Sheltered by the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 1)

by Terry Bolryder

  Sheltered by the Bear

  Terry Bolyrder

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Terry Bolryder Reading Order

  Copyright © 2016 by Terry Bolyrder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Riker took the last swig of whiskey and set the glass down on the old table where he tallied the last few entry fees he’d received for this year’s Bear Canyon Brawl. Stacks of bills were lined up before him, roughly piled in fives, tens, twenties.

  He noted the last wad of money in his ledger and closed the book, sending a faint wisp of dust flurrying into the air as the pages slapped together.

  Maybe he’d actually have time to clean his shop once his brothers got here to take care of Brawl business.

  Just as he thought it, the door to his empty shop opened, a battered bell ringing weakly.

  But by the scent that had come into the room when the door first opened, he already knew who it was.

  “Hey, Rock,” Riker said, turning back to the bills, placing them in a metal lockbox before snapping the lid shut with a clang.

  “Riker,” his middle brother said nonchalantly, looking around him. Everything was the same as ever. His brother, on the other hand… Ever since he’d gone to L.A. to make it as a stuntman, he’d started looking too flashy for a town like Bear Canyon, and he appeared especially out of place in Riker’s dingy workshop.

  His brown hair, unlike Riker’s sandy-blond spikes, was so dark it was almost black, glossy even in the crappy light. Also longer than it was a year ago, coming down past his jaw and almost to his neck.

  A badass appearance that was a little too styled, right down to the too-tight, hand-distressed leather jacket that adorned his tall, muscular frame.

  But underneath the Hollywood good looks was an absolute monster. Riker knew it, and the other shifters did, too, which made Rock an excellent enforcer once the Brawl started.

  “Looking good, bro,” Riker said only half sarcastically, pulling on his own worn leather jacket to combat the chilly breeze Rock brought in.

  “Thanks,” Rock replied with his trademark smirk, one corner of his mouth upturned slightly more than the other, creating a dimple. “Same to you.”

  “It’s low maintenance,” Riker said, picking up the lockbox and the book. “Whereas that…” he added, motioning to the designer crap his brother was wearing over his overly toned, overly tanned body. “That the in thing in Hollywood right now?”

  “A bear’s gotta make a living out there.” Rock smiled, unbothered by his brother’s grumpiness, as usual.

  “You’ll make plenty this week.” Though to be fair, none of the brothers did this for the money. Or needed it.

  The Bear Canyon Brawl was their heritage. A long-standing tradition for generations, heralding back to when the Brawl was just a bunch of bear shifters getting together to let off steam and challenge for dominance in the area.

  Now it was a huge regional event, drawing bear shifters from all over. And it fell on just Riker and his brothers to make sure everything ran smoothly.

  So one week a year, their mountain was totally invaded by bear shifters, and the rest of the year, it was Riker’s job to keep the small town of Bear Canyon going so there’d be a place for the Brawl to come back to again.

  “Where the hell is Ryland by the way?” Riker asked.

  “You know him. On time for everything but this.” Rock shrugged.

  “Yeah, well, we don’t pay like his big corporate job,” Riker muttered.

  The shop door swung open, and Ryland strode in. “It’s not all about money.” He looked even more out of place than Rock, with his sharp, custom-tailored gray suit and short, rich-brown hair swept to the side, revealing unique grey streaks next to a very young face. “But yes, compared to what I make the rest of the year, this is practically charity work.”

  “Ah, a gracious donation from the fancy venture capitalist,” Rock muttered. “So nice of you to descend from your throne to associate with us peons.”

  “Shut up, both of you,” Riker said.

  Rock strode over and circled Ryland, eyeing his outfit with amusement. “What is this?” he asked, poking at the suit like it was an insult to bear kind, which it was.

  Ryland shoved Rock away, and Rock put up his hands, grinning.

  “Lose the suit,” Riker said. “You want anyone to take you seriously?”

  “Of course I do,” Ryland snapped. “I didn’t have time to change since my flight was late. But don’t worry. I’ll be all grunged up and ready to meet the fresh meat tomorrow.”

  Ryland plopped down a large, dark duffel and gave his brothers quick, brusque hugs, and then they all sat down at the table to discuss the business that had brought them together.

  “Here’s the accounting I’ve done so far,” Riker said, handing everything over to Ryland. “I’m sure you can fix anything I’ve messed up.”

  Ryland nodded. He was a genius with numbers and even did the books for Riker’s small custom business. The brothers liked to tease him about how far his brain had gotten him, but he’d helped them both with investments over the years. And given how out of control Ryland’s bear was, it was better for him to stay more in touch with his human side anyway.

  “As for you, here’s the roster,” Riker said, pulling a thin notebook out of the inner pocket of his jacket and handing it to Rock. “A lot of familiar faces in there. Get in there; get friendly. Be Mr. Popular, as usual. The less asses we have to beat the better.”

  Rock nodded as he looked over the names. He was good at making friends with people, setting them at ease. And as he got to know the contestants, he’d be the best one to make a call on whether they needed a beating for stepping out of line. And the best one to deliver that beating.

  “I’ve made notes on the ones you’ll want to keep an eye out for,” Riker said. “Just in case you don’t remember. And don’t be afraid to step in as needed. I don’t want them fighting outside the ring.”

  “You got it,” Rock responded, sounding a little overeager at the prospect of someone breaking the rules, thus giving him the chance to pound them into submission.

  “And lastly—” Riker said but was interrupted by the door to the shop slamming open so hard it sounded like it might break off its hinges.

  Immediately, all three brothers stood and turned. The bear inside Riker growled at the approach of unwelcome guests. Just the beginning to another of the worst weeks of his life.

  “Hey, it’s the Brolin brothers!” a man sneered drunkenly as a small group of men sauntered into the shop.

  “The bar’s down the road, boys,” Riker said.

  “You shouldn’t be seeing the judges the day before the event,” Ryland said. “It’s against the rules.”

  “We’re tired of the rules,” the tallest of t
he group said as he stepped forward. “We came to say you ain’t running everything this year. And we go where we want.” He stepped forward menacingly, and Riker frowned. Every year there were a few guys who just had to start fights before the Brawl even began.

  Rock twitched beside him, muscles flexing, ready to put the drunken grunts in their place.

  Riker put out a hand, motioning for him to wait. “Just go home, boys. It’s not worth it.”

  “Hey, look. The money’s there. We could just take it,” the leader said, eyeing the the lockbox next to Ryland. “Screw the tournament; screw everything, you pompous dicks. You think you’re so much better than us. That you’re above it all just because we fight and you watch. You’re no better than us with your fancy suits and shit!” The man ranted, his words becoming increasingly incoherent as he went on.

  Riker could sense his youngest brother tense at the last remark. And even though Ryland didn’t often resort to violence, Riker knew any fight his brother started, he finished. Hard.

  “Nobody forced you to come,” Ryland said sharply. His eyes were dangerously cold.

  “I got this,” Riker said, backing his brothers down before they painted the walls of his beloved shop red with the blood of the incumbent assholes. As he strode toward the front of the group, he cracked his neck by rolling it to the left, then right, then cracked his knuckles.

  The drunks, either stupefied by alcohol or emboldened by numbers, snickered as Riker approached, and the head of the group stepped forward in challenge.

  The man opened his mouth to say something, but before even a single word got past his lips, Riker hit him with a powerful punch to the jaw, sending him reeling backward.

  Several of his companions rushed at Riker, but he knocked them out of the way with a few well-placed elbows, sending them sprawling back onto the ground. Those that didn’t attack stepped backward to let Riker through.

  The man, now covering his face as blood poured from either his mouth or nose—either way, Riker didn’t care—was caught unaware as Riker grabbed the man by the neck. He lifted him into the air and then slammed him down onto the ground on his back, the floorboards splintering under the impact.

  With a loud grunt, the man pounded the ground, but before he could get up, Riker shoved his heavy, steel-toed boot onto the man’s chest. He struggled to get free, but the harder he resisted, the harder Riker pressed, until he finally stopped. All around them, his cowardly drinking buddies gaped in shock.

  “My town. My rules,” Riker commanded as he leaned over the drunk, enjoying the way his foot rested squarely on the man’s chest. “Welcome to Bear Canyon, bitches.”

  Ana stomped her way through the underbrush, trying to ignore the ache of her backpack weighing her down.

  Corey, you asshole.

  No, that was too kind a word for the man who’d dumped her in the woods on what was supposed to be a romantic vacation that would make everything better for them.

  Yes, things had been rough for months and gotten worse in the past few weeks, but she’d never expected he’d been cheating.

  Or after being confronted about it, he would leave her in the woods with nothing but their camping gear and no way to get home.

  She checked her phone for the millionth time and sighed. Still no reception. She hadn’t worried about it because Corey’s carrier got service up here. Now she realized that had been a mistake.

  Quitting her job and putting her dreams on hold to help support him with his stupid DJ career that never went anywhere was also a mistake.

  Falling in love with him had been the biggest mistake of all.

  She kicked small sticks out of her way with righteous vindication as she trudged over the small mountain path that looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. She knew there was some sort of town around here, way up in the mountains, some hokey village named Bear Canyon or something like that.

  But until she found herself alone in the woods, unwilling to stay at a campsite that just reminded her of what a jerk she’d dated, she hadn’t planned to visit.

  Now she had nothing to do but hike, and even as the trail got steeper and narrower, with the trees closing in and jagged rocks biting at the toes of her hiking shoes, she was determined to get to her destination. There, she would hopefully find a phone, call her sympathetic friends, and go have a cry over a nice cup of warm coffee. And never go camping again.

  Not that she minded being in the woods. In fact, right now, with afternoon sunlight streaming through the trees and beautiful mountain views all around her, it was refreshing enough to almost make her forget how bad everything had gotten.

  A tiny, ashamed part of her wished she’d never looked over when his phone had dinged while he was setting up their cookstove.

  But no, it was always better to know. The truth was worthwhile, no matter now much it hurt, and all she could regret was not knowing it sooner.

  Now she could get back to repairing her life and figuring out where she wanted to go in a life with no man in it. She would simply hang around with her girlfriends, who loved her, and try to forget. And stay away from men for a while.

  Heck, with her bad judgment, maybe she should just stay away from men altogether.

  She came over the top of a hill and brushed her sweaty, red hair out of her face as she started down the next little canyon that led to another, taller hill. Overall, she was rising in elevation, and the breeze up here through the trees was wonderful, even if she was growing tired.

  She heard male voices faintly carried on the wind and froze. She pushed aside the tree branches blocking her narrow path and looked through them as she crested the hill.

  She’d found something all right, but it wasn’t what she’d expected. Instead of a town, she saw what looked like an event site in a dirt clearing. She saw a huge ring off to the side, with tons of men gathered around it. They were still a good way from her, so she crouched and hid against one of the trees, squinting to see what was going on.

  Aside from the large ring with the crowd around it, there were a couple tents in the distance and, beyond that, more mountain trail. Perhaps the town was up there. Or perhaps she’d gone the wrong way.

  She heard a loud growl and flinched, turning back to the ring, which was fenced in on all sides by high, heavy duty metal.

  The crowd let out a cheer, and she wondered if her eyes were just fooling her or if the men in the crowd really did seem larger than usual.

  Another hair fell in her face, and she bit her lip as she undid her hair tie, pulled her hair back as tight as she could, and retied it, all the while keeping her eyes on the scene by the cage.

  But who was fighting there, and why? Was this something mountain people did? Illegal cage fighting?

  Another roar sounded, and Ana felt a sick feeling inside. That sounded an awful lot like an animal. They couldn’t be…

  She snuck along the ground, moving in the direction of the ring while still staying in the cover of the woods. Hopefully no one would notice her, and she could get a closer look.

  Another roar rent the air, and she looked up from her crawling to see a furry head rise above the crowd, white teeth flashing in the sunlight. Was that a… bear?

  Either that or her coffee had been laced with something hallucinogenic.

  She scrambled back on her hands, pushing herself back from the sight as her brain tried to comprehend it. All she’d wanted was a ride home. All she’d wanted was to avoid men and heal from this whole thing.

  Instead, she was alone in the mountains, and there was a giant crowd of men between her and the town she needed to get to, presumably.

  Tall, angry-looking men who were watching a totally illegal fight between animals.

  She heard snapping in the woods and jumped, looking around her. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. Maybe she should just go back to the campsite and wait for reception. Maybe—

  But as she stood and started to creep away, she heard voices coming closer.

&
nbsp; “I smelled her. I’m certain,” a low voice said.

  She jerked and started back toward the way she came, ready to run full speed once she was back on the trail, but she felt her arm brutally caught from behind, nearly yanking her off her feet as she stopped.

  She whirled around, jerking her arm free from her surprised attacker, whose face changed from glare to grin as he looked down at her.

  She slowly moved her eyes up his massive body until she reached his grizzled, bearded face. Her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her. The men here were giant.

  The men behind him grinned and came closer, a deadly semicircle that made her wish she didn’t have on a heavy pack and wonder if she could ditch it fast enough to get out of there.

  “Hold on, now,” the one in front said, stroking his beard. “We don’t mean to hurt ya none.”

  “Yeah,” one of his buddies said from behind him. “Just wanted to see what you were doing here.”

  “No place for a lady,” a third said mockingly.

  A chill went down to her toes. Despite the friendly note in their tones, with her backpack on, she felt like a turtle approached by hungry lions. The one in front looked especially ready to eat her, his dark eyes gleaming as he stepped forward rubbing calloused hands together.

  “I was just leaving,” she said, stepping back and looking over her shoulder for the best route. “I think I got lost.”

  She turned to run but hadn’t taken two steps before the man was in front of her with just a rustle of the grass around them.

  How had he moved so quickly?

  He caught her hand and pulled her against him, easily stymying her struggles as she pushed against his rock-hard chest. “Calm down, sweetheart,” he said. “Hell, we can use someone like you around here. Lots of hungry boys.”

  “I don’t care,” she spat. “Eat this.” She brought up a knee, hitting him squarely in the groin, and he bent forward, releasing her. Before she could run, two of his friends were in front of her, blocking her way. They walked forward, trapping her as their friend recovered.