BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)

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BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) Page 97

by Parker, Kylee


  She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, wondering how she’d lived her life this long without them. Darren put his hands gently on her shoulders and steered her away from the tree, back to their picnic blanket. She cried, letting him guide her.

  He helped her sit down and pulled her against him.

  That same warmth that she’d started to associate with him, the hum that always filled her when she was with him, was stronger now than ever. She thought of her dad, who had always told stories. Of her mom who had nearly died when her dad had. Of Murray who’d believed in her even when she’d felt the danger more than the others.

  Bruce, who had been the reason she’d felt it all.

  The memories pulled out the deep corners where she’d shoved them, and one by one they played like a film reel. She sat there for a long time, she didn’t know how long. Darren let go of her, and suddenly it all ended.

  She dropped her hands and looked up. The night was bright with the tree, all the candles lit and couple and families sitting, looking at it. But the snow was fake, the candles were burning for people she didn’t know.

  She looked at Darren. He looked at her, his blue eyes bright, an expression on his face she hadn’t seen before.

  “Sorry,” Jenna said, feeling like she’d made an ass of herself. She didn’t even know where that rush of sorrow had come from.

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” Darren said. But he was too bright, too cheerful. Something was wrong.

  “Is it alright if we head home?” she asked. She wanted suddenly to get away. She didn’t know from what, and she thought maybe it was from the atmosphere, the mourning in the air. Darren nodded and got up like he didn’t care that their night was being cut short. He packed up the basket, folded the blanket over his arm.

  “Shall we?” he asked and started walking to the door. Jenna watched him go, feeling like something was out of place. She realized he hadn’t bothered to give her his arm.

  She walked after him. When they got in the car he put on the radio, as if trying not to talk. Twice she tried to put her hand on his on the stick shift, but both times he took his hand away. It was like he was avoiding touching her now.

  “Is something wrong?” Jenna asked.

  Darren looked at her, his face illuminated by the passing streetlights.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said brightly. “I just want to get you home and warm.”

  But she wasn’t cold. Not on the outside. With Darren’s warmth suddenly gone, she was only cold on the inside.

  He dropped her off and kissed her, not on the lips but on the cheek.

  “I’ll call you, okay?” he said. Jenna nodded, but she felt lost like she suddenly didn’t belong. Darren pulled off and she watched the taillights of his car disappear around the bend before she turned and unlocked the apartment door.

  She fumbled in the dark, getting rid of her coat and her handbag before she flicked the light switch. The light came on, flooding the lounge area with the yellowish light that came from cheap light bulbs. When she turned someone was sitting on the couch.

  Jenna yelped and jumped back, her whole body going numb before she recognized Bruce. He sat leaning against the couch with his face turned so she could only see half of him, but it was definitely him.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” Jenna cried out, clutching her hand to her chest, her other hand flat on the wall behind her.

  “Sorry,” he said. He turned so that he was facing her full on and the light fell on his whole face.

  She clasped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, Bruce,” she said through her fingers. “What happened to you?”

  There was a bruise on his temple that spread an ugly purple across his forehead and down the side of his face. Blood was matted in his hair although she couldn’t see any kind of wound, and when he looked at her he looked like he was struggling to focus.

  “I’m not healing as fast as I should,” he said. “It’s because they got me.”

  He was babbling and she didn’t understand what he was talking about.

  “Let me help you with that,” she said, moving toward the kitchen where she grabbed a washcloth and wet it. Jenna had always been good in pressure situations. It was easier to get up and do something about it then feel sorry for yourself. Now she moved and did something because she was scared she would feel sorry for Bruce and fall right back into the trap that being head-over-heels had gotten her in the first place.

  Bruce winced when she put her hand on his good cheek like it hurt all over.

  “Do you have a headache?” she asked. He squeezed his eyes instead of actually nodding, which confirmed it. Jenna dabbed the wet cloth around the bruise, searching the hair for the wound that had caused all the blood. She couldn’t find it.

  “What happened?” she asked, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

  “They got to me,” he said again.

  “Who? The Family?”

  Bruce made an expression that almost looked like a smile, but then he winced again when she touched the bruise.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “It’s not the Family,” Bruce said. “It’s the Assassins. When they get to us we heal slower than normal – it’s something they manage to work in our immune systems so we’re easier to kill.”

  Jenna was quiet for a while, just cleaning Bruce up. Her mind was full of everything that was, everything that had to do with the shifters and the Assassins and the secret war that went on between them. A year ago, hell four months ago, she’d known nothing about this.

  “I didn’t realize the Assassins were so close,” she said finally. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

  “It had nothing to do with luck,” Bruce said, and something about him changed. He became intense, his eyes darkened and that wild side of him showed again, the side that she now recognized as his animal.

  ‘They’re keeping me alive so that they can find the Family and kill all of us.”

  “How can they do that?” Jenna dropped her hand with the washcloth. The tip was a reddish brown from the dried blood, but she hadn’t found a wound at all.

  Bruce turned to her, his shoulders square with hers. He took her hands in both of his.

  “They’re using our bond to track me. If they kill me they won’t be able to use you.”

  Jenna tried to make sense of what he was saying. Bond? Track?

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “We have a bond because we’re mated. Married. It’s how you found me in the woods when you found out I was a shifter. It’s how I ended up finding you here. It’s because we’re together. Bound.”

  “But we’re not together,” Jenna said softly, and she could almost hear the hurt in Bruce’s intake of air. This was why she’d left. Because she knew that her union with Bruce would ultimately hurt either one, or both of them. She hadn’t meant it in a bad way. She’d just meant it in a practical way.

  When Bruce spoke again his voice was strained.

  “Whatever we are, the bond is still there. They’re using your bond, your knowledge of us, to track us.”

  “I don’t know any Assassins,” Jenna said.

  Bruce took a deep breath, like what he was going to say next was hard.

  “You’re spending time with an Assassin, Jenna,” he said, and his words hit her like physical punches.

  “What?” she managed to ask, but even as she did she could feel her anger growing. It started like a small lump of coal in the pit of her stomach, and grew, getting heavier and bigger.

  “That man that you’re seeing, he’s an Assassin. He did this to me.” Bruce pointed at his face. Jenna got up and walked away from Bruce, like turning her back on him would make it all go away. A thought struck her and she turned to him, eyes narrowed.

  “How long have you been following me?” she asked.

  Guilt flickered across Bruce’s face, which made Jenna think that it wasn’t just that Bruce had come to town to pay her a vis
it.

  “Dammit Bruce, I know we’re still married, but this is not acceptable. I have my own life, my own friends.” Which really just boiled down to Darren. “You can’t just waltz in here and tell me that the one person I actually enjoy spending time with is just using me.”

  Bruce looked like he was searching for words. “I’m not just doing it to be spiteful, Jenna,” he said. “If you don’t want to be with me, then fine. I’m not going to force you. You could, in fact, have told me you wanted to leave and I would have let you go, made sure you were safe. Instead of running away like a thief in the night without saying goodbye.”

  Jenna stared at Bruce. Would it really have been so easy?

  “I’m not giving Darren up, Bruce,” she finally said. It wasn’t an answer to Bruce’s statement. It wasn’t anything except a low blow and it showed in Bruce’s face. Jenna felt bad. She felt guilty about what she’d been doing, and she felt guilty about hurting Bruce – when she left, and now.

  But he wasn’t going to sit on her couch, uninvited, and tell her who to date. Or be friends with. Or whatever.

  “He’s dangerous, Jen,” Bruce said, getting up. “You have to stay away from him. Not just for the Family’s sake, but for your own. Once he’s gotten what he needs from you, he might not just let you go. The Assassins don’t care who gets in the way when they go on their killing sprees.”

  Jenna pursed her lips together, swallowing down the insults that she knew would just hurt Bruce that much more. She shook her head slightly, and only when she trusted herself did she speak again.

  “I’m sorry how things worked out, Bruce,” she said. “I’m sorry you got hurt and I’m sorry that being with me made all of this worse somehow. But it’s over now. I don’t want any part in this. Please just leave me alone.”

  Bruce’s voice was pleading when he spoke again. “If you send me away now, not even the bond can protect you. Saying it out loud will revoke my protection over you. The bond will still be there, but I won’t be able to keep you safe.”

  “I’m not asking you to keep my safe, Bruce,” Jenna said. “I’m asking you to let me go.”

  Bruce looked like Jenna had stabbed him. His face twisted in a mask of pain and he doubled over, holding onto his stomach. His breathing became ragged and for a moment, she was scared something was really wrong with him. But then he straightened himself up, and she watched as he pulled himself together again. She saw him rebuild himself in front of her eyes.

  “If that’s what you want, Jenna,” he said and his voice was flat and lifeless. Just like his eyes. “But you have to listen to what I’m saying about this Darren of yours. He’s going to hurt you. I want to save you, even if I can’t have you. Please, just stay away from him.”

  He didn’t say any more than that. Jenna expected him to put up more than a fight. He had, after all, married her. How could he just let her go? But that was what she’d wanted, right? To be free of him?

  He walked toward the door and let himself out. When the door clicked shut the sound echoed through the apartment and she was aware of how empty it was, how small she was in the middle of it.

  She’d just watched Bruce walk out of her life. Why did she feel like she was falling apart?

  Chapter 5

  Bruce left El Verano behind. His feet were heavy, but his heart was heavier. There was no reason now to shift into a bear, to keep track of the bond. He didn’t need to look for Jenna anymore.

  He got on a bus and traveled North, away from the Assassin that was spending time with his wife, away from the woman that didn’t want him. The bond was stronger than it had been the whole time he’d been searching for her. Great. Just when Bruce wished he could forget about her forever, she was going to be a constant reminder in his gut.

  As long as she was alive he would feel her. As long as he was alive he would pine for her. That was what a mated male did when he lost his female.

  But there were other things to worry about now. The Assassins had sent him a warning. He hadn’t died because they were going to use Jenna. And she hadn’t listened to his warning, so they were going to come. If he tried to stop them, they were going to kill Jenna.

  He knew that Darren would keep his word.

  The only thing that was left now was to get back to the Family and warn them. They had to prepare for battle and hope to God that they were going to make it out on the other side alive.

  Traveling home took less time, and at the same time, it felt much, much longer. He dreaded going back to his cave. He dreaded passing the town where Jenna had lived. But he had to go back. Dwayne’s words hit him full on.

  Are you willing to give all of us up for her?

  Bruce realized that in a way it was exactly what he’d done. Not intentionally. Not outright. But in a few days, come full moon, all hell was going to break loose, and they might all die. All because he couldn’t let go of a human woman.

  Bruce was suddenly angry. The anger was so sudden and so intense that it felt like it physically shoved him. He was so angry with Dwayne. If he had been able to foretell that Jenna would be Bruce’s downfall – the whole Family’s downfall – why hadn’t he said something before? Bruce was going to find the psychic and work him over.

  When the bus deposited him at the dirt road that led up into the mountains and to Williamsburg, Bruce ran into the trees. He didn’t follow the dirt road, and when the bus was gone and he was sure he was alone, he shifted. In bear form, he felt loose and free.

  For the first time, he was relieved that he felt less emotion as an animal. The bond was an annoyance, nagging at him as he ran like a string was tied to his foot, but he ignored it and kept going.

  It was still daylight, a dangerous time for him to be running so close to town, but he was going to be quick in passing it.

  He made his way up the mountain side, pushing through bushes and shrubs, yanking out small trees. He left a trail of destruction behind that mimicked the devastation he felt on the inside.

  The sun was low on the horizon. The night was on its way, Bruce could feel it. He wanted to get to the damn human that called himself one of the shifters before the others were alert.

  Bruce made it to the plateau. He heaved and panted, making groaning noises. He scraped the ground with his paw, claw marks making grooves in the dirt. When he realized he was alone, he let out a long growl that ended up sounding sad rather than angry.

  And that just pissed him off more.

  Dwayne came out of the trees as if summoned. If he knew what was going to happen, he didn’t show it. He looked at Bruce’s bear, blinked as if surprised. Bruce didn’t wait. He stormed the man, shoved him against a boulder with his paw against his throat.

  Dwayne kicked and fought and his throat made scraping sounds as he tried to suck in air around Bruce’s paw, but there was too much anger inside of Bruce to let up.

  He couldn’t scream and shout at Dwayne as a bear. Generally, he stopped doing whatever he did, stopped his emotions and focused when he needed to change, but not this time. He was too angry, and he didn’t want Dwayne to get away.

  So with the rage still burning inside him, bitter on his tongue, and his paw against the man’s throat, Bruce shifted.

  The change was awkward. He ended up bent forward, head level with Dwayne’s chest. But his hand was still around the man’s throat and all that rage was right where it had been before.

  Some things didn’t change during the shift.

  “You have made my life a living hell, do you know that?” he sneered at the psychic. Dwayne’s eyes were calm. His hair had come undone when Bruce had grabbed him and it hung in dark strands over his shoulders, but save for the hair Dwayne looked calm and peaceful.

  “I know you’re angry, Bruce,” he said in a calm voice.

  “Don’t you dare tell me what you know and don’t know,” Bruce said and he realized he was yelling. Well, if anyone else wanted to come and hear it, good. The sun was below the horizon now and the night was coming. The
others would come out soon.

  “You couldn’t just have told me beforehand that this would be a living hell, and then I would never have saved her?”

  Dwayne didn’t look surprised or confused. Instead, he just nodded.

  “There are times when I have the same questions. When I wonder why I only saw what I saw when it was too late. No one likes to hurt.”

  Bruce wanted to crush Dwayne’s windpipe and watch the man drown in his own blood. Maybe then he would feel the way Bruce was feeling, like everything that meant life had been ripped out. But he didn’t, because Dwayne was Family. It went deeper than blood that you didn’t hurt Family.

  Bruce felt other emotions push up in his throat, drowning the anger out, but he was more afraid of sorry and pain than he was of anger. He tried to bring it back, tried to conjure up the rage he’d felt a moment before.

  “It’s okay, Bruce,” Dwayne said, and suddenly Bruce wanted to cry. He swallowed hard. He was so not doing this in front of a Family member. Great big bear shifters didn’t cry.

  “She will be safe,” Dwayne finally said. “I can’t tell you that she will find her way home. I can’t tell you that you will survive this. I can’t tell you because I don’t know. What I do know, I say. But what I can tell you, is that this is not the end.”

  Bruce heard a twig snap, and when he looked over his shoulder the rest of the pack had assembled. They were all watching him strangle Dwayne, Tara included. She stood to the side, looking fierce and wild, and… bored. Bruce turned his attention back to Dwayne. It seemed ridiculous now, standing there with his fingers wrapped around his throat when he didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

  He let go and Dwayne found his balance. He rubbed his throat with his hand and took a deep breath like he was testing if it still worked right.

  “No,” Bruce said in answer to Dwayne’s statement. “This is just the beginning.”

  “Well, nice to see you finally decided to join us,” Tara said when Bruce had turned away from Dwayne and made his spectacular comment. “Was the human a disappointment?”

  Anger started up again in Bruce, an itch at the back of his skull that he couldn’t scratch, but he let it slide.

 

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