Black Bear Rising: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 1) (32 page)

Sara got up from the floor and rubbed her neck, three reddening fingerprints, like splotches of maroon paint were visible on the pale skin of her neck. Brad watched her getting up and fixing herself. He knew the type, he’d seen women like her before. She was the type of woman who would survive the heat death of the universe, resilient and tough, she let change flow around her like a polished pebble in a river. She would out survive Brad he could nearly guarantee it. “Who was Lana's surprise visitor?” he asked pulling up his trousers. The momentary relief he’d felt while banging her was already being replaced by the old familiar skull cracking pain behind his eyes and the dull throb of his damaged shoulder.

Sara leaned against the compact kitchen counter and looked at him and said, “Did he have a beard?”

Brad nodded.

“That’s Einar. He’s a farm boy who saved her at the beach when she got herself into yet another desperate situation. I thought he was out of the picture. The two lovebirds had a falling out last night and Lana expected that was the last she would see of him,” she said. Don’t think I didn’t notice your less than subtle dig at your friend Brad thought, she is already rewriting her narrative and distancing herself from her friend.

Brad could see Sara at work before him and it was a thing of beauty. The way she was speaking to him in soft breathy tones he could see she was already putting his violent outburst behind her. Not holding a grudge against him, showing him nothing but help and the sweet spot between her legs was her sure fire way of gaining his confidence. He could see straight through her games.

“Well, he’s back with her now,” Brad said.

“Is that a problem?” Sara asked.

He looked over at her, his face as rigid as a death mask and said, “No. It doesn't change what I have to do.”

Brad took his blood stained shirt off and threw it into the sink. He flexed his shoulder and tried to look at the injuries he had sustained. Fresh blood oozed from the glass studded wounds on his back. “Get the first aid kit,” he ordered Sara.

She came back from the bathroom and opened it, and spread its contents on the kitchen table. “I hope you have a strong stomach. I have glass embedded in my back and shoulder. I need you to fish it out,” he said.

“I’ve seen worse,” Sara said picking up a disposable tweezers. “Turn around.”

Pain shot through his arm as his back felt like it was whipped with barbed wire. Sara dropped bloody chunk after bloody chunk of glass onto the kitchen table. She put her hand on his shoulder and said,”Hold still, this last piece is dug in deep.”

Brad could feel the tweezer digging and rooting around in his torn flesh as Sara worked. His jaw was clamped shut and the cords of his neck flexed like high tension wires as pain wracked his body. “Got it,” she said and dropped a hooked piece of glass the length of a pinkie finger onto the table. Warm blood ran down his back in sticky rivulets. Sara cleaned the wound, dressed it and said, “Do you have something for the pain?” He pointed to his jacket hanging on the back of a chair. Sara found the bottle of pills in his pocket and threw them to him. He caught it one handed and winced with pain. He dry swallowed three of the pills and stood up breathing heavily. His body was drenched in a layer of sickly cold sweat.

She stood across from him in the kitchen looking at him with a sly smile curling the corners of her mouth. Her lips looked swollen as she looked him up and down unblinking. Even through the searing pain in his back Brad wanted nothing more than to take her again. She is trouble he thought to himself as he put his hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. She came to him with no resistance and pressed herself against him. Brad could feel the incessant throb of his stiff cock as he began to slide her loose fitting trousers over the soft curve of her hips. She stepped out of them and turned and walked towards the bedroom. Brad followed like a dog on a leash.

Brads mouth snapped shut and he coughed dryly, his eyes opening wide. He had been dreaming about drowning, trapped in a sewer pipe somewhere under New York City. Sara lay in the bed beside him, curled into a tight ball as she murmured gently in her sleep. Daylight streamed through the cheap blinds on the cabins window. Brad got out of bed and went outside to the wooden deck in front of the cabin. A thin strip of purple on the horizon faded into a light blue until it mixed with the azure of an Icelandic sky. His watch told him it was three in the morning and he cursed the brightness. Fuck this midnight sun he thought to himself, who would want to live like this, it’s miserable he thought stretching out on a wooden chair. The crisp night air caused his skin to prickle on his naked torso and he was about to get up to get a blanket when Sara came out with one for him. She was wrapped up in one herself when she sat down in the chair beside him.

“What time is it?” she asked yawning and stretching.

“Too damn early,” he said wrapping the heavy down blanket around his body.

“Not a fan of the midnight sun?” she asked.

“It doesn’t feel right watching the sun hover in the sky all day long. Never dipping below the horizon and giving us the break we need from the non stop bright light,” he said.

“You a night time kind of guy?” she asked.

“You could say that. Not a lot of my job is done during the light of day,” he said stretching his legs out before him.

“Our true selves come out at night,” she said staring off towards the horizon. “What happens next?”

“I finish my job here. Then we go back to the states. You talk to Gus and you take it from there,” he said.

“And Lana?”

“Look you know how these things go. She messed up. Im here to clean up the mess, I’m nothing but a small and vital part of the equation. Don't think you can somehow sweet talk me out of this. Step back and think it through for a second. Say I do pull back, go off the grid and do nothing. Great. Gus will have another goon dispatched and on the next flight within a few hours. Everything was set in motion when she decided to film her night with the client. That recording is what brought her down. Not me,” he said feeling a chill in his bones.

Sara stared off into the distance and said nothing.

Brad got up and stretched, he felt disconnected from the world around him, night and day mixed into one endless stream, the sun ever present in the sky above. He looked out across the fields and the empty coast road, I could be the last man on earth he thought feeling weariness implant itself in his core. I shouldn't be here he thought, he was nothing more than a figment, a ghoul that existed at a distance from real human contact. He knew what the day ahead held for him, a relentless trudge as he closed in on his target. He knew guys that got off on the power to end a life, men whose only career path was only ever going to be one of crime. If Brad felt like a ghoul banished to the edge of town, something the people feared and maybe even pitied a little, the men whose blood quickened and their dicks hardened at the thought of bringing misery to others were soul sucking demons ravaging the land. I’m different than those freaks Brad thought to himself, I still have a tiny piece of my humanity left. I’m still basically a good guy who just made some mistakes and needs to claw himself out of the mud. “Tomorrow I go hunting,” he whispered to himself.

“What?,” Sara said looking over at him.

Brad looked at her and said, “I’m going back to bed. We head out early tomorrow.” He went inside leaving Sara alone on the porch her legs curled up under her and a blanket wrapped tight around her body.

The midnight sun hung low in the sky and as it passed behind a mountain peak a slow creeping shadow moved across the cabin and the surrounding fields. A raven sitting on a fence post flapped its wings and flew low across a field as the shadow continued its path across everything. Sara stayed sitting on the porch as the air cooled, after a while she got up and joined Brad in bed.

Lana awoke to the noise of cutlery clinking against a plate and she looked in the direction of the kitchen. Einar had his back to her and was stirring something in a pan. He heard her rouse and turned around and smiled at her. “Have I been asleep long?” she asked swinging her legs onto the floor.

“An hour or so. I thought you might be hungry, it will be ready in a few minutes,” he said. “The bathroom is back there if you want to freshen up,” he said pointing to a corridor at the back of the bungalow.

When she came back from the bathroom Einar pointed towards the tables stacked with tools and engine parts and said, “We are a little short on dining spots, do you want to go outside?”

“I’d love to,” Lana replied.

“Grab those blankets off the back of the chair and I’ll follow you out,” he said.

Lana laid the blankets out in the meadow facing the cottage. The air was mixed with a heady aroma of chives, wild garlic and a range of other fragrant herbs growing nearby. Lana kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes in the short cropped grass. The earth felt warm under her feet like a loaf of bread just out of the oven. Butterflies with white wings landed on the purple fuzzy heads of the chives and stretched their wings wide. Somewhere far off the long plaintive call of a sheep could be heard and then it was answered by another and another. The sun was directly overhead and whatever clouds had come in from the sea earlier that day were now nothing more than faint after images in the cerulean sky. A raven called in loud clicks, the sound of telegraph message being sent, and another landed beside it on the roof of the barn.
 

Einar sat down on the blanket across from her and he was holding a wooden tray with carved fish for handles. He passed her a plate and said, “This is nothing too fancy. It's a simple traditional farmer or fisherman's meal. Its called plottfiskur. Its white fish, fried onions and mashed potatoes.” He held up a mug and said, “This is a butter sauce to go with it. These are also for you,” he said passing her a bunch of flowers with purple heads the size of stamps. “These are arctic flowers. They grow in tough conditions. They are strong and beautiful, like you.”

She sniffed the flowers and a sweet honeyish smell filled her nose. “You’re a gentleman,” she said smiling.

“If I was I wouldn't have reacted how I did earlier. I made you feel ashamed, I never meant for that. I don't want to make excuses and say I'm a simple country boy. It was wrong how I treated you, it must have been hard for you to tell me about your past. I hope you accept my apology,” he said.

“Accepted,” she said smiling. The warm sun tingled on her skin and she felt relief that he knew about her dark past.

“Ok try the food and tell me what you think,” Einar said.

Lana shovelled up a forkful of the plottfiskur and stuffed it in her mouth. “Mmmm this is so good. I’ve pretty much had nothing but hospital food since I’ve arrived.” She poured some butter sauce on and scooped up another mouthful. Her eyes rolled back and she let out a moan of pleasure as the rich butter mixed with the soft fried onions, fish and velvet smooth potatoes. “This is good,” she said.

“Glad you like it,” he said starting his.

After they finished eating they lay on the blankets as the sun warmed their bodies. They lay there silently and Lana felt relaxed and happy in his company, it was a new feeling for her, not having the need to have to talk constantly to avoid embarrassing silences. Lying beside him felt right to her. After a few minutes of silence Einar spoke and said, “What do we do next?” A ticklish sensation moved pleasurably across her arms at the use of the word “We”.
 

“Do you have somewhere else we can go? There is no way the attacker is going to give up now that he knows I’m here,” she said.

“I have a cabin an hour from here. Off the grid and not many people know about it. We could go there tomorrow and hole up for a while. Prepare ourselves for the next time our friend makes an appearance,” he said.

“I don’t think he’s going to stop until he gets the video file back and then kills me,” she said with a shake in her voice.

Einar reached out and took her hand. “He’s not going to get another chance to do you any harm. I have a hunting rifle in the cabin and I’m a pretty good shot. He won’t get anywhere near us,” he said.

Einar sounded so sure of himself to Lana’s ears. She had seen her attacker break a dead mans joints and stuff him into a bag, no matter how confidant Einar sounded Lana couldn't fully shake the pall of fear draped over her. He squeezed her hand and said, “Tomorrow we leave for the cabin.”

The air was beginning to chill and Einar got up and said, “Do you want to head in side and I’ll make us a nice strong cup of coffee?” Lana nodded and they cleared up their picnic and went back inside the bungalow.

“You’ve been honest with me,” Einar said passing a steaming mug of fresh brewed coffee to Lana, “I think it’s time I did the same for you.” He sat on the battered couch beside Lana and stared into the steam rising up from his mug.

“We shouldn’t have been out there that day,” Einar said taking a sip of his coffee, “there were reports of a huge storm heading our way, it was coming down from the coast of Greenland and picking up force. It was still two days away so we took the chance. Do you ever have that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you just know something is not right?” Lana nodded yes. “It must be some part of our animal brains picking up something that we aren't fully perceiving. I had that feeling all morning before we left. I wish I had of spoke up, even though I don’t think it would have changed anything.” He moved his chair back from the table and turned slightly away from Lana as he continued. He didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke.

“We were off out in the boat by about four in the morning. It was another of those beautiful Icelandic summer mornings. Sky as blue as a watercolour painting, birds sweeping low in the sky behind the boat as we sailed out. We where heading a couple of kilometres off the coast to an area we had been having great luck with catching mackerel. This was a fish that wasn't always in Icelandic waters, but that summer had been particularly warm and it was drawing them in,” he took another sip of coffee still not meeting her eyes. Lana sat across from him holding her cup for warmth.