Page 11 of Trusting Her Bear

“Don’t rush. We can wait.”

“Okay.” I drop to my knees by my bag. “I won’t be long.”

“See you in a few.” She hangs up, and I throw my phone over my shoulder, and it bounces on the bed.

I bundle a pair of jeans, an oversized black sweatshirt, underwear, and a clean bra in my arms. Glancing at the door to make sure it is still locked, I run into the bathroom.

I dump everything on the counter, move to the shower, and adjust the water to scalding. I fold my pajamas and am grateful there is a laundry basket in the corner to put my dirty bra and panties in.

Breeane thought of everything. My brand of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are ready for me on the shelves of the shower, and a new razor is hanging from the rack under the showerhead. She is the best sister, which I would never admit to my blood sister. Gabby is my younger sister and wonderful, but I have more of a mother-daughter type of relationship with her.

When I decided to move, I wanted Breeane to come with me, and I’m lucky she was open to it. The bakery is her dream, but I know she hates the business side of opening her own place. I went to school for business and received my associate degree, which I have hardly used. At least I can contribute somehow because I can’t bake like she can. Thinking of being under a time limit to make things for an order makes me hyperventilate. I can cook a little, but I do not do well under pressure.

I finish washing my body and make sure the shampoo is out of my hair before adding conditioner. My hair used to be above my shoulders, but I have been trying to let it grow. It reaches just below now and has a natural wave. I wanted to look different after I was back home, however I could.

I leave the shower and find towels in the cupboard beside the sink.

The bakery door opens, and I pick up my pace.

The best way to describe my style is comfortable. I usually wear jeans, sweatshirts, tanks, and T-shirts. I slide on one of my favorite pairs of light blue jeans with holes scattered in them.

Brushing my hair quickly, I pull my shirt over my head. It hangs off one shoulder and bunches at my hips. I don’t bother with makeup because I don't want to take the time to find and apply it.

Sitting on the bed, I slip on socks and boots.

I reach for the door handle but pause. Am I ready to see her?

I left this town as fast as I could. I didn’t look back. Now look at me. I was nervous and shaky at the thought of seeing the woman responsible for my freedom.

Shaking my head, I leave the room. I don’t let myself stop moving as I swipe the keys off the table, unlock the front door, and relock it after I pass through.

I slowly descend the stairs, and my foot hovers on the next step when I hear Ava's familiar voice.

Closing my eyes, I am transported back. I was awake when they carried her unconscious body to the cage beside mine. I stared as they threw her inside, not caring if they hurt her or if it jolted her awake. The sound of the door clanging shut and the lock engaging brings tears to my eyes even now. I looked at her and felt so freaking sad. I was also surprised that they took a human. She hadn’t been turned by her wolf mates yet.

In the beginning, I would give anyone new a rundown of what to expect and introduce myself. It gave me a sense of normalcy. It seems silly now. We still had our independence taken away. We still had to live in a small cage, eating the dog food, sleeping with no cover, and hiding as well as we could when they decided to hunt us.

It didn’t take long for my welcoming speech to turn monotone. Ava’s welcome was the last speech I gave. I am grateful, yet sorry she was at the receiving end of my hopelessness. I was also angry that she was so sure she would be rescued. There was an instant in which I wanted to break her down as much as we were.

Guilt slides through me.

I open my eyes when I hear her laughter.

I resume my steps, knowing I can’t hide forever. I need to face her and my guilt.

Their laughter cuts off as I round the corner. Ava is a wolf shifter now, and I can smell the change, but her human scent is still under the surface. She has pretty brown hair that flows just past her shoulders. Her light brown eyes are filled with understanding and kindness.

“Stephanie,” she smiles and walks over. “You look beautiful.”

“You can call me Steph,” I tell her, studying her cautiously. I don’t see any hesitance in her expression. “You aren’t upset?” I blurt.

She jerks back. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Shit,” I mumble. I shouldn’t have said anything, but now that I started, I have to explain. “I wanted to apologize. The way I talked to you was harsh, especially since you saved us all. You saved me from the man that was chasing you.” A man used me as a shield to coax Ava from a tree where she was hiding. She gave herself up so I could get away.

“Steph, no,” she says, reaching for my hands.

I hesitantly put my hands in hers. “It’s been playing in my head ever since. I was glad he didn’t hurt you. If you would have stayed hidden, he couldn’t do anything to you.”

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