Page 7 of Saving Meri

Bear studied her for a moment, unreadable. Then he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. "You want to walk out that door?" He nodded toward it. "Go ahead."

Her breath caught, her mind trying to process the lack of resistance. No threat. No demand. Just… a choice.

Her body, traitorous and unsure, didn't move.

Bear didn't push. He just sat there, waiting, his gaze steady.

"If you're gonna run," he said, voice softer now, "do it when you've got the strength."

She glared at him. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not." His tone was firm, unshaken. "Just stating facts. You think you can make it out there alone, in the shape you’re in?" His eyes swept over her, taking in the too-thin frame, the bruises, the exhaustion hanging off her like a second skin. "You can’t, but you're free to try."

Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. Freedom. The word should have meant something. Felt like something. But after months of captivity, of being owned and used, she didn't even know what it meant anymore.

Bear sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Look, I get it. You don’t trust me. But I didn’t pull you out of that hell just to lock you in another one."

Meri lifted her chin. "Didn’t you? Then why?"

His jaw flexed. "Because I don’t leave people behind. We couldn’t get to you the last time we located you. It wasn’t going to happen again."

Something in his voice made her pause. A truth she wasn’t ready to accept.

Meri licked her lips, still dry, still cracked. "You bought me." The words felt like acid in her throat.

Bear’s expression darkened. "I bid on you to keep the others away from you so I could get you the hell out of there. That’s not the same thing."

She wanted to believe that. She really did, but trust wasn’t something she could just give.

Bear pushed to his feet, moving with measured strength, like a man who was always ready for a fight but never wasted energy. He crossed the room and picked up a glass of water from the nightstand, then held it out to her.

Meri hesitated.

"It’s just water," he said. "Drink it. You need it. You’re dehydrated."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she took the glass. The moment the cool liquid hit her throat, she realized just how thirsty she was. She drained half of it in one go, then forced herself to stop, glaring up at him.

"I don’t need you taking care of me."

Bear tilted his head. "Think not?"

She clenched her jaw. "I can take care of myself."

He let that hang between them for a beat, then gestured toward her shaking hands, the bruises, the hollowness in her cheeks. "I’m glad you think so. I disagree."

Her gut twisted. She hated him then, hated him for being right. Hated herself more for caring.

Bear stepped back, his hands at his sides, but there was something about the way he held himself—still dominant, still in control.

"You’re safe," he said again, like he knew she needed to hear it. "No one here is going to touch you. No one is going to use you. And no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. Not while I’m breathing."

Meri’s throat went tight. She wanted to believe him, but she’d believed before, and look where it had gotten her. She set the water down; her gaze locked on his, searching for deception, for cruelty, for any sign that he was just another man making empty promises. All she found was steel and certainty.

Meri inhaled slowly, centering herself. She told herself she wasn’t broken, wasn’t weak, and would never be owned again. Never. Bear seemed to read her thoughts because his mouth ticked up slightly at the corner, almost like a challenge.

"You want to fight me on this, go ahead," he said. "But eventually, you’ll see I don’t lie, Meri."

She swallowed hard, ignoring the way his voice curled around her name, the way something deep inside her responded to it.

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