Scottish Werebear: A Second Chance: A BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Scottish Werebears Book 6)

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Scottish Werebear: A Second Chance: A BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Scottish Werebears Book 6) Page 5

by Lorelei Moone


  James’ protective instincts kicked in. He couldn’t very well invite her along to Eric’s place, but he could make sure that she was safe and comfortable.

  He pulled out his wallet again and took out a few notes.

  “Whoa, I don’t want your money!” Charlie protested.

  “Just find yourself a decent hotel somewhere at least!” James insisted.

  She looked at the money and up into his eyes again. “I’ll pay you back.”

  James smiled. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

  “Yes, that’s what I want,” Charlie spoke resolutely.

  She finally accepted the money, her fingers brushing past his in the process. The first time they’d touched, the sensation had been intense. This time, it was even stronger.

  James looked into her eyes and knew she felt it too.

  Everything seemed to be falling apart around them, and yet his instincts told him to make her his. Of course, she hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done; for leaving her. He hadn’t forgiven himself either.

  James couldn’t stop his mind from racing as they said their goodbyes. He wasn’t sure how they’d ended up running into one another today, in what seemed to be a strange city for both of them. It had to be fate, as silly as that sounded.

  She represented his one regret in life. He’d never even looked at another woman the way he was looking at her now.

  They nodded at each other awkwardly and mumbled their goodbyes. Just as well they hadn’t shaken hands or hugged; he wouldn’t have been able to let her go.

  This wasn’t goodbye. He was certain he’d see Charlie again, and he wouldn’t have to wait for ten years this time.

  “Henry,” James greeted his leader as the latter opened the door to Eric’s flat.

  “James. We have a lot of work to do.”

  James nodded and stepped inside.

  “You’ve seen the Sons protest?” James asked. The flickering TV in the corner of the living room suggested his question was superfluous.

  “He was good, wasn’t he?” Gail, who sat on one of the sofas, asked. “I still can’t believe we’d never heard of this guy…”

  “Yes, he was. Their rhetoric has always been seductive. A certain proportion of the populace will identify with it.” James took off his coat and pulled up a chair.

  “You know what they say,” Henry said. “Know your enemy.”

  Except for Henry, Gail, and Eric, there were a few new faces in their midst. Members of the London crew.

  “So what’s our next step?” Eric asked, looking at Henry expectantly.

  “Our plan has been to educate from the start. We’ll have to step it up if we want to avoid pushing people towards the Sons.”

  “They had names, pictures. Do we have a list of our own?” James asked. “I know we had some files over at Blacke’s office of deaths and abductions which potentially linked back to the Sons, but they were far from complete.”

  Henry leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. “The Glasgow office certainly did when I was in charge. I’m pretty sure the Edinburgh office had quite a collection too. I’ll check in with Jamie.” He sat up straight again and looked in Eric’s direction.

  “Can you reach out to anyone you might know in the London Alliance for this information? Perhaps someone who might be on the fence about whether to continue following Blacke? If the Sons ramp up their activities, it’ll be bad for all of us anyway.”

  Eric nodded and got up to make the call.

  James, meanwhile, pulled out his notes on Blacke and started to strategize. Education was definitely the only way forward. “How’s our web campaign doing?” he asked.

  “I’ll get Kyle’s report within the hour,” Henry responded.

  “And we might as well bring all this up tomorrow,” James suggested. Whatever happened, they still did have a meeting with the Home Secretary’s people in the morning.

  “Actually, what we need the most,” James thought aloud, “is a face. Someone with real skin in the game. Someone who has lost someone perhaps… Someone sympathetic.”

  James looked up at Henry, who returned his gaze. “Alison,” both spoke together.

  “Do you think she’ll be up for it? She’d have to go public about her involvement with Jamie,” James said.

  Henry shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  “Why just her? How about the whole family? Jamie and especially his brother Matthew have quite a story to tell.” Gail suggested from across the room.

  James didn’t know them too well, so he had no way of predicting if they’d be up for this. But the Brown child abduction case was well known in their circles. If they could somehow get Alison on record to speak about why she switched sides, and Matthew to share his experiences being kidnapped as a child and growing up in a strange environment without his brother and his parents… Perhaps they could even involve the parents as well!

  That would make for an amazing story; one few people could simply brush away.

  The truth was, there was heartache and loss on both sides, but the Sons had forced the shifter world to protect themselves by any means necessary. This was another reason why coming out into the open had been the only way forward. They had to stop the endless cycle of violence and hate somehow.

  “That could work,” James finally said. “We do need a way to legitimize our story, though. If we simply post it on our website, the Sons will brush it away as propaganda and lies.”

  “We need to do it through the mainstream media,” Henry agreed.

  “Meanwhile, what do we do about Blacke?” James asked, remembering the original problem that had brought them to London in the first place.

  What followed were many more hours of intense discussion and brainstorming which left James exhausted. He - like most bears - wasn’t used to this much talk.

  They’d made progress, though. By the end of it, they had a list of talking points for the morning as well as a plan for making shifters seem more sympathetic. If it came down to it, they could even blame all the violence on Blacke. The conflict between the Sons and the Alliance had escalated under his watch after all.

  It was one in the morning when James finally retired to the cramped room he shared with one of the London guys. Although exhausted, sleep didn’t find him yet. Instead, he got out his phone and the piece of paper Charlie had given him. Her phone number.

  He wanted to call her, or at least send her a message. It was too late, though. He’d only disturb her.

  So instead he just stared at her handwriting. It had hardly changed in all those years.

  When he closed her eyes, he could still catch her scent.

  The man in the bed across the room started to snore, but James was still up. He had meant what he said to her. If she gave him the chance, he would do anything to fix things between them.

  His whole reason for leaving her no longer existed. The secret was out.

  Their chance meeting had been a sign. He was sure of it.

  Chapter Eight

  Ever since checking into her hotel, Charlie had felt restless. She had settled down on the bed and switched on the TV but couldn’t focus on any of it.

  What was she doing here?

  Sure, she’d found James and spoken with him. She’d even managed to glean some insights into the current events and the reasons behind the New Alliance reveal. Perhaps that would be enough to pacify Penderton and guarantee she kept her job once she got back to the office. He’d let her out of the office to follow a lead, but she’d been gone an entire day already. By now, he’d be furious.

  But she couldn’t in good conscience report back on it behind James’ back, could she?

  Why not, actually? Why did she still have this sense of loyalty towards him when he had simply abandoned her a decade ago?

  Just thinking about it made her sick. No matter how stupid and weak it made her feel, she couldn’t betray him. The next time she saw him, she had to come clean.

  Finally,
after staring at the ceiling for an hour or so, her lids became heavy. She drifted off into a restless slumber. And even now, the memories of her lunch with James didn’t leave her alone. She kept seeing him in her mind’s eye. The way he looked at her. The way he spoke of second chances.

  And finally, the way he’d left in a hurry after that weird man had appeared on TV.

  “We’ll meet again,” she heard him say. “I’ll find you. You’re mine.”

  Those last words filled her with an overwhelming warmth. Yes. She wanted to be his. She wanted to kiss him again and so much more.

  It had felt so good; that one kiss they shared ten years ago. If there was ever a moment in her life when everything was perfect, that had been it. She wanted to feel that way again. Excitement to the point of giddiness. Butterflies filling her stomach. And hope. Above all, she wanted to feel hopeful for the future again. That she wasn’t meant to stumble through life alone, but that she’d have someone to share everything with.

  When she awoke, all was dark around her. The alarm clock on the bedside table read 1:05.

  What a dream.

  Charlie stretched and turned onto her side. She picked up the phone that lay beside her pillow and stared at it for a moment. She wanted to call him so badly.

  Earlier in the day, she’d been conflicted. His presence had reminded her of all those old feelings that still brewed in her. But she’d had trouble ignoring all the pain his disappearance had caused.

  Now, after that dream… She just wanted him back.

  Should she tell him she’d had a change of heart?

  It was late, though. And perhaps this was just a moment of weakness, nothing more.

  Charlie sighed deeply and pushed the phone under her pillow. This wasn’t the time.

  Still, she was awake already. There was no way she could fall asleep again.

  So she switched on the light and grabbed her notepad and a pen. Work always provided a good distraction.

  Rather than obsess about her feelings, she wrote down everything she’d learned about shifters. They had a dangerous enemy it seemed. The Sons of Domnall. The speech they’d seen at the cafe reminded Charlie of the kind of rhetoric you usually heard from nationalists. It was always us vs. them. The familiar vs. the other.

  There was no doubt that it would appeal to people. She was biased, of course, because she knew James. Other people didn’t have that luxury. They’d see teeth and fur and claws and let their most basic instincts take over.

  If they wanted to prevent these people from gathering support, they had to show the world another side to the shifters. That there was more to them than their dangerous exterior. That they were human at heart.

  Charlie noted down everything in a frenzy. This was exactly the kind of thing she normally did at the Herald. She was used to writing feel-good fluff. No matter how much she’d cursed her assignments in the past, they had taught her how to appeal to people’s hearts.

  If she had to come clean about her job, and why she’d come to London in the first place, she might as well offer her help. That way, she didn’t have to keep secrets from James, and Penderton would be happy too. It was a win-win.

  When Charlie awoke again, it was already morning. Light streamed in through the open curtains, bathing the whole room in a golden glow.

  Beside her, pages upon pages of scribbled notes awaited. All this would help her talk to James about her work. She wasn’t sure of his schedule today. With a bit of luck, they could have lunch again. Then she’d come clean and explain her plan to help their cause. Once that was done, perhaps she could get on an afternoon flight home so perhaps she could catch Penderton before he went home for the day and grovel her way back into work.

  Charlie got up and immediately went in for a shower. Then she tossed her stuff into her messenger bag and made sure none of her belongings were left around the room. If he wanted to meet soon, she was ready to check out already.

  Once everything was done, she sat down on the bed and took a deep breath before dialing his number. She let it ring, but there was no answer. The voice mail picked up after a while.

  Fine. Perhaps he was busy. She hung up without leaving a message and tapped out a text instead.

  Call me when you see this - Charlie

  And then she waited.

  Nothing. Was something wrong?

  She tried calling again, but the same thing happened.

  A growing sense of unease descended over her, which she tried to brush away as paranoia. Finally, she switched on the TV to provide some distraction.

  The news coverage was mostly the same; repeats of the New Alliance reveal, the hate speech, Adrian Blacke’s appearance. The only new thing Charlie saw was an appearance by some university professor who spoke about anthropological evidence of shifters in other cultures. He seemed flustered, as though he didn’t want to be on TV at all.

  An hour or so later, Charlie couldn’t stand waiting around the room anymore. The endless repeats of the same news over and over grated at her. Plus, she’d missed the breakfast buffet and had started to get hungry.

  So she picked up her things and made her way towards a quaint little cafe near the hotel. Despite being in a much larger city than what she was used to, this cafe didn’t feel strange at all. She watched the world go by from her window seat.

  People in suits, rushing to get to work while balancing takeaway cups of coffee and pastries or sandwiches in their hands. There was a bus stop outside, so it was only when one of those red double-decker buses arrived that Charlie could even tell she was in London and not Edinburgh.

  A large latte, a danish pastry and a whole lot of people watching later, her phone rang, nearly causing her to jump out of her seat.

  It wasn’t James, though.

  “Hello, Ella,” Charlie answered.

  “You sound disappointed! Were you expecting someone else to call?” Ella teased.

  “Nevermind. I’ve not had much sleep,” Charlie lied.

  There was a pause.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to check in to see how things were going…”

  Charlie took a deep breath. It would be so much safer to keep everything locked up inside and not tell her anything. But somehow, that same paranoia, or whatever it was, had come back. She needed a release.

  “I found him, yesterday,” Charlie began.

  “Oh! That’s awesome! What did he say? Don’t tell me that’s why you haven’t slept much?” Ella’s voice had become shrill with excitement.

  “We had lunch. That’s all. But…” Charlie took a deep breath.

  “But?”

  “He said he wants to try again,” Charlie said. It sounded surreal, hearing those words aloud again.

  “Wow! Just like that?”

  “Yeah… I don’t know what to think. How can I trust him after what happened, you know?”

  “Hmm, that’s a tough one. I guess you gotta follow your heart on this,” Ella said.

  “And now today he’s not picking up or returning my messages…” Charlie closed her eyes and rested her face in her hands. “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

  “I see. Well, perhaps he’s just busy,” Ella said; her uncertain tone didn’t convince Charlie.

  “And on top of that, he kept saying about how it was a sign that we bumped into each other…”

  “That’s… that’s rather sweet, actually.”

  “Right. But it wasn’t a coincidence at all, was it? I had tracked him down with your help.” Charlie sighed and looked out the window again.

  “True…”

  “I still need to tell him what I do for a living.”

  “Oh, shit, Charlie! You had lunch with the guy and kept your job a secret? Don’t tell me you wrote about him already!” Ella demanded.

  “No, no, of course not! I would never-” Charlie didn’t finish that sentence. She had planned to do exactly that; go in, talk to James - ideally record the conversation as evidence - and write an article t
hat Penderton would have to put on the front page. Why hadn’t she done it? Not out of the goodness of her heart, no. Simply because she wasn’t over James, which was worse.

  “So… are you going to tell him?” Ella asked finally.

  Charlie nodded, though of course, Ella couldn’t see it. “Yeah, that’s what today was all about. I wanted to meet with him in person and come clean. But now I’m just scared that something has happened.”

  “Okay.”

  “What if I don’t get that chance, Ella? What if-” Charlie’s mind raced with paranoid scenarios that might have prevented James from taking her calls. “He could have been arrested. Or - did you see that strange protest on the news yesterday? What if some of those anti-shifter guys hurt him?”

  “Charlie… Charlie!” Ella’s tone was firm.

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve got to calm down. I’ll ask my friend to look into it again. Perhaps we can figure out together what’s going on. But give it a day, okay? Don’t drive yourself crazy now. Perhaps he was just busy, and all of this will seem silly when he calls back later today.”

  “Yeah…” Charlie sighed again. She had lost it. Her mind as well as her composure. This was totally unlike her.

  “Promise me you’ll relax,” Ella said.

  “Okay. You’re right.”

  “Now… Did you meet any of his friends? Were they hot?” Ella’s eagerness made Charlie chuckle despite herself.

  “You’re impossible!”

  “What? I haven’t forgotten about our deal. I hope you haven’t either, because I’ll hold you to it.” Ella laughed.

  Charlie shook her head and smiled. “Fine! I’ll tell you everything…”

  Chapter Nine

  The following morning, everyone was up early. James, Henry, and Gail had their appointment at the Home Secretary’s office at nine. Meanwhile, Eric was going to meet with someone from the London branch of Adrian Blacke’s Alliance. If they wanted to effectively counter the Sons, and get the public on their side, they had to work together.

  James couldn’t help feeling distracted, though. He hadn’t heard from Charlie, and he couldn’t wait to call her and perhaps agree to meet again later in the day. In the back of Eric’s car, he kept peeking at his phone every so often. It was perhaps still a bit early; maybe she wasn’t up yet. He should contact her later, after the meeting.

 

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