Bear In The Rough: Book 1: Treasure Hunt (BBW Bear Shifter Romance)

by Foster, L.

  She laid the phone back down on the counter and drummed her fingers. She laid her head on her hand and stared out the bay window. It was indeed a beautiful day outside, the perfect day to take her shoes off and let her hair out of the confines of the bun it seemed to perpetually be in. She could walk in the sand barefoot, wrapped in the knitted, oat colored shawl, with the wind in her hair and bits of ocean spraying her sun-kissed skin, just like she had seen her mother do nearly every day. It was so hard to believe that they were both gone, and know existed only in her memory, in her memory and in the house.

  She daydreamed about going down to the beach for a bloated moment, but knew she shouldn’t dare leave the house. Andy could show up and any minute, and if he noticed that she wasn’t there, he would simply leave without saying a word to her, no note, nothing, and who knew when the next time she would hear from him would be. She loved her brother, but had always been irked as to how he went about things, his carelessness. He had no concept of limits, whether it was money, or time. He had always thought that he had all he needed and would spend them both freely, until he didn’t.

  It had been the biggest difference between them growing up, Andy was more of a free-spirit, and willing to drop even the most important task to have a little fun. Maggie, on the other hand had always been more cautious and controlling, almost to the point of being an over-achiever. It had not made her popular in high-school, but had benefited her all too much in adulthood, where as her brother struggled to even keep a roof over his head.

  She lifted her head from her hand, pressed the enter key on her computer and the screen came to life. She took another sip of her coffee, which had now become cold and began typing. There was nothing more she could do than just wait her brother out.

  Chapter Three

  “Andrew where are you?!” She said through her clenched jaw as the sun set in a purple haze along the coast.

  “It's now almost 6 o'clock, your phone is ringing, I know you're getting these.”

  She punched the talk button on the land line and threw the phone on the couch, sending it diving between the striped cushions. She had been switching between her phone and the land line, calling her brother incessantly for the past 5 hours, all to no avail. She was hoping that by calling him on the land line maybe she could trick him. She remembers when he was a kid he knew a code to make your number come up as private, but she had more dignity that that. She plopped down on the couch and lifted her large reading glasses over her brow, rubbing her eyes as they ran with tears from staring at the computer too long.

  She sat in the silence of the house, listening to it creak with the evening wind that swept in the scent of the tropical flowers that sat outside. The house creaked and shuddered, and she could hear the ocean, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was on a ship, with the background noise it wasn’t hard to do at all. She pictured the endlessness of the ocean in her distance, no land in sight for miles, she thought of a handsome man at the wheel of the mighty vessel, his jean pants tight and his black t-shirt form fitting. He would look not unlike the old footage she had seen of JFK on his boat, his hand to his forehead, his sparkling blue eyes twinkling in the sun. She saw herself in a red polka-dot bikini and a large straw hat. She had a fresh margarita in hand as she fixed herself onto a long beach chair, that handsome man staring at her the whole time. This was what she fantasized her life could be like, all she need was that one big break.

  She felt herself drifting further into her fantasy, started to see the edges of reality become distorted as she drifted off to sleep, when suddenly, the phone rang. She jumped from the couch, making a loud snorting noise and listened for the phone. She looked all over as it rang a third time, and then a fourth, and then a fifth. The message machine beeped as she remembered she had thrown in in between the couch cushions. She dove into the couch like an Olympian as her brother voice sounded off of the phone dock.

  “Hey Sista!!! You there? C’Mon! I know you’re there! Don’t be mad at me, I can expai-“

  She finally pulled the phone out of the dark abyss and slammed on the talk button, almost breaking her nail.

  “ANDY!” She yelled loud enough to make her voice echo, even on her end. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I'VE BEEN WAITING ALL DAY!!”

  She heard her brother chuckle on the other end of the line. She half wanted to punch him and half wanted to hug him, he sure did know how to worry a girl.

  “Listen, Mags,” He started, his voice sounding a little hesitant at first, she was just glad that he sounded half alive. “I got caught up with work, it’s a big project for a big client out in the middle of the desert and he don’t get any reception there, I’m able to call you now because I had to run out for food for the night.

  There was a long pause between them. Maggie listened to the sounds coming from his side of the line, she heard nothing. No voices, no cars, nothing. He really was in the middle of nowhere.

  “Well Andrew,” She stared, using his long first name to let him know she meant business, much the way her mother had done when they were children. “I’m very proud that you are doing so well and seem like you are taking care of yourself, but you have to understand that we made an agreement to meet up at the house this morning, and this is the first I’ve been hearing from you.”

  There was another bloated pause between them, she heard her brother take a breath to speak but cut him off before he could get the words out.

  “I don’t think you understand, the house was broken into Andrew, things were stolen. Dads tools, some of moms’ jewelry. They trashed the place and I cleaned it all up, as I always do. I thought the place was going to be packed up? I thought you had taken care of it?”

  She heard her brother stutter before he started. She felt a little bad, knowing that as his big sister, she always had the ability to frighten him.

  “Lis-listen Mags,” He said, almost yelling. “I’m sorry to hear about the house, that really sucks, and I was really looking forward to seeing you, I always do!” Maggie rolled her eyes and bit her tongue.

  “I’m telling ya!,” Andy continued, his voice shaking, “It’s just all these new jobs out here! I’m tellin’ ya, my friend really hooked me up! At this rate I’ll be able to buy my own house next year, it’s just I gotta work really hard right now for it.”

  Maggie squeezed her eyes closed and opened them, holding down all of the negative things she wanted to say to him in that moment. She reminded herself that this was her brother, and her was trying his best to recover. She was all he had left in the world, family wise, and she should take it upon herself to support him, not chastise him for not spending time with her. Maggie relented.

  “Ok, Ok, Andy,” She sighed, trying to sound as pleased as possible, “I’m proud of you, you know that, I was just worried. I was worried and I miss you, you jerk.”

  The two of them laughed.

  “I miss you too,” Andy said, his voice still sounding nervous.

  Maggie heard what sounded like the air compression of a truck on the other end of the phone, Andy covered the receiver and said a few mumbled words to an unknown man.

  ‘Maggie, listen, I gotta go,” Andy yelled into the receiver, Maggie could hear the commotion of other people in the distance.

  “Wait, Andy-“

  “Maggie, I left you a little present on your E-Mail, just do it, you deserve a vacation after all you’ve been through, and consider it part of me paying you back!” The phone began to cut out.

  “Andy?!” Maggie yelled, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

  “I love you sista!” Andy yelled, then the phone clicked.

  Maggie dropped the phone back onto the couch and raised both of her hands into the air.

  “Well, so much for that!” She said to the house.

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. After all she had done, how could he just ditch her like that? She thought to herself. She then remembered that it was her brother and he had been and always
would be Captain Space Cadet.

  But why did he sound so nervous? She wondered.

  Maggie shook her head, loosening the bun on her crown and letting her hair fall free.

  “Present?” She questioned to herself out loud and she picked up her black scrunchie off the carpet, “Email?”

  She stomped back over to her computer, her bare feet slapping against the floor. She pressed enter and the screen became bright. She pulled her glasses down to the edge of her nose and opened up her account.

  “You have 1 new Message!” The screen read, she clicked on the red exclamation point.

  “Ticket for 1 person, round trip, Deporting from LAX 7:30am, arriving in Aeropuerto Internacional , Mexico City, Mexico.”

  “What…...” Maggie whispered to herself she opened the E-mail from her brother.

  Her brother explained everything in the message he had said on the phone; he was busy, wanted to make it up to her. Maggie felt touched, albeit confused by her brothers’ sudden generosity. In the message he had also included booking information for a week-long stay at a beach front 5-star hotel, meals included.

  “Oh Andy,” Maggie sighed, only her brother would do something like this. He never quite understood that Maggie was not a spontaneous spirit, that much like the house she had grown up in she also was well put together, everything intentional, a place for everything and everything in its place, and nearly unbreakable. Her brother, on the other hand, was like the tide that existed right outside her back door; wild, unpredictable, and, at times, dangerous.

  She shook her head and hit the print button on the tickets. The printer whirred to life again in defiance of gods will.

  “Huh, two miracles today,” She said to the house.

  She closed her computer and pushed it in her bag alongside the copies of her script. She walked over to the printer and picked up the few papers that had fallen out. She read her plane ticket, she was to leave tomorrow morning. Typical Andy, she thought to herself, sending her on a last moment get away with only enough time left to brush her teeth and pack her clothes. He hadn’t have even bothered to ask her if she knew any Spanish, which she did, fluently. It was just the typical kind of thing he would do, impulsive, thoughtless.

  She slipped the tickets into her bag and made her way for the stairs, knowing that she had to start packing.

  “Well Mexico,’ She sighed, lifting herself up by drift-wood banister “Here I come!”

  To be continued....

  WEREWOLF HERO

  Part 1- The move towards Harborbooth

  My name is Daniel Alton. I know, that's not much of a name, not one for a heroic person really I guess. I guess even so by definition I'm not a heroic person at all either. In fact, I'm probably the last person anyone would expect to be a heroic person. To be honest, I never expected to do anything heroic in my life, not anything on this caliber anyways. I'm a typical American boy, all things considered. I'm 19 years old, and I'm a little on the average side, standing at around 5 foot, 10 inches tall, but a bit on the skinny side. Not "extremely fit" skinny either. Just a skinny guy, who's never gained any weight, who's tried in high school cause he wanted to play sports, but never could no matter what I did. A little bit different from my best friend at the time, Devon who was fat and couldn't lose weight. I got about medium length brown hair that I like to keep combed back, and thick rimmed glasses, partly due to some sight problems that I have. All in all, I'd have to say I'm average in every way. Who knew though, that after tragedy in my life that things would change so much, and change my perception of the world all around me. Dealing with supernatural elements, such as ghosts, vampires, and of course werewolves. I mean, why not werewolves right?

  I'm getting a little bit ahead of myself I think, so I'll start at the beginning of my story so that way those of you reading this can follow along with whats going on. Don't want to lose you after all.

  It all started several months ago when I first came to Harborbooth, in upper Maine. When I first rode into town, the weather was really dark, and also really gloomy. A sort of reflection on me at the time, as well as my Dad, Timothy Alton. We rode in on a moving truck, my Uncle Richard having driven ahead of us at the time with my Dads car, and for the last, thousand or so miles we really hadn't spoken a word to each other. Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad, that's the reason at 19 years old I decided to come live with him, because he needed me, but it was on the occasion why we didn't speak. None of us just felt we really could say anything to one another. That was alright, with the silence between us, it allowed me to focus on the pattering of the rain on the windshield as I just sort of sat there, thinking about what it was that changed. You see, my Mother several months before was murdered, in cold blood. Her murderer hadn't known her, but we lived in a part of a neighborhood that was less than influential. It wasn't a ghetto, but it wasn't a suburb either. It was just rows and rows of homes on the Northern side, and it was still away from where a majority of the gang violence was located. We thought we were safe, being just an average white family, in an average neighborhood with other average people of all races and denominations. We weren't a tight knit community, but we knew each other and we made the best we could with our lives looking out for everyone, even if sometimes people got to be a little busy body. All in all, average, in every way.

  What changed though was my Mother worked as a hair dresser, and a lot of times she worked as a freelancer hairdresser, taking on clients in her free time to bring in some extra income just so we could all eat well sometimes, more than just typical "burgers and hamburger helper.". Sometimes we'd get steak, sometimes really good ice cream, just that sort of stuff. Well, she found herself working on a woman somewhere on the North West side of town, a little ways out of Chicago proper, but still close enough to be in Chicago, and found herself in a trailer park like place. A little lower scale, but a client was a client, and she wanted to look nice for a job interview she was having. She paid my mother good money, and on her way out, some neighbors of the lady were having an argument. Well, three drunk people ended up having a fist fight, and were biker like people from some local motorcycle gang, I really can't tell you which one. Words were shared, guns were pulled, and those three being drunk they shot wildly at anyone who was in the area who could report the fight to the police, or even sneak up n them in an ambush. It just so happened my Mother got caught in the cross fire, and was struck. She died, on the way to the hospital I was told. The gang members that were part of the Biker gang pleaded no contest after being arrested, and I guess are currently sitting in jail for life. I don't really keep up with it, I let my Dad focus on that.

  Needless to say, life just sort of fell into an upheaval after that. We were a happy family before that. Not rich, but Dad worked a lot of freelance work between writing, IT, painting, yard work, bar tending, cooking, etc and brought in some pretty good money surprisingly while Mom brought in some good money dressing hair, and I was working part time at a Gas station, saving up for college to do something professional, still undecided. Now it's just me, and Dad, and I suspect him of being depressed. Often having found him crying sometimes at night when he thinks I'm asleep though I never say anything to him about it. After the funeral though, on a whim Dad decided we should just pack up and move to Maine, near where his Grandparents use to live and where he'd visit when he was a kid during the summers. He said we "needed to get out of the city. Somewhere far away from the violence, where it's just quiet, and we can be happy again.". So, looking on the internet he found a small cottage on the outskirts of Harborbooth for practically a steal. He said the landlord just mostly asked for us to pay utilities, and keep the place clean and to keep up with it's upkeep, which I think we can accomplish.

  Riding into Harborbooth though though wasn't so bad. Mostly making small talk, and avoiding talking to one another for the most was starting to take it's toll on us both, and there's only so much music you can listen to while being lost in your own thoughts that you can stand. We sort
of coasted in on top of a hill, overlooking the entire Bay, and the entire town was kind of nice, in a quaint little way. I guess it just looked like a lot of towns you'd expect from the New England area. Old, possibly conservative, sits on the ocean nestled up against the hills, with a bay, a pier, and everything. Main source of income is probably fishing. You can see all the historical buildings interspersed with the new buildings, and you can see the class distinctions in the area on who's possibly rich, and who's possibly not. Plus, a lot of forests as well that are still up, despite being in a developed area for nearly 300 years.

  That's not to say the town is bad of course. I guess I'm just a little on the cynical side. It did look like a lovely town. To describe it, I guess I can say it looks "round", meaning that it hugs close to the bay, which is almost perfectly spherical in a way. The buildings close to the waterfront are mostly brick and mortar, and wood, with the piers reaching out into the water like long fingers and lined to the brim with boats. Some of them looking more like rich yachts, and a lot of them looking more like fishing boats for working class fishermen. Moving up from there, the road and the main street sort of move out in a "T" fashion, with the majority of the traffic seemingly coming from out of town, possibly just passing through the town, or what I'd imagine a lot of people derisively call "tourists" that come and look at the old town that just happens to be old. The town also seems to be sort of built up in blocks that are of varying different levels on the hills, mostly seperated by streets and guard rails, while it looks like most of the business's that exist in the town are on the main street leading down to the waters edge, since that's where most of the traffic seems to converge with roadways leading back to various different residential area's, or gas stations interspersed here and there.