He drops his head in despair.

“You really want to go?”

“I want to be a journalist,” I tell him. “Arealjournalist. This is what I signed up for.”

He shakes his head as he watches me, but I can tell he’s cracking.

“Contreras says you can bring one person with you. A cameraman.”

“Cool, I’ll bring Steve.”

I drop Walter’s laptop and phone on his desk and race to the door. “Steve!” I shout as I stick my head out. “Want to go to El Nicanduras?”

“Not a chance,” he shouts back.

“Anyone?” I ask, looking around the office. Everyone is suddenly very busy with their computers. “Oh, come on! You call yourselves journalists?”

“Gracie,” Walter says, waving me back into the office. I close the door and retake my seat. “You’re not bringing a cameraman. I’m sending you with a bodyguard.”

“But I need a cameraman to?—”

“This is not up for discussion,” he says, interrupting me in a forceful tone. “I’m letting you go against my better judgment, but I’m not budging on this. You’ll have a bodyguard by your side at all times. He can record the interview.”

I don’t like it, but I nod and agree. I’ve pushed this man enough for one day, plus it might make me feel a bit better to have some muscle beside me, even though it won’t do much good if the machetes and bullets start flying.

“Okay,” I say. “Fair enough.”

“I know this great security place out of Montana,” he says as he opens a desk drawer and starts riffing through some papers. “Spartan Shield Corp. They have the best bodyguards around. We’ll find someone very capable for you.”

I grin as he looks through his desk for the card.

I’m heading to El Nicanduras for an exclusive interview with Hector Contreras…

I can’t believe it!

CHAPTER THREE

Ryker

“Will you fucking stop?” I hiss as my damn inner grizzly bear snarls in my ear. He’s been out of control lately—growling ferociously, pacing nonstop, and keeping me up all night with his bullshit.

He’s always been a temperamental prick, but it’s never been this bad.

“I’m driving,” I snarl back as he tries to claw and hack his way out. I flex my arms, grit my teeth, and grunt as I force him back down. My truck swerves off the road, kicking up a cloud of dirt as I yank it back onto the concrete. The place I’m driving to is a secluded spot on some Montana farm, so there are no cars around, but still. I’d rather not wrap my new truck around a fucking tree because this furry asshole is having a temper tantrum.

My grizzly growls in frustration as he paces around, probably waiting for another chance to try and break free. He better nottry that shit during my job interview. That’s the last thing I need. I’ll kill him if he blows this for us.

“If you chill out for the next two hours,” I tell him, “I’ll let you roam through the forest when we get home.” I’m not sure if he understands, but he grumbles and settles down a little.

I look at the GPS now that he’s not snarling in my ear. Eight minutes away.

I have a job interview at Spartan Shield Corp with a guy named Cerberus. My uncle Maddox hooked me up with a meeting after I told him I’d been having some trouble lately. He’s worked with the company in the past and has made some good money as a bodyguard.

But it’s not really the money I need. It’s the action. I need a fight. I need to get my blood pumping. My bear is constantly on edge and I need something to keep him distracted. I need something to help burn through all of this adrenaline-fused aggression, and my uncle suggested this.

“Finally,” I whisper when my bear settles down. His angry snarls turn into sad pathetic whimpers. I close my eyes and shake my head. I can’t win with this fucking bear.

He’s desperate to find our mate. It’s driving him mad.