Chapter 30
Sammy
I get home flushed with excitement at the thought of an adventure–and a secret–and rush into the house, ready to put together a plan for tomorrow morning.
I need to figure out how to get out of the house on my own before the men wake up.
I’ll have to steal Cam’s truck, but that’s not a big deal.
He won’t need it before breakfast anyhow, and I have a spare set of keys.
Hell, by the time he wakes up I might be home, with stories about my real dad and what he’s like.
I never see Bear until we’re sitting down for breakfast anyhow, so it’s not like he’ll miss me if I leave early enough.
This will be easy.
And I’ll be able to come back and tell them who I found and how much it means to me.
I have the glancing thought that this man might not actually be my father, and that even if he is, the meeting might not go as well as I expect, but I put that to the side immediately.
That won’t happen. My heart is screaming that he is who he says he is, and that everything is going to go the way I want.
Because this is my chance. I’ve been waiting all my life to meet my real dad, and I didn’t realize it until just today.
When another text comes from him, giving me a time and place, it seems to confirm what I’m thinking. I’m doing the right thing. I know it.
My first step into the kitchen, however, drives my father from my mind.
The place is thick with unspoken tension, Bear and Cameron sitting at the kitchen table staring at each other like they just got the worst news they’ve ever heard, and for a long moment I think they know what I’m planning.
They’re sitting there getting ready to talk me out of it, putting together their own plan for how to stop me, and I’ve just walked right into a trap.
Then Bear turns and looks at me, and I register both pain and anger in his eyes and realize that’s not directed at me. He would never look at me like that, not after last night.
“What happened?” I ask quickly, walking to the table and taking a seat like they’ve invited me.
Because these are my men. They’re my family and the most important people in my life, and if something is wrong, I’m going to sit down and help them figure it out.
Bear just looks down at his hands, so it’s Cameron who answers me.
“The council suspended him. He’s been ordered to turn in his badge.”
That... doesn’t make sense. The town itself just spoke out to give him another chance. Cameron and I stood up for him, and no one stopped us. The meeting disbanded without them actually doing anything. I look to Bear, confused.
“For what reason?”
When he looks at me, his eyes are more tired than anything else, his lips pressed together and his whole expression angry, but also resigned. “They don’t need a reason, Sammy, but they’ve given themselves one. They’re accusing me of instigating the fight at Penny Royal’s last night.”
What?
“But those men attacked me,” I whisper. “They trapped me in the truck and started shouting at me, telling me they were going to take me away. And who knows what they would have done if you weren’t there.
They could have killed me. You were doing your job!
And the council... They’re firing you for it? ”
Fired. There are so many repercussions, and I don’t even know the half of them, because I don’t know what’s in Bear’s mind.
He’s out of a job, though, and we already know Gunner isn’t going to give him another chance.
This is more trouble for Bear in Wood, and Gunner has already said he won’t welcome his brother into the business unless he’s cleaned up his reputation.
Taken care of all the drama, which he’s tried to do. But it’s nearly impossible when the council keeps throwing more at him.
But none of this makes sense. Surely there are people who saw those bikers surrounding me and trying to attack me. Mars and his whole gang were there, and I can testify as to what happened.
“It won’t work,” Bear says, watching the expressions cross my face. “They’re not willing to listen to anyone. It’s over, Sammy.”
It’s over.
I only know one outcome from that phrase, and it’s Bear leaving.
The thought is so painful it takes the breath right out of my lungs, and for a moment I can’t breathe.
Bear, gone. After everything we’ve been through in the last three months–the last week.
A day spent stuck in his car with him actually learning who he is.
A dog saved and potential coming home. The laughter we’ve found and the chemistry I can’t seem to get rid of.
The way he says my name when he thinks I’m not actually listening.
I want to fly at him, hit him for the acceptance I see in his eyes and the knowledge that he’s going to leave me just like everyone else has.
I want to scream and rage and fight, battle the world that keeps taking people from me.
Battle him for the decision he’s making to just give up and let it all go.
I want to yell into the void and dare it to yell back.
The way I normally would. The way I’ve done every other time the world tried to knock me down.
But right now, staring into the eyes of the man I hated a week ago and now don’t know how to live without, I don’t have anything but sorrow. A deep, aching emptiness inside me that feel deep and black and so, so lonely.
The tears start before I clock that they’re even coming, and my eyes well with the moisture of emotions I don’t know how to tamp down. I feel my lips pressing together and turning down, my heart hammering in my chest, and my skin going flushed and hot, and I hate every piece of it.
This man has been deserting me for most of my life.
He was here and then gone more times than I can count, and the truth is, we learned to live without him a long time ago.
We learned that we were better off when he wasn’t here, and that hasn’t changed since he came back.
He’s been nothing but a bully since he returned, making trouble for me and Cameron at every opportunity.
Until this week, when something changed and he started fighting with us instead of against us. Standing up for what’s right.
Standing up for us.
The memory of him in the vet’s office flashes across my brain, stark and heated with the joy in his eyes when we heard the dog was going to be okay, and that’s all it takes.
The tears flood my eyes and stream down my cheeks, dripping onto my chest like they have any right to be happening, and before I know it my shoulders are shaking, my lungs seizing with the need for something they can’t get.
My body hurts as if I’ve just been to war, and my heart. ..
My heart...
Is cracking down the center, fragile and broken as I’ve always known it is.
Bear’s head tips, his bright eyes growing two shades darker as they harden, and with one swift move he has me in his lap, my head cradled against his chest like I’m a fucking child.
He wraps his arms around me and presses me against his body, and though I want to fight it, want to hit him and force him to let me go, the warmth of him, the solid feel of him under my body, feels so much like safety that I sink into it.
I press harder against his chest and turn my face into his solid warmth, letting the tears come as they will.
“Shh,” he says, bringing a hand to my cheek and stroking me softly. “Don’t cry, girl. You’re not the one getting fired.”
“Don’t cry?” I ask, half sob and half laugh. “You’re getting fired.”
He chuckles. “Were you that attached to me being sheriff?”
I sit up and look at him, taking in the broad cheek bones and full lips, the indigo blue eyes framed with dark lashes. The man is a wonder to look at, a study of both light and shadow, and I suddenly wonder if he’s always looked like he’s carrying the world on his shoulders, or if that’s new.
And why I never noticed before.
I put my own hand up to his face and run my fingers along his cheekbone, the touch light and hesitant. He’s lived a hard life, this man. There are lines that shouldn’t be there, and skin that’s seen too many battles. His eyes are haunted, his mouth creased as if he’s keeping a secret hidden.
But he’s mine, and I can’t bear the thought of him leaving.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whisper.
His expression changes from sorrow to confusion, and then to something that looks like relief–and determination. “Where would I go when you’re here?”
Something shifts in me and suddenly I’m kissing him, my hands wrapped in his hair and his stealing around my back to pull me closer to him.
The kiss is deep and possessive, reckless with need, and I feel his teeth come down on my lower lip, his tongue fighting to force its way into my mouth.
I tilt my head and let him in, reveling in the hot, slick feel of him tasting me as I open wider to take him.
He’s not a gentle kisser. His kiss is intense and demanding, every move one of possession and domination, and within moments I’ve moved to straddle him, my knees on either side of his legs and my core pressing down on him.
He’s hard and heavy, his cock already prepared for me, and when I feel the steel length between my legs, my body floods with heat.
I come down on him and grind my hips, gasping at the sudden friction, and he gasps in time with me.
He moves his hands down to my hips and pulls me against him, groaning quietly into my mouth, and every nerve ending in my body seems to come alive.
My skin buzzes, my muscles going liquid with need, and I’m not even sure what my heart is doing.
Pounding like it’s trying to break out of my chest.