Fealty Of The Bear by T.S. Joyce Read Free Book Online Page B

ass crack of dawn.
    “She’s changed back, but her injury still looks rough,” he said in a strained voice. “I know I have no right to ask this of you after everything we’ve been through and after everything you’ve already done for her, but could you come over and take a look at her stomach?” His voice cracked on the last word and dipped to a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
    And that was all she needed to know. That right there told her shit was hitting the fan in piles with his clan if he was desperate enough to come to her for help.
    “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she muttered, then hung up.
    It was Saturday and she’d planned on throwing a couple of plate sets and heating up the kiln in the backyard to fire last week’s work. She had bills to pay, after all—late ones. But this was Samantha, and Bron had just snuffed out the life of his alpha and was likely battling to maintain his rank now. The last thing he needed was to worry about Samantha’s safety.
    She rolled over to apologize to Logan for the early morning phone conversation, but his side of the bed was cold and empty.
    “Logan?”
    No answer.
    A pang of anguish jutted through her. She knew he was going to leave, but she hadn’t had a chance to tell him goodbye. And it was almost a tragedy she hadn’t had the opportunity to thank him for what he did for her last night. He probably wouldn’t be able to understand the depth of the emotional damage not feeling wanted all those years had caused, and Logan had sewn up a great deal of those open wounds with one night of intimacy.
    Heaving herself out of bed, she brushed her teeth, showered in record time, then slid into some jeans and a green sweater that matched her eye color. With her hair pulled back into a damp ponytail, she slid her favorite snow boots over skinny jeans and strode into the herb room. Packing a black satchel with everything she thought she’d need, she turned her head at the fragrant scent of coffee.
    When she made her way into the kitchen, it sat steaming in the pot, but Logan’s boots were gone from beside the front door.
    Her heart dipped to the floor. The coffee had given her a moment of hope, but Logan was really gone.
    Wait. She plucked the top sheet of the notepad from the refrigerator and read the scribbled writing.
     
    Muriel,
    I’m good for any favor you ever need. Here’s my number. Please call anytime. Even if you just need to talk.
     
    The last sentence had been scribbled out, but she could still read it just barely. He’d signed it first name only and written his number at the bottom. She read the note twice more and folded it absently.
    He must have been raised with sisters. That was the only explanation she could think of that a tough talking and acting and looking man like Logan would be so sensitive to offer an ear if she was having a rough time.
    And last night, he’d made sure to take care of her thoroughly before he finished. She wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but it was the first time she was able to have an orgasm with a man. He’d probably ruined her for everyone else.
    Grabbing her keys, she strode out the front door and stopped short.
    Logan was looking under the open hood of her jeep.
    “I thought you left,” she said softly. He’d hear it fine with his shifter senses.
    “I meant to, but your abused jeep distracted me. Did you know that the damage on this side is crowding your internal parts? She won’t run long like this. I can see two hoses leaking from here and your belt is cut up in a couple of places too. Not to mention the damaged parts all near this area.” He gestured with black greased hands.
    “How do you know so much about cars?”
    “It’s what I did before I came here. I’m good at fixing things.”
    “You’re a mechanic?”
    “Among other things,” he said.
    His eyes tightened with every question she asked. That answer was a cop-out, and she could see it clear as day. He was avoiding real