AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Gunner would’ve ridden his motorcycle all night if he hadn’t been running on fumes.
No help for it, he had to stop for gas.
He eased into a gas station on the outskirts of Laramie, Wyoming. He’d been trying to escape Damon’s Mountains for weeks, but he just kept circling Saratoga. His damn inner grizzly had issues and wouldn’t leave territory he’d claimed as his.
Gunner pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and did a quick scan of the station. There were two cars parked up by the door. One silver Civic that still looked wet from a car wash, which made sense because there was a wash-by-hand joint next door. The other car was a beat-up old truck that would’ve drawn a smile to his face if he had a heart. It was the same model his dad drove.
At one of the pumps, there was a black truck with dark-tinted windows. A man was talking on the phone inside. His sensitive shifter hearing picked up bits and pieces of the conversation.
“…how should I know?...”
“…what do you want me to do about it…”
“…I don’t know, you’re the one tracking her…”
“…she’s talking to the guy behind the counter…”
It was that last part that dragged his attention back to the black truck. He could barely make out the outline of the man from here. He had a visor over his helmet to shield his face from the world, and the dark tint on the man’s front windshield was not legal at all.
The man was quiet, head turned toward the gas station—that much Gunner could see.
He put his credit card in the slot and settled the gas nozzle into his tank. God, it was a good thing he had stopped. He was nearly dry.
Inside the gas station, a woman was paying for some snacks. Skittles, a bag of potato chips, a Sprite…nice.
All he could see was her back, but she had long brunette hair that had been curled into soft waves. She wore a baggy neon-pink hoodie that hung down to her hips and cutoff jean shorts—the kind with the white strings hanging down the curves of her thighs. Nice ass. Pretty figure. She had a tattoo of some kind of bird with outstretched wings on the back of her thigh, partially hidden by her shorts. She wore a backwards hat on her head. Looked comfy.
“…yeah, she’s wearing those shorts you hate again…”
Gunner’s snarl kicked up, and he was glad for the helmet. It hid most of the sound. What was this dude’s problem?
“…want me to follow her?...”
He was so distracted, Gunner nearly flooded gasoline over the lip of his tank. He clicked it off and cursed when the nozzle dripped a few drops onto the black paint of his Ducati. He quickly wiped it off with the hem of his black T-shirt.
“…she won’t notice me…”
Another snarl ripped out of Gunner. He needed to get out of here before he throttled this guy and flipped his truck.
He slid his leg over the seat and started the bike, but he couldn’t make himself leave.
Fuck.
The roaring in his ears was so loud, and he was going to explode. Everything was a trigger now. He hated…hated…hated being himself.
He squeezed the grips of his motorcycle, but the tension was only building. The damn bear was doing something strange.
Gunner angled his head toward the gas station again. That woman was being watched, and from her easygoing nature as she laughed with the gas station attendant, she didn’t have any idea.
“This isn’t my problem,” he snarled out softly, but the responding growl said his animal disagreed. “Well, what are you gonna fuckin’ do?” Gunner blurted, sitting up straight. “You gonna save her? You’re worse than that guy could be.” Another growled response, and he wanted to scream at the dark sky and curse the stars.
Fine. Gunner slid off the motorcycle. “Kill him then. See if I care. Maybe Damon will finally be pushed into putting me down.”
But when he tried to make his way to the truck, his legs went a different direction. Now he was walking toward the damn gas station.
No, no, no, no.
