hard to the gas pedal.

  "There's no stopping him," Doc says. "You were my only hope." He hangs up, leaving a heavy silence on the other end of the phone.

  I don't even click off the call before I drop my cell to the passenger seat. I should have known he'd do something like this. He's just like David in that way.

  No. I stop myself mid-thought. Bear's not anything like David. I press the gas harder. David wanted to end it, and he did with a single shot to the head. Clean and simple with no chance of ever going back.

  Bear wasn't out to get himself killed. He was looking for a way to kill the pain. To end the torture I brought to his door.

  I may not have been able to save David from his demons, but I sure as hell am not going to let another man I love die over a past he can't change.

  I have the gas pedal all the w
ay down to the floor, and I'm not stopping until I reach Grinders.

  I at least owe Bear the chance to save himself.

  7

  Bear

  "I know exactly what I'm doing," I tell the bartender when I take my beer bottle off the counter and start for the pool room in the back.

  I don't give a fuck anymore. If the Devils want a war to prove who owns Grinders, I'm willing and ready.

  There are three of them playing pool and one standing on the sidelines with a fourth guy in the mix I don't recognize. Probably an out-of-towner they're hustling. Poor dumbass is about to lose his shirt, and he has no fucking clue.

  They all glance up when I walk in. All but the sucker they have on the hook for a G. He's too focused on sinking his next shot to notice the turf war about to erupt around him.

  I grab the jacket slung over the nearest table and jab it into the guy's chest with a warning to get the hell out before he loses more than his money.

  "Get lost." I snarl, hoping he has more than shit for brains and leaves.

  Lucky for him, he does.

  "What the fuck, man?" I recognize the Devil coming at me with his cue gripped like a baseball bat in his hand. He's their road leader and the one who laid me out last time. Only this time, I'm not drunk. Pissed as hell and looking for a fight, but I can hold my own.

  "This isn't your turf," I answer before taking a long pull of my beer. The glass shatters better when the bottle is half full, and the weight of the beer at the bottom makes for a great club.

  "He's fucked up again, just ignore him," one says from the corner.

  "He ran off my money. I had that guy for at least two more games. Can't ignore that."

  The road leader is in my face and the spit from his mouth lands on my lips. I reach up to wipe it off, and as I pull away, I slam the back of my fist into his jaw.

  His body jerks and turns from the force, but he doesn't go down. It's exactly what I was hoping for.