Page 62 of Trusting Her Bear

“Not at all. I went a long time here without them knowing.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult for you.”

“I will always do what is best for you. If I have to be transparent for that to happen, I will.” I cup the side of her neck. “I will do anything.”

“I know,” she whispers.

“Are you afraid?” I ask.

“No.” She pushes closer. “As long as I’m with you, I won’t be.”

I kiss her forehead and close my eyes. “Your trust means everything.” I feel Bash’s presence enter the building, but he’s not the only one. I pull on Steph’s hip, turning her to my side and keeping my arm around her as we face them.

This should be interesting.

“Who are the men outside?” Bash asks. “And why is he here?” he sneers at Heath, who walks in behind him.

“He’s with me,” Micah offers when he catches up.

“Since when?” Bash asks.

“It’s a long story.” Micah leans against the wall next to me. Bash stops on the other side of Steph, his arms crossed.

“Vampire,” Heath greets and sits elegantly in the chair in front of us.

“When Kade and Cash are done, we’ll get started.” I look at all of them sternly. “I don’t want any shit. I have some things to say I don’t want to say.”

“Who are Kade and Cash?” Heath asks.

“They work for me.” I pull up the pictures of the building. “Bash, this is why we are here.” He cautiously reaches for it as Kade and Cash walk in.

“What the fuck,” Bash snarls.

“I am going to give a brief summary.” I hold Bash’s eyes since it is mostly all new information to him. “I worked with Heath and Micah for a very long time. We were part of an organization that killed out-of-control shifters and vampires. We were very good at our jobs. I met with both of them this morning to inform them of the message I received from someone I assume is tied to my time doing those jobs. My mate has gotten two messages, the second one as we were leaving to come here. I’m pissed. I want this taken care of quickly.”

Bash's only reaction is a slow blink. “Have you traced the number?”

I appreciate him cutting through to the important part. “I have my guy on it. I haven’t checked in with him yet or told him about the other messages, but usually, if he finds something, he’ll call.”

“Who do you think it is?” Bash asks.

“I think it is a family member or friend of someone I killed,” I state.

“How long is the list of the people you killed?” Bash asks.

“Too long.”

“Are the calls from the same number?” Bash asks.

“No.”

“Do you want me to keep this to just the group in this room?” He hands me my phone back.

“No.”

“No?” His eyebrow shoots up.

“I am telling you. I don’t want to tell anyone else or answer any questions from anyone else. You are free to tell them.”

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