Outlaw of the Bears (Wild Ridge Bears Book 2) Page 3

  “Just be careful,” I said. “I might not always be there to come to your rescue.” My words felt hollow and a simmering rage bubbled inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to promise her I’d never leave her side. But, I had no right. I had nothing to offer her, and binding myself to her would only put both of us in even greater danger.

  “I might not always need you to.” She tapped her purse where she kept Martha. I resisted the urge to tell her that wouldn’t have done her any good tonight. She’d taken in a lot on faith already.

  “Good night,” I said, wanting to stay, but eager to finish my business.

  “Good night, Cullen,” she said. My name on her lips felt erotic. I wanted to hear her cry it out in the throes of pleasure I knew only I could give her. The bear rumbled in my chest and I felt my claws spring out again. I turned quickly and stepped out from under the glow of the porch light. I gave her a wave and started to walk down the sidewalk.

  As I reached the street, she called out to me. “Wait, you drove my car. How are you going to get home?”

  I let the noise from passing traffic drown out my need to answer then disappeared into the shadows. If she’d run to the end of her sidewalk just then, she wouldn’t have been able to find me. In the time it would have taken her, I was already three blocks away and running fast.

  My heart exploded with rage inside my chest. The Bluelight Lounge. She’d been there already, so it would be too easy to find. I knew every place she’d been in town now. It was nearly midnight before I found the place. I prayed it wouldn’t be what I suspected. But, by the time I saw the blinking blue neon sign on the corner of Main and Broad Street back in downtown Blackfoot, I knew my suspicions were more than right; the reality was worse.

  I kept to the shadows. Even being here was risky. I just hoped the bears who’d cornered Anya were so preoccupied with her scent, they hadn’t bothered to fix mine. I knew that was probably a long shot as the polar bear drew blood. Still, it was a chance I needed to take.

  Three drunk patrons, two men and a woman, staggered out of the bar laughing. They were human. Well-dressed. Harmless. One of the men looped his arm around the woman. A cab pulled up and they got in together. I crossed the street and peered through the bay window at the front of the bar. It was upscale for the neighborhood. The bar itself formed a large square at the center. A few late night customers sat at round, copper-topped tables. Two waitresses served drinks wearing off the shoulder short black dresses with wide, ruffled skirts. I could immediately see the draw. The girls were gorgeous, their cleavage on display as they leaned own and set cocktail napkins down.

  I pulled away from the window and thunked the back of my head against the brick wall. Tomorrow night, Anya planned on wearing that? She’d be there getting ogled just like those girls were. Jealous, protective rage flared within me at the same time my dick stiffened thinking how much I’d like to be the one ogling.

  My ears pricked as a deep voice boomed from somewhere down a hallway inside the building. I let out a hard breath and turned back toward the window. He came out a door on the other side of the bar. He wore a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up revealing thick, hairy arms. His red tie was slightly askew and he raised a hand to straighten it. Then, he ran a hand through his thick, white hair and barked an order to one of the bartenders.

  Another polar bear.

  He wasn’t the same one from the alley. This guy was bigger, but the scent off him, even from here, couldn’t be a mistake. He too had a clipped Russian accent as he asked the bartender about the nightly receipts. It wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. I clenched my teeth and let the growl rip through me.

  No wonder they couldn’t scent me. This place was crawling with werebears. And I’d bet my left leg the three that followed her came straight from this bar after she’d been here filling out her job application. They knew what she was the instant she walked through the door just like I did. Which meant Anya would never be safe. She was walking straight back into the bears’ lair.

  Chapter Four

  Anya

  Cullen filled my dreams. They were strange dreams. Something chased me, lurking in the shadows. I could never quite see who it was. But, every time, huge black eyes found me in the dark, beckoning to me. I ran toward it, following it as if those eyes were my true north. I woke facedown on the floor and covered in a cold sweat. It was almost noon.

  “Shit!” I stumbled as I tried to get up. The sheets had tangled around my legs. I must have tossed and turned all night. I thought the nightmares were over. I hadn’t had one in months, not since I’d finally made the decision to come to Blackfoot and get the hard answers I needed.

  I threw off the sheets and padded into the living room. Until I had coffee in me, there was no sense in even attempting to think straight.

  Cullen was right. He had to be. In the aftershock of nearly getting mugged last night, my eyes had played tricks on me. The wounds on his chest were no more than scratches. No one could heal that fast. As much as Cullen’s dark eyes followed me in my dreams, I saw another man’s too. His were blood red and filled with menace that chilled me to the bone. I had to have imagined that too. As the biggest of the three men advanced on me, of course my brain saw him as pure evil.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin as my phone rang. I’d thrown my trench coat over the kitchen table and it skittered across while my phone vibrated in the pocket. I snatched it out and tapped the screen. I let out a sigh when I saw the caller ID. I don’t know why I even bothered to look. She was the only one who really called me anymore. When I left Chicago to look for my sister, I’d done so against everyone’s advice.

  “Hi, Mona,” I said, trying to sound as chipper as I could. Mona Levy was the closest thing I had left to family. That is, once my sister disappeared five years ago. I swallowed past the ever-present lump in my throat waiting to hear the sound of Mona’s voice. As much as I loved her, talking to her always reminded me of the grief I tried so hard to keep at bay.

  “Hey, sugar!” Her voice was raspy after a lifetime of smoking Virginia Slims. She’d beaten cancer twice and figured it gave her a license to do whatever she damn well pleased from here on out.

  “You keeping out of trouble?” I asked her. It’s what I always said. Her answer back was always the same too. I mouthed it silently as she said it.

  “Trouble’s where all the fun’s at.” She laughed at her own joke and I laughed with her.

  “How about you?” she said. It was such a simple statement, like how are you. When anyone else said it to me, they would have just accepted my standard answer of fine. Mona knew better.

  “I’m getting by, Mona. And please don’t start.”

  “I didn’t start a thing, sugar. I just asked the question.”

  “I know. And no. I haven’t found out anything new. Not yet. But, I’m starting a job tonight.”

  I bit my lip to keep myself from telling her where. The Bluelight Lounge wasn’t just some bar. It was the last place my twin sister, Avery, had been seen alive. That had been five years ago. We’d grown up in and out of foster care. Most of the time, the state couldn’t place us together. So, we’d each spend a few months in a new home, then we’d run away and find each other. I’d been the lucky one. The people the state placed me with had been decent for the most part. I always had three square meals and a roof over my head if I wanted it. But, none of them would ever agree to take Avery too. It was her own fault, they’d tell me. She had a record, shoplifting mostly. Then she brought a knife to school and got expelled in the ninth grade. She was trouble most foster parents didn’t want to take on.

  Bad things happened to Avery that I’d been spared. She would never tell me the details, but she didn’t have to. We were identical twins, and there’d been no one closer to me in the world. Though I didn’t share the pain she suffered, I understood it. I could almost understand why she chose to run away that last time just three months before we turned eighteen. What I couldn’t understand
is why she didn’t tell me where she’d gone. She’d just left a note on a half sheet of notebook paper telling me goodbye and that she was sorry. She said I’d be better off without her and someday I’d realize why. I wouldn’t. Not ever. And I’d never stop until I knew for sure what finally happened to her.

  “When Avery wants to reach out, she will,” Mona sighed into the phone. It was a conversation we’d had at least a hundred times. And for the hundred and first time, I held back the true answer. The one she suspected but couldn’t bring herself to ask me for. They say twins, especially identical twins, have a connection or a sixth sense about each other. That was true for Avery and me and had been since the day we were born. I’d known the instant it happened although we were miles apart by then. It was almost one year to the day after she ran away. Four years, two weeks, and three days ago. I didn’t yet know the circumstances, but I knew in my bones that Avery was dead.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I told Mona. We each played the roles we’d assumed for each other. Mona had tried harder than anyone to advocate for Avery and me. She’d been assigned to my case when I was ten years old. I think if she could have, she would have adopted me herself. But at the time, Mona had been single, over sixty years old, and terminally ill. The best she could do was try.

  Mona started to cough into the phone and my heart dropped. She was cancer free for now, but at nearly eighty and frail from the battles she’d won, I knew I wouldn’t have her for long. “How about I plan a trip to come see you after the holidays?” I promised. I hoped I’d get the chance to make good on it. Mona could never talk too long on the phone because she’d lose her breath.

  “That’s a deal,” she said. “Horace got a new boat. Old fool. He can’t drive the one we’ve got. But, he wants to show it off when the grandkids come over. If you’re lucky he’ll let you take it out for a spin.”

  “I can’t wait.” Mona’s soft laughter on the other end of the phone worked on my heart. I missed her. I missed her family. But, in some ways she connected me to Avery in a way that just made me sad. Mona blamed herself for not doing enough. I didn’t. It just hung there between us every time we talked. Although I couldn’t bring myself to ever tell her what I believed about Avery, she knew how important it was for me to get closure. If I couldn’t bring Avery back, maybe I could find justice for her.

  We talked for a few more minutes. She told me about the weather in Chicago. We talked about her plans for Thanksgiving. She begged me to come join them at their cottage on Lake Bliss. I said maybe next year. She told me she loved me and I said it back. I said the same prayer I always did just after we hung up. I hoped the next time I talked to her, I’d have the answers about Avery that both of us craved.

  I was due to start my first shift at the Bluelight at five thirty. One of the more experienced waitresses was going to show me around. I’d interviewed with a hulking beast of a man named Arkady Constantine. Russian-born, Arkady spoke flawless English. He had a pair of piercing, pale blue eyes that unsettled me with the intense way he stared at me. I already knew the waitresses were afraid of him though no one said why. Tonight, I planned to find out if any of the people I met yesterday had worked there five years ago around the time Avery disappeared. It was a long shot, but it was as good a place as any. The only clue I’d ever had about where she’d gone came from a paycheck that got forwarded to our apartment by mistake from the Bluelight. That was over three years ago. I’d finally saved up enough money to take the next year off and try one last time to find her.

  When it was time to get ready for work, I pulled my waitressing uniform out of the trunk of my car. Arkady had looked me up and down, grumbled something monosyllabic and pulled a garment bag out of the closet and handed it to me. When I asked him if he needed my size he gave me a lewd smile that sent a chill down my spine. The sooner I got what I needed from the Bluelight, the happier I’d be.

  The dress looked more French maid than cocktail waitress, and I could tell why business was booming as I crammed my boobs into the bodice. I’d be lucky if one of them didn’t pop out if I bent over. I took off the necklace I normally wore and tied the black velvet choker around my neck that came with the getup and slid on a pair of low heels. I held my cheap necklace in my hand. It was a broken gold heart. When we were kids, Avery and I had cracked the heart in half and each of us wore a piece. We promised we’d never take them off, even when they turned our necks green. I put the heart necklace on my dresser and zipped up my skirt. As I smoothed my hands over my waistline, a stiff breeze picked up and blew through my bedroom curtains.

  Puzzled, I went to shut the window. I couldn’t remember leaving it open in the first place. Gooseflesh raised on my arms as I sniffed the air. Grabbing my purse, I made sure Martha was safely tucked in the hidden side compartment and headed out the door. My heels clacked against the cement, and I stopped to adjust one of my fishnets before getting into my car.

  There was blood on the passenger side window, three long stripes. Cullen’s blood. It had been on both of our hands when I helped him to the car. God, there’d been so much of it. How had he only just been grazed? As I put the car in reverse, I could still see his deep, brown eyes glinting at me the way they had last night and in my dreams. As we’d stood outside my doorway, I had wanted to invite him in. Every instinct in me told me I should. I felt an ache deep inside and when he touched me, no matter how slight, I wanted more. Foolish thoughts, though. I’d only been swept up in the drama of the night. I knew nothing about him. He could be just as dangerous as the three men who’d followed me into that alley. Something inside me told me he was exactly that. And yet, I still found myself craving his lips on mine. That kind of thinking could get me in trouble. I had to focus on the task at hand.

  The sooner I made contacts at the Bluelight, the closer I’d be to tracking Avery’s next move after she came to Blackfoot. I still had no idea how she’d even ended up here in the first place. It was a town in the middle of nowhere just northeast of the Kentucky border. She’d always said she wanted to live in California or somewhere where the winter winds didn’t come to chill her to the bone. I better than anyone knew how much that mattered. A few of those winters growing up, we’d spent them on the streets. I shook off the sad memories and pulled into the parking lot of the Bluelight.

  Tracy, the thirty-something head waitress, met me at the service door with a wary smile and a white apron in her hand.

  “I hope you can handle hitting the ground running,” she said. “We’re short staffed. One of our other waitresses quit last night. Arkady says we have an important group coming in.”

  I smiled and took the apron. Tracy had kind eyes and dyed black hair that she pulled into a topknot. From a distance, she looked flawless. Closer up, I saw the caked foundation covering the deep pores over her cheeks and around her nose. She painted her lips siren red. She eyed my own unruly red locks and I reached into my pocket to pull out a hair tie.

  “I wanted to make sure I wore it right,” I said, twisting my hair and piling it on my head like Tracy’s.

  “You’re a knockout,” she said. “They’re going to love you. Only I’m not going to have a lot of time to babysit you tonight. You told Arkady you’ve had experience?”

  I nodded. It was only partly true. I’d worked one summer as a barista. When Arkady asked, I made up a story about pulling double shifts for a year at an upscale restaurant in downtown Chicago. I just hoped I’d be able to pull this off tonight.

  “Word of warning,” Tracy said. “Arkady’s friends are high rollers, if you know what I mean. And handsey. They’re notorious for picking favorites among the new girls. They’re also easily bored. I can’t afford to lose another girl to a broken heart. My advice is stick to serving drinks. Find ways not to be alone with any of them.”

  Great, I thought. A hell of a sexual harassment policy. “I think I can handle it,” I said. Tracy gave me a dubious look as she nodded. And thus ended my training. She handed me a tray, showed me the
point of sale stations and sent me out on the floor.

  The good thing about my first night was Tracy was right and I caught on quick. We were so slammed I never had the chance to be nervous. I watched Tracy operate and followed her lead. I spilled one drink, mixed up one order, got my ass grabbed twice, but made two hundred and fifty dollars in tips. They had me scheduled two more shifts this week; at that rate, it would be hard to give up the job after I got what I came for. Arkady sat at the end of the bar all night watching every move I made with those cold blue eyes. At the end of the night, he snapped his fingers and gestured for me to follow him into his office.

  “Any words of warning about him?” I whispered to Tracy as I folded my apron and tucked it under the bar.

  She smiled and shrugged. “Yeah. Don’t piss him off and don’t become his favorite.” I couldn’t tell if that last bit was to protect her or me.

  Tracy slapped me on the back and headed out the door. I looked around. Arkady’s group of friends were the only table left and they were done drinking for the night. There were three of them. Tracy had served them and they sat at a table near the back. I’d ignored them most of the night, but now they fixed pointed stares at me. Like Arkady, they were huge men. One sat in the middle puffing on a cigar. So much for anti-smoking ordinances. After hours and friends with the boss, I figured they were exempt. The cigar smoker had a shock of white hair and cold eyes just like Arkady’s. I wondered if maybe they were related.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I said, trying to keep my voice light and pleasant. They unsettled me. An odd yet familiar fear made my nerves tingle. I couldn’t place it.

  “Don’t keep Arkady waiting,” the biggest one at the center of the group answered, his accent thick. “He doesn’t like it.”