Chapter 5
FIVE
Fern
I wake up warm.
That’s the first thing I notice. Not the panic. Not the ache. Not the terror clawing at my chest the way it has every morning for the last decade.
Just warmth.
Soft sheets. A quiet room. No shouting. No slamming doors. No smell of alcohol in the air.
It takes my brain a second to catch up.
Oh. I’m not home.
The memories come rushing back all at once: the truck, the ropes, the forest, the gate. Jameson’s arms catching me. The porch. The fight. The way he cut the ropes from my wrists like it was nothing.
My heart stutters as I sit up.
Right.
I’m in Night Grove Falls, at Jameson’s house. I remember the doctor examining and bandaging me up.
I look around the room and wonder what to do now. I’m stuck in this house, in the middle of nowhere, so close to the men who wanted to take me. I need to come up with a plan.
I need to call Roxie.
I scramble out of bed and pad down the hall to the living room. Jameson is fast asleep, and I creep closer, studying his face. He’s so handsome. His dark brown hair falls over his forehead, and he looks so peaceful, not at all the intense, brooding man I met yesterday.
I hover over him, looking around for his phone so I can call Roxie.
“Fern?”
I yelp, jumping away from him.
Jameson sits up in a rush. I back up. My legs hit the edge of the armchair, and I tumble down onto the cushions.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I was looking for your phone so I could call Roxie.”
“Who’s Roxie?”
“My best friend.”
He rubs the sleep from his eyes, and digs in his pocket, pulling out his phone. I take it eagerly and return to his room. Hopping onto the bed, I dial Roxie’s number. She doesn’t answer, and so I call her again, and then again.
Finally, on the third try, she picks up.
“Hello?”
“Roxie! It’s me!”
“Oh, my god! Fern!” Roxie bursts into tears.
I start crying too. “I’m okay,” I tell her, sniffling.
“Where are you? I was so scared!”
“I’m in this little town called Night Grove Falls. I’m safe.”
“Your dad came by late last night.”
I tense. “What did he want?”
“He was so freaked out, Fern. Wanted to know if I knew where you were, but I didn’t. He kept asking me. He was so aggravated. I could have sworn he was almost… afraid.”
“He sold me to some men,” I tell her. “He drove me to the warehouse district and handed me over. Can you believe that?”
“I mean, I had a feeling he was going to do something shitty. But I thought he would kick you out or something. This is… insane.”
“I know.”
“Wait, if you’re safe, what happened?”
“I jumped out of the truck and landed on this guy. He took me home with him and called a doctor to bandage up my wrists and stuff.”
She laughs. “Talk about a meet-cute!”
“It’s not like that.”
She snorts. “Sure, okay.”
“We need to come up with a new plan,” I say, changing the subject.
“I’ll come there. We can find somewhere new to move to once I get there.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Let me get the address for you.”
I head back to the living room and wave to get Jameson’s attention. “What’s your address?”
He rattles it off to me, and I text it to Roxie.
“Okay, it says ten hours. I need to get packed up here and finalize some stuff. Are you going to be okay there for a few days?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”
“Can I call you on this number?”
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She hums. “Be careful.”
“I will. Let me know if my dad comes around again.”
“Will do,” she promises.
We hang up, and I pass the phone back to Jameson.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
I return to the bedroom and go into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I strip, sighing as I step under the spray.
I feel better now that I know Roxie will be here in a few days. My dad freaking out and asking her where I am is alarming, but I know Roxie won’t tell him anything. Soon, we’ll be back together, and we’ll figure out a plan from there.
I towel off and flex my fingers carefully. My wrists ache beneath the bandages, but the pain is dull now instead of screaming. Manageable.
I borrow some more clothes from Jameson, and my stomach growls as the scent of food drifts down the hallway. I follow the smell to the kitchen and stop inside the doorway.
Jameson stands at the stove in a dark T-shirt and worn jeans, broad shoulders filling the small space. He moves with easy confidence, like he belongs behind that counter, like this is normal. Like he makes breakfast for terrified strangers every morning.
Something low and warm curls in my stomach. My body reacts before my brain can catch it, and that… that makes me frown.
I’ve always been wary of men. Always. For as long as I can remember. Too many broken promises. Too many hands that weren’t gentle. Too many smiles that hid something ugly underneath.
So why does my pulse stumble at the sight of him? He may have saved me, but that doesn’t mean I can trust him.
I clear my throat.
He glances over his shoulder, eyes softening instantly. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I echo, still stiff.
“You sleep okay?”
I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah. I… yeah.”
He smiles faintly and turns back to the stove. “Good.”
He sets a plate down in front of me and sits at the table across from me. We eat together in a strange, careful quiet. Not awkward exactly. Just cautious. Like we’re both circling the same invisible line.
After breakfast, we sit on the porch. We’re silent for a long stretch of time before he clears his throat.
“Do you want to go into town? We can get you some things. New clothes.”
“Is it safe? What if someone sees me?” I ask.
“No one here will tell those men about you,” he promises.
“Okay,” I agree after a minute. “If it’s safe. I don’t have much money on me.”
“It’s on me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I protest.
“I know. I want to. Come on.”
He stands, and I follow him to the truck. He opens the passenger door and helps me in. I look out the window as we drive toward town, taking in the scenery.
“Do you remember anything about the men who drove you here? Did you catch a name or anything?” he asks.
“No, but they kept talking about some guy named Michael. He was going to be my husband.”
Jameson’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, and his jaw pops.
“They took the back roads the whole way,” I add quietly. “I never saw a city or any signs, really. Just… trees. Dirt roads. And that gate.”
The longer I talk, the darker Jameson’s expression becomes.
“They knew what they were doing.”
We park outside the general store, and Jameson hops out to help me out of the truck. He holds my hand as we head inside, and I stay close to his side as we make our way down the aisles.
“What do you think?” he asks, holding up two bottles of body wash.
“Whichever is cheaper.”
He frowns. “Which scent do you like better?”
“That one.” I point to the strawberry bottle.
We move to the shampoo and conditioner section next. We make our way up and down the toiletry aisle, and I grab face wash, moisturizer, lip balm, toothpaste, toothbrush, a brush, and hair ties.
The clothing section is tiny, but I’m able to grab some socks, underwear, sports bras, pajamas, shirts, a hoodie, and yoga pants.
“Thanks,” I say gratefully as we load my bags into the back of his truck.
“Don’t mention it.”
He helps me into the passenger seat, and we drive back to his house. He carries the bags inside, and I fold and stack them on the dresser.
“Are you hungry?” Jameson asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“We should talk.”
I turn to face him. “I really don’t remember anything else about the men who took me, or the one who bought me.”
“No, not about that. There’s something I need to tell you.”
My stomach twists. “Okay.”
He hesitates. “And… it’s not small.”
I clutch my hands in my lap. “Okay.”
He turns to face me fully. “There’s more to this town than you think.”
I wait for him to elaborate.
“There are shifters here,” he continues carefully. “Bears, like me, and wolves, rabbits, hawks, elk, all the animals.”
“I’m sorry? Shifters?”
He nods. “Shifters. Humans who can change between human and animal forms. In my case, I can turn into a bear.”
He says it so confidently that I can’t tell if he’s joking.
I blink once.
Twice.
Then I say slowly, “Right. Okay.”
He stiffens, not seeming to know what to do now.
That makes two of us.
“You’re… taking that better than expected,” he says.
“There are cults and kidnappings and secret rescue groups,” I reply dryly. “My life is crazy, and the guy I’m staying with is also crazy. Makes sense.”
“I’m not crazy. I’m telling the truth. I can prove it.”
“Sure, you can.”
“I can! Just… watch.”
He stands, and I stare at him.
Until he starts to strip.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” I shout, covering my eyes.
“I have to take my clothes off.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see in a second. Just look.”
I peek out from between my fingers to see him naked, and I slam my eyes closed. “Dude! It’s not cool that you keep trying to get me to see you naked.”
“I’m not. Just trust me and look for ten seconds.”
I debate whether I should trust him, then decide I have nothing to lose right now. I groan and drop my hands.
Jameson nods, and right in front of my eyes, he transforms.
One second, he’s standing before me on two feet, and the next, a giant bear is in his place.
“Holy shit!” I shout, scrambling back a few feet.
The bear rumbles low, taking a step closer to me. I back up another step and freeze as I stare at the giant animal.
“Okay, you’re not crazy,” I blurt.
A second later, the bear changes back into Jameson. He tugs on his clothes in a hurry and sits, giving me a hopeful smile. I walk toward him carefully, dropping into the seat across from him.
“There’s more,” he says.
I swallow hard. “Of course there is.”
His voice lowers. “There’s something called a fated mate. It means… one person. One bond. Chosen by instinct, not choice.”
A strange chill slides down my spine, and I tense. “Okay…”
And then he says it.
“You’re mine.”
The world stops.
The air thickens between us.
My heartbeat roars in my ears.
Holy crap.