Bear To The Bone (Bear Claw Security 1) Read online

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  Carrie should have known it would be easier to agree to the jacket than to actually put it on.

  She glared at the black leather coat Cage held out for her like it could burn her.

  “I told you to trust me,” he said, setting it down on the bar between them. “The men are going to be here soon. It’s the easiest way to show them you’re only for me.” He touched her lightly beneath the chin, and her thoughts raced back to when he’d been kissing her… down there. “And you are only for me, right?”

  She shook her head out of his reach. “You know I can’t think of anyone else. The jacket doesn’t change that.”

  “Then put it on,” he said.

  “But it changes me,” she said hesitantly. “If I put that on, I represent what I hate most. I look totally allied with them. I don’t want to.”

  He reached out to brush her cheek with his thumb. “It’s not going to be perfect. Like you said. But this is the best I can do.”

  She eyed the jacket suspiciously. “It feels like we just keep taking steps backward. When you left, it was forward. But you came back an Ace, and I tried to accept it, and now you’re making me one of them.”

  “It’s just a piece of leather,” he said. “You know that and I know that, no matter what they think. But it will protect you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

  She tapped her fingers nervously on the bar. It literally felt physically painful to put that thing on her back. She knew she was being stubborn, but as long as Cage was keeping her so far out of the loop on what was going on, he was making it hard for her to trust him.

  No matter how wonderful he’d been in bed that morning. After the afterglow had faded, reality had set in.

  He tried to give her a grin. “It’ll look good on you.” He held it out again.

  She grabbed it out of his hand and chucked it back onto the counter. She looked at the door, wondering when the bikers were going to show up at the bar for their usual session of loud drinking and borderline harassment. “I can’t believe you’re making a joke out of this.” She turned the jacket around and pointed to the patch. “This is everything we hate, remember? This is everything we stand against.”

  He jerked the jacket back from her. “This is a part of who I am,” he said. “I was born to it.”

  “And you left it… when you left me,” she said.

  “And I came back to you both,” he said. His mouth was tight and a muscle ticked at the corner of his jaw. He was going to be stubborn about this; she could tell. “You said you would trust me. I said I couldn’t tell you everything.”

  She nodded, throat tight. She hadn’t thought it would result in having to wear leather that said ‘Property of the Aces.’

  “You have rights if you wear this,” he said. “They can’t harass you. They can’t take from you.” He stared hard into her eyes. “Now that we’ve started things between us, I need to know you’re in this with me.”

  “I never said I’d be in the Aces with you.”

  He ran his hand through his hair roughly. “You aren’t really an Ace.” His eyes flicked to the door, where they could hear voices approaching. “Dammit, are you going to wear it or not?”

  Her heart pounded and she made a split second decision. “Not.”

  He pounded a hand into the bar and gritted his teeth together. Then he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the office, bringing the jacket along with him.

  He pushed her inside, shut the door behind them, and then set the jacket on her desk. “You said you would wear it. Just at the bar,” he said. “Don’t break your word.”

  “It wasn’t fair of you to ask when I was feeling all… orgasm-y.”

  He laughed at that, but his expression was still strained. He really was worried for her. “Carrie… I mean it.”

  She pointed to it. “So if I wear that, in some Neanderthal way, I’m safe?”

  He nodded.

  “Is there no other way?” she asked. “Because I seriously think I’ll die in that thing.” She blinked back angry tears and pointed at the patch. “Because the men who run under that sign have hurt almost everyone I love.”

  His jaw tightened, and he took the jacket back, tucking it under his arm. “Fine. I’ll just have to protect you another way.”

  Her heart sped up, feeling hopeful. “How will you do that?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t need to know, doll face.”

  “Doll face?” She wrinkled her nose.

  He shrugged, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I don’t want to destroy you while trying to protect you. If you really can’t stand the jacket, then I’ll just have to work harder.”

  She frowned. “I don’t want you to work harder. I don’t want the Aces around. I don’t want any of this, dammit.”

  He walked forward, tilting up her chin so he could place a kiss lightly on her lips. His tongue slid playfully over her lower lip as he pulled back. The smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I’m sorry the world I come from disgusts you so much.”

  “Don’t take it like that,” she said. “It’s just… I told you even when you were little. I couldn’t be your old lady.”

  “I know,” he said, folding his arms and stepping back. “It made me want to reach for more.”

  “But then you let go and came back.”

  His dark blue gaze flickered. “So I did.”

  She leaned against the desk. “So what now?”

  He rolled up the jacket. “Now I protect you the only way I know how.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that, and nervousness prickled through her, making the little hairs on her arms and neck stand up.

  He started to leave, and she followed him, grabbing his sleeve. “Wait, Cage. Don’t do anything stupid…”

  He turned back to her with a sardonic glare. “Carrie, you said no to the jacket. Now let me handle it.”

  Her heart pounded. She didn’t like the sound of it. Didn’t know what he meant and didn’t like it.

  “Just remember,” he said in a deep voice. “I said I’d protect you, and I meant it. Whether you want me to or not, I’m going to do it. I don’t get to say what you do, so I’m not going to make you wear that jacket. But you also don’t get to tell me what to do. Especially if it’s something involving your safety.”

  Her mouth gaped. She wasn’t trying to tell him what to do. She just couldn’t stand the thought of him hurt.

  It occurred to her that was all he’d wanted in her taking the jacket.

  She wished she could just give up the bar and let the Aces have it. But she needed the money to help Willow. And there was a stubborn part of her that wouldn’t give it to them either way.

  And besides, she got the feeling even after getting her bar, that wouldn’t be the last she’d see of the Aces.

  “They’re here,” Cage said, opening the door. He thought a moment and then handed her the rolled-up jacket. “Can you put this behind the bar?” he asked. “If they see it, they’ll know you rejected it. And that would be bad.”

  She didn’t even get a chance to ask why that would be bad, because the second she took the jacket, he was out the door, shutting it behind him.

  Soon enough, the raucous sound of the Aces filled the bar, and she would need to go out and make sure they didn’t break or steal anything.

  Since the Aces had been coming, no one else dared enter, so they were all the business she had. At least they paid, most of the time.

  She squared her shoulders and walked into the bar, hiding the jacket behind her until she could safely stow it behind the counter where it wouldn’t be seen.

  Out of sight, out of mind.

  * * *

  Cage felt his whole body tense as the usual guys from the Aces sauntered into the bar.

  Damn, he’d thought things were going to be easier from now on because she’d trust him enough to wear his jacket. He understood her reasons not to, but he didn’t think sh
e’d like the result.

  He cracked his knuckles and then leaned back in the booth, trying to look relaxed. He couldn’t show any weakness or fear. Or rejection.

  He had to make it clear Carrie was claimed, and he had to do it without the patch, which was the only thing these idiots understood.

  But he could sense a feeling of distrust from the men around him as they sat in the booth. A quiet tension swirled in the air. It was probably because of the fight earlier between him and Harvey. When he’d gotten back to the compound after his amazing morning with Carrie, Pete had called him into his office and made him give an account of the skirmish.

  He’d been cleared of any wrongdoing because Harvey had started the bout, but Cage had the feeling most of the Winter Falls Aces were on Harvey’s side anyway.

  Just another reason this stupid chapter needed to go down—if they’d really back up an officer who tried to attack women just because they’d known him longer.

  Rage roiled through Cage as he thought about what Harvey’s intentions were when he’d accosted Carrie. Would he really have just tried to be persuasive, or were his motives much darker?

  Cage felt blood under his nails, which were digging into his palms as his bear responded to the thought of someone attacking his mate.

  Which was quite likely, considering she wasn’t wearing his patch.

  He forced himself to calm down, to look relaxed. He wouldn’t be any good if he had his mind on something other than the present.

  Still, he had the ugly feeling things between him and Harvey weren’t over and the men around him were just waiting to make that known.

  It would have been so different if she’d just agreed to wear his leather. But that was one of the things he loved about Carrie. Her sheer, idealistic need for justice and rightness, even when the world was a murky, dark, confusing place.

  In her world, things were simply white or black. For Cage, things had always been gray. He was born into gray. His military career involved a lot of the gray. And now, he was in the gray again.

  The gray was a nasty place where you had to do the wrong things for the right reasons. But he’d take all the gray for Carrie and let her live in the white a while longer.

  She was at the bar now, busying herself with wiping down the counter and avoiding looking at any of the men. Including him.

  All he wanted was for this night to be over so he could go back to her place and hold her and block out the world for a while.

  He badly wished to be back in New York, working in his office, everything having been sorted and Carrie safely by his side.

  He jumped when he felt Brick nudge him with a dirty laugh. “I thought you said you were putting your patch on her,” Brick said, nodding to Carrie at the bar, wearing a simple white sweater and a black apron over the top.

  “Why would you think that?” he asked.

  “Overheard you talking to Pete,” Brick said.

  “Well, she’s my woman,” Cage drawled, knowing the other men were tuning in and watching now. “But she needs a bit of convincing to take the patch.”

  “Bet Harvey could convince her,” Steve, a large, blond man, muttered. “Bet he’d have her and the bar already, too, if you hadn’t come back. Then we could be out riding, not here every night.”

  Every muscle tightened in Cage’s body, but he forced himself to remain cool. He didn’t like the feeling of dread he was getting from the murmuring men around him.

  It felt like mutiny, and he wasn’t even any kind of leader.

  He saw other eyes on Carrie.

  “She isn’t wearing my patch,” he said. “But she’s mine. Anyone want to challenge that, do it now and get it over with.”

  “If she’s not wearing your patch, she ain’t yours,” Steve muttered, folding his arms and sitting up in the booth.

  Cage ground his teeth together. He’d known this was going to happen. He only hated that men like this existed. Men who didn’t care what Carrie actually wanted and only understood property and fighting as a way of being with women.

  He knew there were probably other clubs that were different. Maybe even chapters of the Aces. But this club was rotten to the core, and nothing would ever fix it but complete annihilation.

  “So,” he said, ready to get this over with. “Anyone ready to challenge me on Harvey’s behalf?” He cracked his knuckles meaningfully and stared around the group. He knew his stare and his sheer size were intimidating and hoped perhaps that was enough to stave off conflict.

  Carrie wouldn’t want a fight in her bar.

  The bear in him said that was hopeless. His mate needed to be defended. This was the only way.

  “She ain’t yours,” another man said from the other booth. “You ain’t proved nothin’ yet.”

  Cage fought back a groan. This was the result of getting into the club again because of his dad. He didn’t have any of their respect. Not for real yet. He hadn’t gone through the hangout period or the prospect period.

  Never mind he’d been born into this lifestyle, that he’d been a part of the Aces long before many of them even thought to apply.

  He stood slowly, pushing his way out of the booth. He took off his jacket and hung it on the side. Then he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, making it tight over his large biceps.

  He stared down at them from his full, intimidating height. “All right. Anyone who wants to take me on can do it right fucking now,” he said.

  It was quiet, and then Steve looked at the others and they nodded. He stood up.

  Cage looked at Carrie, who was standing behind the bar but watching them with a frozen expression. Her eyes widened as she saw what was happening.

  “No,” she mouthed, but he turned away, fists tightening.

  The only thing these men would understand was fear. And he’d give them plenty of it. Show them exactly what would happen when you challenged a grizzly’s claim on his mate or a soldier’s claim on his woman or a man’s claim on love.

  Fucking bloodshed, that’s what would happen.

  He let out a low growl, letting them feel the animal inside him, and Steve hesitated, looking like he might take a step back. Then he shook it off, loosened his shoulders, and put up his meaty fists.

  “This is for what you did to Harv,” Steve said. Then he glanced at Carrie. Cage wanted to rip out his eyes for even looking at her. “Then, when I’ve beaten you to a pulp, we’re all going to fuck her. See if we get the bar then.”

  Fuck biker conventions. He was going to kill this man. Not just maim him.

  Blood roared in his ears. He couldn’t remember his plan anymore, his reason for being here.

  Steve charged, throwing a meaty, dirty fist in Cage’s direction. The man was fast—Cage had to give him that—but he was nothing compared to Cage’s bear strength and reflexes. Compared to him, Steve was moving in slow motion.

  Cage made a lightning quick dodge to the left, moving his body out of Steve’s way, and then slammed his fist as hard as he could into Steve’s ribcage with a fierce uppercut that lifted the other man into the air and sent him sprawling back to land in front of one of the booths that held his cronies.

  Cage cracked his neck ominously as he walked forward.

  Steve was on the ground, gasping. He was stunned from the blow to his diaphragm, unable to move.

  Cage didn’t care. He looked at the other men waiting and then pulled back his steel-toed boot and brought it hard into the ribs of the man in front of them.

  A loud cracking noise sounded through the bar, and the men visibly recoiled. Some of them probably didn’t support Steve. Some of them were probably just waiting to see what happened, see if the newbie could hold his own.

  He drew back his leg and kicked the man again, hard. He wanted them all to remember it. If they so much as looked at her—

  “Stop it!” Carrie shouted, running forward. “Stop it. Don’t do this.”

  She jerked on his arm, but he didn’t turn to her. He had to finish
this. If he showed weakness now…

  “I’m sorry I didn’t put this on earlier,” she said, holding out an arm to show the others. “I forgot. I was in my work uniform. Please stop. I’m already with him.”

  He felt his heart pounding, felt like he was coming out of a trance.

  Steve groaned and moved, still alive.

  Carrie had put on the jacket so Cage wouldn’t have to kill him. He still wanted to, though. She hadn’t heard his ugly threats.

  She clung to his arm. “I’m yours, Cage. There’s nothing to prove.”

  He took a deep breath and stepped back, watching the men in the booth.

  One by one, they started to speak. “Steve was out of line,” one said.

  “Clearly, she has the jacket. He shouldn’t have challenged.”

  “Harvey couldn’t get her in the jacket. Cage did.”

  The others murmured in agreement as Cage narrowed his eyes on Steve, who looked badly injured but hopeful of mercy.

  Cage gently pushed Carrie away from the booth and crouched in front of Steve. “You tell Harvey who did this. And who’s wearing my patch. And next time you want to think about challenging me, think about this.” He made a noise with his mouth that sounded just like the crunch Steve’s ribs had made, and Steve went even paler, then nodded gingerly.

  “Good,” Cage said, standing back up and facing the booth. “He needs someone to take him to the compound doctor. Who’s going to do it?”

  Five men quickly got up and took care of it, lifting and carrying their friend out the door.

  Watching them go, watching the way the men looked at him now, the way they deferred, he could almost understand his father. There was something satisfying in the power of controlling others with fear, about being able to use your strength to enforce your will.

  But there was also something sickening about it. Even when you had to do it to protect what you loved.

  And when he looked back at Carrie, he could see it in her face. She was disappointed in him. But he hadn’t known what else to do. Maybe he should have just stayed in New York. But then no one here could have been safe.

  The rest of the men were still watching him, waiting to see what he would do next.