Read Online Timberman Werebear (Saw Bears Book 3) by T. S. Joyce - Free Book Online
Authors: T. S. Joyce
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murmured, his face only inches from hers. “Do you know what you smell like from here?”
“Denison,” she gritted out.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby. You smell like an Ashe Crew whore.”
Fury, red and hot, blasted up her arm. She drew back and slapped him hard. “Don’t you talk to me like that. I’m with Denison. I’m not anyone’s whore.”
Matt’s blazing blue eyes filled with hatred, and he leaned forward and gripped her hair, then yanked her to him and kissed her so hard she tasted iron. Danielle struggled against his impossible grip. Where were Skyler and Brooke? She searched for them out of her peripheral vision, but they seemed to be blocked out of the alleyway by a trio of equally big men with Gray Back Crew T-shirts on. Shit.
Matt released her throbbing lip and growled out, “You should’ve picked a real man to fuck you first. Now you’ll never know better.”
Something big and powerful launched her backward, and when she sat up, Matt wasn’t taunting her anymore. He was locked up, absorbing blow after blow from Brighton. Brighton?
Strong arms picked her up and turned her out of the alley. It was Bruiser, and Drew was waiting with his arms crossed, watching Brighton beat the stuffing out of Matt. The giant was getting in a punch here and there, but Brighton was lethal and didn’t even react to the crushing blows Matt snuck in.
Holy shit, he was fast.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Bruiser said. “Brighton.”
Just like that, Brighton pushed Matt into a couple of Gray Backs and followed her out of the alley. They led her through a maze of vendors, Bruiser’s hands never straying from the upper part of her arm. When they came to an abandoned tent with a few scattered tables, Brighton took her hand and led her to the farthest one. Easing her down into a plastic chair, he jerked his head to the others and Bruiser and Drew backed off.
“Brighton, Skyler and Brooke were back there,” she wheezed out, panicked.
He shook his head and stripped his shirt off, then looked behind him as if he were making sure they weren’t being followed. “They’re okay.” His voice wasn’t a voice at all, but a barely audible whisper of air. “Tagan and Haydan have them.”
Her throbbing lip took a backseat to her shock. “You can talk?”
He pointed to a long, red mark where his short beard didn’t grow whiskers on his neck. “No,” he rasped out, voiceless.
She didn’t understand. “Is that a scar? Did someone do this to you?”
She could see him close down on her. The emotion in his emerald green eyes went dead. He inhaled deeply and whispered, “Denison can’t see you like this. He’ll kill them.”
Brighton dabbed the side of her lip, and when he pulled his shirt away, it was smeared with crimson. Son of a mother fluffin’ biscuit eater. Matt, that dick-faced weasel-turd had made her bleed with his uninvited kiss.
Brighton stared at her lip with a frown, then turned to Drew, who jogged over. He pulled at her lip and leaned in close, studying the cut. “He didn’t get her deep enough. She won’t Turn.”
Brighton huffed out a relieved-sounding sigh and leaned his head back, then stared at her with his dark eyebrows arched high.
Slowly, she asked, “Turn me into what?”
All Brighton whispered before he pulled his shirt on and dragged her back out of the tent was, “A Gray Back.”
Chapter Seven
Brighton could talk. Okay, he couldn’t make sound, but he could communicate, and as far as Danielle could remember, he’d never whispered to her before. And right now, he was guiding her through the crowd with his hand protectively on her lower back with Bruiser and Drew flanking them.
“Brighton?”
He cast her a quick glance.
“How did you know to come find us?”
He leaned in close so she could hear the brush of air that formed his words. “You called for Denison. He was too far away.”
She hadn’t actually called for Denison. She’d said his name, at normal volume,
“Denison,” she gritted out.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby. You smell like an Ashe Crew whore.”
Fury, red and hot, blasted up her arm. She drew back and slapped him hard. “Don’t you talk to me like that. I’m with Denison. I’m not anyone’s whore.”
Matt’s blazing blue eyes filled with hatred, and he leaned forward and gripped her hair, then yanked her to him and kissed her so hard she tasted iron. Danielle struggled against his impossible grip. Where were Skyler and Brooke? She searched for them out of her peripheral vision, but they seemed to be blocked out of the alleyway by a trio of equally big men with Gray Back Crew T-shirts on. Shit.
Matt released her throbbing lip and growled out, “You should’ve picked a real man to fuck you first. Now you’ll never know better.”
Something big and powerful launched her backward, and when she sat up, Matt wasn’t taunting her anymore. He was locked up, absorbing blow after blow from Brighton. Brighton?
Strong arms picked her up and turned her out of the alley. It was Bruiser, and Drew was waiting with his arms crossed, watching Brighton beat the stuffing out of Matt. The giant was getting in a punch here and there, but Brighton was lethal and didn’t even react to the crushing blows Matt snuck in.
Holy shit, he was fast.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Bruiser said. “Brighton.”
Just like that, Brighton pushed Matt into a couple of Gray Backs and followed her out of the alley. They led her through a maze of vendors, Bruiser’s hands never straying from the upper part of her arm. When they came to an abandoned tent with a few scattered tables, Brighton took her hand and led her to the farthest one. Easing her down into a plastic chair, he jerked his head to the others and Bruiser and Drew backed off.
“Brighton, Skyler and Brooke were back there,” she wheezed out, panicked.
He shook his head and stripped his shirt off, then looked behind him as if he were making sure they weren’t being followed. “They’re okay.” His voice wasn’t a voice at all, but a barely audible whisper of air. “Tagan and Haydan have them.”
Her throbbing lip took a backseat to her shock. “You can talk?”
He pointed to a long, red mark where his short beard didn’t grow whiskers on his neck. “No,” he rasped out, voiceless.
She didn’t understand. “Is that a scar? Did someone do this to you?”
She could see him close down on her. The emotion in his emerald green eyes went dead. He inhaled deeply and whispered, “Denison can’t see you like this. He’ll kill them.”
Brighton dabbed the side of her lip, and when he pulled his shirt away, it was smeared with crimson. Son of a mother fluffin’ biscuit eater. Matt, that dick-faced weasel-turd had made her bleed with his uninvited kiss.
Brighton stared at her lip with a frown, then turned to Drew, who jogged over. He pulled at her lip and leaned in close, studying the cut. “He didn’t get her deep enough. She won’t Turn.”
Brighton huffed out a relieved-sounding sigh and leaned his head back, then stared at her with his dark eyebrows arched high.
Slowly, she asked, “Turn me into what?”
All Brighton whispered before he pulled his shirt on and dragged her back out of the tent was, “A Gray Back.”
Chapter Seven
Brighton could talk. Okay, he couldn’t make sound, but he could communicate, and as far as Danielle could remember, he’d never whispered to her before. And right now, he was guiding her through the crowd with his hand protectively on her lower back with Bruiser and Drew flanking them.
“Brighton?”
He cast her a quick glance.
“How did you know to come find us?”
He leaned in close so she could hear the brush of air that formed his words. “You called for Denison. He was too far away.”
She hadn’t actually called for Denison. She’d said his name, at normal volume,
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