Page 67 of Mated to the Mountain Bear

BEN

Zara goes limp in my arms, as if all the fight has left her body, and she’s given up, but she’s not fooling me. This is a woman who’s fought to stay one step ahead of her stalker for a long time now. She climbed out a window and down a tree, for god’s sake.

The second I let go of her, she’s going to bolt again. She’s just playing possum.

Instead of setting her down on her feet, I carry her back to the couch and unceremoniously drop her onto the cushions. I stare down at her until she stops bouncing, scowling at me as she shoves back up to a sitting position.

She doesn’t know just how serious her situation is, that it’s not me she needs to be worried about.

Jerry walks over and plonks his haunches on the floor, looking at her, confused. I rub his head to let him know it’s okay, that she’s still our friend, she just doesn’t understand yet. She’s not leaving here until he does, but I have no idea where to go from here.

Her eyes dart to the door again, and I growl, despite my attempts not to.

“I won’t hurt you,” I repeat. “But you had to see. You’d never have believed me otherwise.”

Zara lifts her eyes briefly to mine before looking away. “You scared me.”

Her small voice breaks my heart. She’s been through so much, and it feels like I’m only making things worse.

“And I’m sorry for that.”

I’m standing in front of Zara, arms folded over my chest, and she blinks up at me rapidly before her gaze drops. And keeps dropping.

I need to get through to her somehow.

“Can you please promise you’re not going to run until I’ve explained? I know this is a lot, but it’s not me you need to worry about. It’s the guy outside.”

She looks toward the window and swallows hard. Her breathing is uneven.

“Zara, look at me,” I demand.

She keeps her eyes firmly on... the floor. The wall. The cushion. Anywhere but me.

“Beau knew what he was doing when he left you here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Her cheeks are turning pink.

“Zara, please say something.”

She shakes her head, finally meeting my eyes with visible effort. “I know, Ben.” Her face is now crimson as she lifts her eyes to the ceiling.

“So you’re not gonna run?”

Her gaze drifts down again before snapping back up. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you going to run?”

She bites her lip, eyes glazing slightly. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”

That’s the least convincing answer I’ve ever heard.

When I raise an eyebrow, she slaps a hand over her eyes with an exasperated groan.

“Ben, seriously.” She squeals and raises one hand and waves it up and down my body.

Christ, she’s not scared. She’s staring at my…

I grab the blanket from the couch and wrap it around my waist. “Better?”