Bear

Chapter 10: Birdie

A/N: HOLY CRUDBALLS, BEAR HAS REACHED 1K READS!! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! Here's a chapter to celebrate... Happy reading! 

***

Bear makes a call to one of his buddies asking— more like ordering— him to come pick up his bike. We wait almost half an hour before a guy, not much older than 20 pulls up in a truck.

Bear hands off his keys, threatening the guy that if he gets so much as a scratch on his bike, that he'll end him but the playful glint in his eye is enough to show that he doesn't really mean it. Not sure if the kid knows that though.

We pile into the truck and he takes me home. I assume that he'd just drop me off, but he follows me up the drive and through the front door. I manage to get the washing off the line, just as it starts to drizzle, setting the clean clothes on the table.

"Birdie, you need to pack a bag." Bear's deep grunt cuts through the silence. I swivel round to stare at him with brows raised, but he avoids my eyes rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "The Vipers probably saw me here, so it means they know where you live. It's not safe for you to stay here."

My entire mind goes blank— words completely escaping me.

"You'll be safe at the Soul Reapers clubhouse." Bear tries to assure me with his words, but I'm still stuck on his previous words. The Vipers saw me here.

I don't even know what to feel, but somehow I feel it all. Disbelief, that the one place that is mine, the one place that I'm supposed to be safe is now the one place I'm not. Upset, that I now have to leave said place without any real preparation or desire to. Anger at Bear for both leaving and also unwittingly drawing me into his shit, but really I know I'm more angry at myself.

I should have known better; I did know better. Getting involved with Bear could only have brought trouble, and yet still I did it anyway. See ladies, this is what happens when you think with your fanny instead of your head.

As much as I want to chew Bear's head off, I know that yelling at him won't make much of a difference. So I head upstairs grabbing some clothes and toiletries making sure to grab my lanyard and keys for work, my phone charger and my pager too.

Bear didn't exactly give me a timeline, but I doubt I'll be back home before I have to go back to work on Monday.

When I head back down the stairs, Bear is finishing up a phone call, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since he dropped the whole 'you can't stay at your own house because of me' situation.

"Ready?"

I nod, refusing to say a word. I mean, I know it probably wasn't his intention when he came over last night, and we aren't together or anything but I'm still pissed off at him; at the very least he should apologise right?

He picks up my bag, slinging it over his shoulder. His big warm hand finds the small of my back, guiding me back out the front door. I lock up, sliding into the cab of the truck with him, fighting the ridiculous urge to cry as my little house gets further and further away.

***

Bear picks up on my mood as soon as I shrug off his hand from my leg when he tries to touch me. It stays quiet between us for most of the drive, and honestly I'm okay with that. At least it gives me time to think.

In the space of 24 hours my life has been flipped on its head— I should've known sex that good had to be too good to be true.

I have no idea where this leaves Bear and I; though it's not exactly like I knew where we stood before. But having to stay at his clubhouse— where he lives— I can't help but feel this complicates things a little.