Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(19)

"I'm sure you will," Boston said. "But don't do anything stupid until you talk to me about it. You can do whatever stupid thing you want afterwards, but you can't do it before I know what you're aiming to pull."

The smile on Ryan's lips lingered. He remembered the way her hair smelled when she was near, how much he wanted to hold her and kiss her in those few moments where she was against his skin, burning hot, and he was still conscious. He remembered how her fingers felt in his hair, how the bare skin on her arms felt around his neck, how her teeth...

"You okay?" Boston said, turning back from the door as he was leaving. "You're kinda gigglin' over there. Sounds like you're havin' some kind of dream."

"Something like that," Ryan whispered. "Or maybe it's a nightmare, and I just haven't realized it yet."

"Keep your eyes open, son," Boston said. "Do what your heart says, but make sure it ain't tricking you."

Ryan nodded, narrowing his eyes.

The door clicked shut as his uncle drew it closed. "If only you knew," Ryan whispered. "I'm not sure I mind though. Maybe it's time I really let my heart lead. Fall into a trap or two, just to see what it feels like?" He shook his head, still smiling. "First, I have to set one and let it spring. I need her, and without knowing... really knowing if it's just me being me, and wanting yet another person who doesn't want anything to do with me?"

He shook his head. "Fool me once, shame on me. And nobody - nobody fools me twice."

Seconds later, he was stripping down, and a few after that, he was on the ground, chill dampness from the grass underneath wet against the knee he was driving into it.

Maybe it's time to stop fighting my feelings? Maybe it's time to just give in? He thought as his hair turned to fur, his bones shifted and his muscles thickened. Maybe I can do both at once?





-7-


“No, really, this is a brilliant idea. Really. I’m serious.”


-Ryan


He didn't think his plan was stupid, but Ryan was relatively sure his uncle would think it exactly that.

To be fair, breaking into a couple of grocery stores and stealing a load of canned goods to lure a girl to come and look for him? Yeah, maybe it did just have a little tinge of insanity. But still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

I'm still gonna need some way to carry all this stuff, Ryan realized as he shifted back to his very naked human form. Doesn't matter how strong I am, I'm not gonna carry a ton of groceries twenty miles an armful at a time. I could go back, get a truck? Too much noise.

He crouched in a shadow near the loading dock of Fresh Land. Over his head, a primitive security camera panned back and forth, noisily recording an arc about thirty feet across. Each sweep took the big, boxy, age-yellowed camera forty-two seconds.

Ryan might have some experience with this sort of thing. To break or not to break? He considered, running his hand through his hair before pulling it back in a short ponytail with one of the elastic bands he always had around his wrist. How much do I want to give away? How much bait do I need to leave? Jamie's a smart girl. She'll probably figure it out as soon as she hears the news, but then again, I don't want to leave anything to chance.

The last time he left something to chance was the first time he got caught. Last time, too. He remembered the lights, the sirens, and the panic.

He bought his way out of that one, but he probably wouldn't get so lucky again. In fact, he knew he wouldn't. Not here, anyway. Especially since he didn't have a fortune to fall back on anymore. That fortune went to buy his way out of said trouble the first time. Ryan smiled up at the camera.

"Can you hear me?" he asked, waiting for the acknowledging click of the camera recognizing sound. It never came. "Wow," he said. "Not even a sound detector? This'd been easy for me when I was like twelve."

It started as a hobby - getting into places he shouldn't have been. Then it became a career. Then, it turned into a wild-eyed, frenzied crusade. And then, of course, he got caught, and it all came crashing down. He swore when he weaseled out of trouble that he'd never pop another lock unless it was on his own front door.

Then again, desperate times, desperate measures.

What started as a way to atone had turned into an impossible war that he loved more than anything - protecting people who couldn't do it for themselves, no matter the cost to his emotions, or his health, or...

He thought of Jamie as the bricks scratched his naked back. The camera whirred endlessly back and forth, watching the darkness for a threat that was already there, and past, the sad little line of defense. In a strange way, he felt sorry for the machine. It had one job to do, but by no fault of its own, couldn't manage.

Ryan blinked hard, forcing himself not to fall into an existential pit.

He remembered how she'd watched him at the courtroom, how graceful and elegant she was, even when she was feigning irritation or when she was knocking him the hell out. How she'd disarmed him, surprised him.

I got sloppy, I got arrogant and I screwed up. But she just surprised me. I must just be rusty.

There was no getting her out of his head. Nothing he did banished the thoughts of those long, black tendrils of hair, or those calm, cool, gray eyes.

He pushed himself to his feet using his shoulders against the wall for leverage. "But," he said out loud, since no one - not even the little camera that could - was listening. "But that has to wait. She'll come or she won't. She wants me or she doesn't. I can't control her. Hell, I don't want to control her. All I can control is this, right here. Come on, Ryan, do what you do."