But that to-do item was all slaughtered, and I was back to staring at her without knowing what to say.
Mine… Mine… MINE!
My bear roared inside of me, even as she lay there handcuffed to the bed, staring back at me through one swollen eye above her duct-taped mouth. She was wearing a short-sleeved blue dress with a frilly collar—like something out of one of those old movies where all the women were housewives who cleaned until their husbands got home. But mottled patches of purple marred the dark skin on her bare arms and legs. Where he’d grabbed her, hit her, maybe even kicked?—
A fresh wave of rage coursed through me, and I had to close my eyes when my bear threatened to surface again.
I killed him too quick.
I'd accumulated a few regrets by that point in life. But as I stared at the woman on the bed, waiting for her answer to my stupid question, that one shot up to the top of the heap.
Letting out my polar bear to shred him to pieces, then shifting back to human to unload every bullet in that gun he'd dared to point at me into his lifeless corpse hadn't been enough.
Should've made it slower. Should've made sure he understood exactly why he was dying and who was killing him on Bell's behalf. Should've let him feel every second of what he'd put her through.
Imagine if I'd actually had patience.
If I'd strung him up. Made him cough blood. Made him beg for her forgiveness. Then cut open his belly anyway for thinking that would be enough.
I’d been warned, and written up, and eventually forced into retirement over my quick temper.
But this was the first time I actually agreed.
He deserved worse—so much worse—for what he’d done to the mother of Koda’s and Mak’s mates. I kicked myself for ending it too fast.
But this wasn’t about me.
I started forward toward the bed.
Only to stop short when she made a scared sound, scooting back as best she could despite the metal holding her to the railing. The white of her open eye flashed as she tracked me.
That little bit of chain would have been nothing for a bear to undo, but a wisp of a sugar cookie like Bell… She rattled the handcuffs desperately, trying to get away.
Fuck, she’s scared of me.
I realized, then, how I must look to her. Naked, because I’d shredded my clothes in the shift, and covered in that asshole’s blood.
“Hey, hey, name’s Boone. Walker Boone. But nobody calls me Walker anymore. And, look, I’m not trying to hurt you, Bell.” I held out both hands, letting her see I had nothing in them. That I wasn’t a threat. I repeated what I’d told the dead piece of shit at the door. “Your daughter’s mates sent me. Noelle and Holly.”
Back in March, I’d chucked that Joining Ceremony invite straight into the electronic trash. Now I was grateful I’d at least clocked their names because Bell’s expression relaxed. A little.
The abject fear ratcheted down a few notches to wariness.
That would have to do.
Keeping my hands up, I approached her the same way I did skittish horses I needed to save from wildfires.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I murmured. “Not going hurt you. Just trying to help. Just trying to help.”
She stared at me, the one unswollen eye impossibly wide and unblinking. But she kept still as I reached for the duct tape covering her mouth.
I could tell it took a lot for her to do that.
“You’re being so brave.” I began peeling away the duct tape. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me help you.”
I uncovered her mouth as gently as I could, but I knew it had to hurt—especially when I saw her lips. Dry, swollen, and split in a couple of places.
The bear threatened to rise again. But I pushed it down. Kept my face professional.
