Read Online River Bear (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Blue Bear Rescue) by Terra Wolf, Holly Eastman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Terra Wolf, Holly Eastman
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the other side or not, but she didn’t spot any movement as Jake rolled past and pulled a wide U-turn.
Jake parked in front, angling them back toward the main road, and cut the engine. Before she could step out, he reached across her and opened the glove box. “Here,” he said, handing her a revolver. “For when you want to make noise,” he explained.
She snorted and checked it for bullets. Yep, loaded. She got out, lifting her shirt and tucking the gun at the small of her back. She caught Jake watching with brows raised and gave him a smirk. “See something you like?”
She wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate her teasing considering the circumstances, but he just grinned back at her. “Damn straight,” he said and then sobered quickly. “Now, listen. I’m knocking on the front. You’re going around the back. If anyone takes off, follow safely. Do you hear me? Don’t get close enough to get grabbed.”
She shot him a look. “I have done this once or twice, you know,” she reminded him.
He scowled. “Not with me, you haven’t,” he grumbled, and she grinned. “I mean it. This is recon only, Xavier’s orders, all right?” he pressed.
“Got it, boss,” she said, rolling her eyes, and he shooed her around back.
Leaves and pine needles crackled under her feet as she went. No point in trying to be stealthy now. They’d already made an entrance anyway, pulling right up in Jake’s truck like that. At least it didn’t have the Blue Bear Search and Rescue logo on it, but if there really was someone here making those fliers, they’d take one look out their front door and know who Jake was and what he’d come for.
She made her way to the back of the cabin, reflexes ready, an ear trained on the front door. She heard the moment Jake knocked and held her breath, pausing to crouch beside the tiny back porch that led straight into the woods behind her.
No sounds came from inside the house.
Jake knocked again. “Hello?” he called.
Nothing. God, this was torture. She’d never been on the back end of this before. She preferred point man to back up any day. Sitting around, waiting for something to jump out sucked worse than heading in, face first.
Inside, she caught the sound of a muffled voice. Furniture moved; a chair dragged across the floor.
Delilah reached slowly to her back and gripped the gun.
Inside, someone yelled loudly, and the back door banged open, ripping free of the top hinge. A figure, slim and wiry and yelling crazily, launched himself off the porch. Delilah jumped back, but not in time.
The man hit her shoulder as he landed and she went rolling ass over elbows. She caught a glimpse of him just as he disappeared into the trees. The fourth man from Mack’s. The quiet one. She’d never learned his name, but she remembered his face.
She struggled to her knees, intent on getting to her feet and chasing him, but a second figure appeared from the house. Another of Lyle’s men. The one Laurel had recognized. He came at a dead run and even though she threw herself sideways, she knew she wasn’t getting out of the way in time. This one jumped and landed on top of her, and she felt the air escape from her lungs.
“Stupid bitch!” the guy yelled as he scrambled up. His fist reared back and swung out, and Delilah rolled sideways so that he hooked her on the arm instead of the jaw.
She winced and rolled clear, coming up to her knees and then her feet as the guy took off. She caught up to him and tackled him from behind; the gun Jake had given her pressing sharply into her lower back where she’d tucked it as they both went down again. She hooked her ankles and used the momentum of their weight to drive him down and her up. She sat on his torso using her knees to pin his arms and her feet to hold his legs like she’d been taught at the police academy.
“Who made the fliers?” she demanded.
He squirmed and struggled and spat at her.
She narrowed her eyes and yanked him by the collar,
Jake parked in front, angling them back toward the main road, and cut the engine. Before she could step out, he reached across her and opened the glove box. “Here,” he said, handing her a revolver. “For when you want to make noise,” he explained.
She snorted and checked it for bullets. Yep, loaded. She got out, lifting her shirt and tucking the gun at the small of her back. She caught Jake watching with brows raised and gave him a smirk. “See something you like?”
She wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate her teasing considering the circumstances, but he just grinned back at her. “Damn straight,” he said and then sobered quickly. “Now, listen. I’m knocking on the front. You’re going around the back. If anyone takes off, follow safely. Do you hear me? Don’t get close enough to get grabbed.”
She shot him a look. “I have done this once or twice, you know,” she reminded him.
He scowled. “Not with me, you haven’t,” he grumbled, and she grinned. “I mean it. This is recon only, Xavier’s orders, all right?” he pressed.
“Got it, boss,” she said, rolling her eyes, and he shooed her around back.
Leaves and pine needles crackled under her feet as she went. No point in trying to be stealthy now. They’d already made an entrance anyway, pulling right up in Jake’s truck like that. At least it didn’t have the Blue Bear Search and Rescue logo on it, but if there really was someone here making those fliers, they’d take one look out their front door and know who Jake was and what he’d come for.
She made her way to the back of the cabin, reflexes ready, an ear trained on the front door. She heard the moment Jake knocked and held her breath, pausing to crouch beside the tiny back porch that led straight into the woods behind her.
No sounds came from inside the house.
Jake knocked again. “Hello?” he called.
Nothing. God, this was torture. She’d never been on the back end of this before. She preferred point man to back up any day. Sitting around, waiting for something to jump out sucked worse than heading in, face first.
Inside, she caught the sound of a muffled voice. Furniture moved; a chair dragged across the floor.
Delilah reached slowly to her back and gripped the gun.
Inside, someone yelled loudly, and the back door banged open, ripping free of the top hinge. A figure, slim and wiry and yelling crazily, launched himself off the porch. Delilah jumped back, but not in time.
The man hit her shoulder as he landed and she went rolling ass over elbows. She caught a glimpse of him just as he disappeared into the trees. The fourth man from Mack’s. The quiet one. She’d never learned his name, but she remembered his face.
She struggled to her knees, intent on getting to her feet and chasing him, but a second figure appeared from the house. Another of Lyle’s men. The one Laurel had recognized. He came at a dead run and even though she threw herself sideways, she knew she wasn’t getting out of the way in time. This one jumped and landed on top of her, and she felt the air escape from her lungs.
“Stupid bitch!” the guy yelled as he scrambled up. His fist reared back and swung out, and Delilah rolled sideways so that he hooked her on the arm instead of the jaw.
She winced and rolled clear, coming up to her knees and then her feet as the guy took off. She caught up to him and tackled him from behind; the gun Jake had given her pressing sharply into her lower back where she’d tucked it as they both went down again. She hooked her ankles and used the momentum of their weight to drive him down and her up. She sat on his torso using her knees to pin his arms and her feet to hold his legs like she’d been taught at the police academy.
“Who made the fliers?” she demanded.
He squirmed and struggled and spat at her.
She narrowed her eyes and yanked him by the collar,
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