Running Bear (Wounded Warriors Book 1) Read online

  A wave of longing swept over her as she remembered the excitement of waiting for him to pick her up, since her parents had finally relented and allowed her to go on individual dates instead of group dates. She had been fifteen then, and Wyatt had recently turned sixteen.

  He had come to her house and picked her up, opening the car door for her and bearing the disapproving look of her father. He hadn’t had anything against Wyatt personally, but he hadn’t liked the idea of Gillian dating. His stance had changed over the years, and he’d come to regard Wyatt as his son, and he had been as hurt and confused as many others in their small town when Wyatt had broken the engagement and driven away without saying goodbye to anyone.

  With a small sigh, she pushed aside the memory and focused on the present. She didn’t try to make conversation as he navigated through the city. Traffic was nothing compared to the usual times, let alone rush hour, but he still needed to focus. Periodically, she glanced at his side, grimacing each time she saw the blood there.

  As they merged onto I-5 South, she bent forward to look in the glove compartment. The first-aid kit she found was underwhelming, but better than nothing. She held it in her hands as they traveled down the road with dawn fast approaching.

  The silence continued, and it was stretching her nerves taut. Conversation might not be the most beneficial thing at the moment anyway, but she was tired of letting the silence fester between them. She was on the cusp of blurting out anything when she saw a sign for a rest area. “Pull in there please.”

  He grunted, which was ambiguous, but when they reached the exit, he pulled off without complaint. As soon as he had followed the parking lot around and stopped the vehicle in front of the building housing the restrooms, she took off her seatbelt and opened her door. “Come with me. We need to look at that wound if you aren’t going to shift to heal it.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, but that would have required actual words. She sighed with annoyance when he got out with a huff and walked toward the restroom, this time not waiting for her or taking her hand. The delay must be irritating him, or perhaps even the attention she gave his wound. That was too bad for him, because she wasn’t going to let him bleed to death from his own stubbornness and refusal to shift.

  She was happy to see a family restroom, and they must still have at least a similar thought process, because he headed straight to that one as well. He opened the door, holding it for her so she could step through, and then he followed behind her before closing and locking it. “Take off your jacket and shirt.”

  With a small sigh full of impatience, Wyatt stripped until he was bare from the waist up. It had been so long since she’d seen him that way that it temporarily distracted her. He used to be all solid muscle, and while there was still plenty of that, he’d clearly lost some weight. She couldn’t quite see his ribs or feel them when she reached out to probe the area around the wound gently, but he definitely wasn’t taking care of himself the way he should be. She bit back the urge to admonish him gently for that, knowing it was already costing him a lot of inner strength to allow her to look at the wound.

  She was relieved to find it wasn’t as serious as it had appeared earlier. It was pretty shallow, and the blade seemed to have missed any vital organs. If it hadn’t, he probably would have been dead by now. She washed it as best she could using paper towels and soap, which made him hiss and flinch away, but he endured. After that, she used the inadequate first-aid kit, which contained some antibiotic ointment that she smeared over the wound gingerly, and used both of the two gauze pads included, along with the short roll of tape, to secure over the wound. Once it was covered to the best of her ability, she looked up at him with a small frown. “You should just shift to heal.”

  He glowered. “I’m not letting out the beast. I’ll heal just fine on my own.”

  She shrugged, knowing there was no sense in arguing with him. He could be downright stubborn when he chose, and it seemed to be his default choice of late.

  “What about you? Are you injured?”

  She shrugged. “I probably have some bruises, and occasionally it’s difficult to take a deep breath, but I don’t think I’m seriously injured.”

  “Lift up your shirt.” He gave the order gruffly, as though daring her to refuse.

  It was surprisingly awkward to lift her shirt to her armpits. He’d seen her naked many times, and at various points in her life, from when she was skinny until she had grown slightly curvy. It was simply the lack of intimacy between them, exacerbated by the separation of eighteen months, that made it feel like she was baring her body to a stranger. In some ways, this Wyatt was a stranger, which was unbearably sad.

  She blinked back tears and let out a small hiss of pain when he probed carefully down her sides, finding more than one tender spot. “He had quite a grip on me. It was a lucky thing I was able to get my knee up enough to hit a sensitive part of his anatomy. I guess he was still human enough to have balls.”

  He just nodded. “You did well taking care of yourself.”

  The words were terse, but they still made her heart race at the sound of approval in his tone. She shook her head at her own silliness and pulled down her shirt when he nodded. “I’m going to be fine. I hope you will too. I’m a little concerned about infection.”

  He just shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll live. I can’t seem to do otherwise.”

  The words sent a chill through her, and she forgot all about the distance between them and the reasons why he wouldn’t want her to reach out. Instead, she put her hand on his chest, and the other cupped his cheek. “Have you been trying to get rid of yourself, Wyatt?”

  He frowned, but he hadn’t moved away from her light touch. “No. I just haven’t found many good reasons to keep hanging on. Death would be a relief.”

  The words were concerning, but she didn’t really believe them. She didn’t think he believed them either. “If that’s true, why did you fight so hard to survive earlier in your cabin?”

  He frowned at her, seeming not to have an answer for a long moment. Finally, he let out a sigh. “I had to protect you.”

  “If you say so.” It was an easy answer for him, and it wasn’t the full truth, but she didn’t doubt his sincerity either. He had felt moved to ensure her safety, and while he might have felt that way for anyone, she chose to take it as a sign that maybe he still cared about her.

  She knew his bear would never rescind identifying her as his mate, but the human side of him was a stubborn jackass at times. Right now, she understood his decision to leave as much as she ever had, but being back with him again was making it all so fresh, bringing old wounds to the surface. She was glad to see he hadn’t completely moved on and forgotten all about her. She hadn’t managed to do so either; not that she’d really tried. How could she when Wyatt was her whole world?

  “It’s time to hit the road,” he said gruffly, not reaching for her hand this time. He simply turned and walked out of the restroom. With a small sigh, she gathered the remnants of the first-aid kit and followed him from the imagined safety of the restroom.

  He had no trouble starting the Metro again, and they were soon back on the freeway, headed south. His continued silence, combined with her lack of sleep, and the soothing hum of the tires on the road, soon lulled her into a light, restless sleep.

  ***

  She woke sometime later, immediately realizing the sun was all the way up now, and they must have traveled for at least an hour or more. They were still on the freeway, and she saw an exit approaching. He was slowing down, and the speed difference might have been what had woken her. “Where are we?”

  “Just some small town. We need gas.” He pulled off the freeway and onto the exit ramp, slowing down dramatically as they entered the town. It could have been Spring Hills, or a number of other small communities just like it across the country. Wyatt turned to the right, following a sign that displayed two gas stations, a hotel, and two restaurants. At the thought of food, her stom
ach rumbled, and she sat up straighter as they approached the pumps. Wyatt rolled down his window as the attendant approached, and she passed him some money. Then she slid from the car, pausing to lean down to look in. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  With a nod, she closed the door and walked into the gas station, going straight to the food section. The pickings were on the meager side, but her stomach was too empty to care much about variety at the moment. She picked up two breakfast sandwiches and microwaved them in the microwave nearby while pouring large coffees for both of them. She fell right back into the habit of preparing his coffee just the way he liked, with a little cream and two sugars. In some ways, it was like eighteen months hadn’t passed at all. In others, it might as well have been eighteen years.

  She’d reached the counter and was pulling out cash when she looked up at the television behind the clerk and froze. The cashier wasn’t paying any attention to the screen, much to her relief, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from it as pictures of herself and Wyatt flashed across, along with a caption underneath. It identified them as armed and dangerous and claimed they were on the FBI’s Top Ten Most Wanted list.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to act naturally as she took her change. She gathered up the coffees and the sandwiches and turned toward the door. As she did so, she caught the gaze of the two men behind her, and their cold, calculating expressions chilled her. She hurried away, practically running across the parking lot as fast as she could with the coffee in her hands. She handed one to Wyatt and kept one for herself as she got into the car. “Drive.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just drive, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

  He responded to her sense of urgency by turning on the car and pulling out of the parking lot carefully, but quickly. She didn’t breathe well until they were on the freeway again, and then she told him what she’d seen.

  Wyatt didn’t have a chance to reply to her. Instead, he let out a long curse as he looked in the rearview mirror and pushed harder on the gas pedal.

  “What’s going on?” As she asked, she turned in her seat, craning her neck to see a large truck bearing down on them, with two recognizable figures in the other vehicle. It was the men in plaid flannel shirts who’d eyed her as she left the gas station. It could be they just wanted to pass the Metro, but from the way they kept getting closer, she doubted that.

  They confirmed that supposition a moment later by ramming the grill of their truck into the tiny Metro. Wyatt cursed again and fought with the steering wheel as the small car jerked erratically around the road before veering off onto the shoulder and straight into the guard rail. Stars danced behind her eyes as her head snapped forward and then back against the seat with a jarring thud, and consciousness seemed to slip away, though not entirely. She was vaguely aware of someone wrenching open her door, but then she lost that faint threat of awareness and slipped into darkness.

  Chapter Four

  She must have only grayed out, because awareness quickly returned when rough hands moved over her body. At first she thought one of the men was trying to rape her, but quickly realized he was simply searching her for weapons when he pocketed the gun she’d had in the side pocket of her jacket, having moved it there from her waistband.

  When she fully opened her eyes, there were two of him for just a moment, but then they merged into one after she blinked furiously. The man standing over her was solidly built, evident even through his lined flannel shirt. His expression was disdainful. “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a soft rasp.

  “Me and Billy figure there ought to be a reward in turning in two criminals like you.”

  With some effort, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, going slowly to ensure he didn’t shoot her for shifting positions. “Wyatt and I aren’t criminals.” Her stomach clenched when she said his name, and she turned her head, looking for him. She let out a cry of dismay when she saw the other man in flannel was holding Wyatt pressed to the ground, his hand on Wyatt’s bandage, clearly exploiting his weakness. Anger surged in her. “Let him go, you big bully.”

  The one identified as Billy by his compatriot didn’t even look at her. He was too busy grinning sadistically down at Wyatt.

  Wyatt turned his head, and she caught his gaze, hating the pain and anger she saw there. “Transform,” she said. She wanted to curse when his expression turned stubborn. Gillian was sympathetic to his fear of letting out the bear, though she didn’t know exactly why he feared doing so, but if there had ever been a time that called for him to shift, this was it.

  The sound of her own gun cocking turned her attention back to the one who’d frisked her. She stared up with wide eyes at the sight of the gun bearing down on her. “You don’t need that. I’m not a criminal. Neither is Wyatt.”

  He shrugged. “That ain’t what the TV says.” He turned his head to spit out a mouthful of tobacco juice. When he looked back at her again, there was a gleam of interest in his eyes that was disquieting. “It’s hard to believe a little thing like you is Top Ten wanted by the FBI though. Why don’t you tell me what y’all did?”

  She glared up at him. “We didn’t do anything. We have information the government wants suppressed.” She hoped he was the “love your country, not your government” type.

  It seemed to go right over his head. He just chuckled. “If that’s the case, then I don’t see you putting up much of a resistance when we turn you in. Or before.”

  “What are you doing, Bobby?” asked Billy, with a hint of warning in his tone.

  Bobby put away her gun, sliding it into the waistband of his jeans before reaching for his belt buckle. “I’m just having a little fun.”

  Billy cursed. “No, you ain’t. We need to get these two into the cops as soon as possible.”

  Bobby chuckled. “According to this the lady, she hasn’t done nothing wrong. Just in case she’s telling the truth, I ought to give her a going away present. Something to remember me by. It’s her last chance to get laid before prison.”

  Gillian glared up at him, prepared to fight until her last breath. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “Maybe during,” said Bobby with an air of musing. “Either way, I imagine they’ll give us a reward whether you’re dead or alive.”

  A roar from Wyatt caught all their attention, and Gillian looked in his direction in time to see his arm transform to a full bear paw. With another roar that sounded more animal than human, he swung at Billy, who dropped the gun he’d held on Wyatt and fell back, no longer pressing against his wound. Wyatt jumped to his feet, clearly struggling with the wound.

  He paused only long enough to scoop up the weapon Billy had dropped, one of his own guns, before running toward her and Bobby. He was clearly in pain, and she wanted to curse at his stubbornness for not shifting all the way to heal himself.

  Bobby had abandoned all attempts and thoughts of doing anything to her as he turned to face the man running at him, clearly terrified by the bear paw. Even in his fear, he assumed a shooter’s stance as he fumbled for her gun.

  Gillian refused to allow Bobby to shoot Wyatt with her gun. Since he wasn’t looking at her, she was able to move around him, kicking him in the knee as hard as she could.

  Bobby’s attention wavered from Wyatt and turned back to her, pointing the gun in her direction once more. He was howling with pain and clearly barely standing upright with his knee injured. Unfortunately, he was still thinking straight. He didn’t even look at Wyatt when he spoke. “Stop right there, whatever the hell you are, or she dies.”

  Gillian looked at Wyatt. He was plainly maintaining control over the bear, as evidenced by the awareness in his gaze and the way he abruptly halted.

  “Let her go,” said Wyatt. “I’m the one they really want, and I’ll come with you quietly if you just move away from her.”

  Bobby snorted. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Soon as she�
��s no longer around, you’ll rip me apart.” The gun moved quickly, aiming in Wyatt’s direction and firing before Gillian could even process what was happening.

  “Of course, if I take you out now, that won’t be a concern.” He fired again, but the shot missed. Wyatt rammed into him, taking him down and slashing at his face with the bear paw. Bobby let out a wail of pain, and her gun slipped from his hand.

  Gillian scrambled forward to grab it, turning it around and using the butt to hammer Bobby on the temple. He went slack almost immediately, and Wyatt must have maintained enough control to realize the threat was over, because he pulled away.

  Instead of coming to her, he ran the opposite direction. Clutching her gun, Gillian ran after him. “Wyatt, stop. We need to get out of here.” When he kept running another few yards, she increased her pace to keep up with him, somehow partially closing the distance, though it left her heart pounding in her chest. “We’re still in danger. They could find us at any time.”

  Wyatt drew to a halt, but he didn’t turn to face her. Fur bristled on his neck and spots left visible by his clothing. He was breathing hard, clearly trying to regain control.

  She moved closer to him, stifling the hint of fear she felt. His bear would surely pick up on the pheromones if the animal was in control enough to do so. She didn’t want Wyatt to know she had ever been afraid of him, though she was scared of his loss of control or ability to regain it. That didn’t mean she was going to leave him here alone or ever let him know how she felt.

  He stiffened when she put her hand on his shoulder, a low growl emitting from him. She kept her voice soothing. “You should transform at least enough to heal. You’re going to need your strength.”