Page 25 of Bear’s True Mate

I fought the urge to rush to the window and watch her get into her car. Instead, I remained where I was and listened for the sound of it starting.

It didn’t come.

What was she doing?

My bear urged me to my feet, grumbling and growling at me to get my butt to the window and see what she was doing. I tried to fight him, but a part of me was curious too.

One peek wouldn’t hurt.

I went to the window and looked out. She was sitting at the little patio table near her front door in the dark. From this angle, I couldn’t see her face, but I could spot that her arms were wrapped around her middle like she was hugging herself tight.

What was going on?

I was out my front door and standing at her side before I’d even thought to move. She didn’t look at me. Instead, she continued to stare straight ahead.

“Did I do something to piss you off, or have you just been in hermit mode with the book?” I asked, a frown pulling at my lips.

I’d meant it to sound light. Casual. It didn’t land that way, though. There was too much bitterness etched into my tone. None of that mattered an instant later when she finally shifted to look at me.

She was crying.

Her eyes were red, and her skin was blotchy even in the dark. It was clear she’d been crying for a while.

Shit.

What was I supposed to do now? What was I supposed to say to her?

I didn’t do well in situations like this. Crying women were like my fucking kryptonite.

My bear nudged me, wanting me to say something more or comfort her somehow. I didn’t know what else to say to her or how to comfort her. So, I sat in the chair on the opposite side of the small patio table and swallowed hard while I wracked my brain for the right words.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” I said, my voice low. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Was that the right thing to say?

I wasn’t sure.

When she didn’t respond, I ran a hand through my hair and debated if I should get up and head back inside. Maybe she didn’t need to talk to anyone, least of all me, about whatever was bothering her. Maybe all she’d needed was some cool night air. I’d been there a time or two. When the walls around you seemed to be closing in and all you needed was a few breaths of night air and to sit beneath the stars for a bit just to feel a sense of expansion around you, like things weren’t closing in.

Five minutes passed before she spoke. Maybe it was ten. Heck, maybe it was even longer. I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that I was glad when she finally did say something to me.

“I left someone,” she whispered. The words sounded rough around the edges like they had to scrape their way up and out. “Before I came here. I left someone who hurt me.”

Those last two words had both my bear and myself growing rigid. Every muscle in my body tightened to near snapping, and every sense I had locked in on her.

Someone had fucking hurt her?

My hands gripped the armrests of my chair too hard. If the chair had been made of anything besides metal, they would have crumbled.

“He’s been texting me,” she continued, oblivious to the internal battle I was raging.

It took everything in me to hold my bear back. He wanted out. He wanted to protect her. Even though there was no threat around.

“Nothing crazy. He’s just asked where I am. I don’t think he knows yet, but he’s looking and that scares me.”

I fought hard to keep my breathing steady while I shoved my bear back once more. Every instinct I had wanted me to go after this faceless man who’d hurt her—who was scaring her—and make him pay.

“Did he hit you?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous sounding.