A Lion Shame (Bear Creek Grizzlies Book 3) (14 page)

I
t took forever
to clean up at the cabin. Tate was the only one who could put the drug car back together, and he made sure it looked pristine for the raid in the morning. Time ticked away, though, and Tate didn't want any of them lingering in the area in case one of the agencies got froggy and went earlier than dawn. He kept looking for SJ even after the sheriff said his sister took Sarah Jane back to town.

The realization of how much he needed her hit him over the head like a baseball bat. Even in the middle of the fight, he'd had perfect clarity. She was exactly what he needed. And exactly what he wanted.

Kira had been injured in the fight to protect the baby, so Ethan nearly lost his mind, but she shifted back to human and the healing took care of the rest. She still had a few scratches but nothing that required a trip to the hospital. Ethan's medical training was enough to stitch her up, even though he kept getting distracted by Kira herself. Simon shoved them into one of the SUVs to go back to the Lodge before things got out of hand, and then Tate was alone in the clearing as the wolves faded back into the trees and Cooper waited to drive him back to town.

Tate hadn't checked the compartment behind the license plate on the shitty sedan. Part of him didn't want to know if she hid the money. The gamble sort of worked out. But he finally popped the license plate and clicked the switches, and revealed the empty compartment. She'd emptied out all the cash. Tate hoped they could get it back fast enough to re-pack the car before the raid. The cops might not look kindly on someone stealing that much money, even if Killswitch was in the driver's seat.

Cooper drove, but not fast enough for Tate. He stared out the window and tried to calm the lion. At least he'd brought a change of clothes and didn't end up naked or in borrowed sweatpants after the rage-shift.

Cooper handed him something and said, "They found this next to the other car. Simon said it's yours."

The burner phone. He frowned at it, but tucked it away just in case something came up. Sarah Jane had been one of the last people to touch it — it still smelled a little like her, even through the cheap plastic.

Tate didn't speak though, and it wasn't long until Cooper tried again, clearing his throat. "We heard from Zoe at the hospital. Rosie's awake and doing better. They might end up keeping her for a few days, just to make sure there weren't any internal injuries. Zoe said she wasn't healing as fast as she should have, so Rosie probably had the flu or something to start with."

"That's good." Tate knew Cooper meant well; it wasn't the kid's fault that Tate wanted to jump out of his own skin rather than say more than a few words. "Thanks for your help earlier, looking out for the baby. Finn said you did a lot."

Cooper shrugged, pulling the SUV onto the main street. "It really wasn't —"

He trailed off as Tate kicked open the door as the SUV slowed outside Rosie's, and Tate leapt out. Cooper called after him, "I'll just park the car."

Tate barely heard him. He took the stairs two at a time, knocking on the door and waiting for an answer even though he wanted to shoulder right through the brand new solid metal. His boots disturbed the welcome mat outside the door, though, and a small white envelope appeared. Tate picked it up, his heart in his throat. It smelled like Sarah Jane.

The envelope contained the house keys they'd left with her, and nothing else. No note. Tate fumbled the damn things as he tried to unlock the door, growling in frustration, and finally managed to get into the apartment. It was dark and still. Silent.

Empty.

He couldn't breathe. All the air disappeared from the room and for a moment, the world tilted around him and Tate really thought he might faint. She wasn't there. Sarah Jane wasn't there.

Tate searched the apartment anyway, hoping against hope that she'd just fallen asleep and only accidentally left the keys outside. But no. She was gone, and Dakota was gone, and so were all of their things. Only the crib remained in the spare bedroom. Every other trace that Sarah Jane had been there disappeared along with her.

Cooper stood in the kitchen by the time Tate forced himself to leave the room that still carried some of Sarah Jane's scent, and the younger man raised his eyebrows when he saw Tate's expression. "Not what you were expecting?"

"No." Tate shook his head, staring around the clean apartment. A normal human wouldn't have been able to tell a gruesome murder nearly took place there only a day earlier. But he could still smell the blood under the bleach and cleaning chemical smells. Tate wondered if Rosie would be able to sleep there ever again, with the smell and the memories. He pushed aside the thought. Time to figure that out later. "Maybe she went to the hospital to check on Rosie."

"Samantha told Wyatt she dropped Sarah Jane off here and that was it. Does she have another car?"

"Maybe Rosie's," Tate said, and went to the window to check the bartender's favorite parking spot. Empty. "Which is gone."

"I'll call Zoe and check," Cooper said, and wandered into the living room as he fussed with his phone.

Tate's stomach sank as he looked around the apartment. Maybe Sarah Jane just left. Maybe she'd had enough of the craziness and danger of being around shifters. Maybe she had enough of Tate. Or maybe it had been her plan all along. Scam Rosie, scam Tate and everyone else, then steal the drug money and hightail it out of there for another town and another fool. His chest hurt just thinking about it.

He watched Cooper, trying to predict where the future would lead him as the mountain lion started to pace anxiously in the back of his head, and his pocket vibrated. Tate frowned as he pulled his cell phone out, hoping it was Sarah Jane but knowing it wouldn't be.

Instead, Killswitch's gruff voice reached him through a lot of noise and arguing. "Hey partner. Funny thing happened on the way to work today."

Tate checked the time; barely past one in the morning. Certainly not close to dawn, like Killswitch had told him. "Shit happens when you show up early."

"Yeah, about that. Things changed. I meant to tell you, but you know."

Tate knew, all right. That son of a bitch meant to catch them at the cabin as well, maybe angling for a bribe or a flashy gun-fight. The lion growled and Tate gritted his teeth to keep the animal from breaking free again. Killswitch had endangered Sarah Jane and Dakota, too. "Good to know you've got my back."

"Don't get all butt-hurt, man." Killswitch shouted at someone before returning to the phone and lowering his voice. "But we get here and all of these dudes are dead. Mauled by animals or some shit. You know anything about that?"

Tate didn't say anything, since Killswitch was good at hearing lies regardless of how well Tate told them. And Killswitch had probably already made up his mind that Tate was responsible, which made it even more dangerous to deny it. Then Killswitch knew Tate had something to hide. So instead he said nothing.

After a while, Killswitch chuckled. "Right. Don't know why I asked."

"Have a good life, Killswitch." Tate wanted to hang up and get a new number. He didn't want Killswitch knowing how to find him, even if the man specialized in finding things that didn't want to be found.

"Before you cut me off," Killswitch said, too casual for it to be a simple request or good-bye. The hair prickled on the back of Tate's neck as the corrupt cop went on. "You were right — it's definitely Smitty's work. Top notch work. We found all of it, but one of the compartments was empty. The only one that was cleaned out. You know anything about that?"

"I didn't touch the car." But Tate knew who had. He hoped Sarah Jane was smart enough to have used gloves, so they couldn't track her down by her fingerprints. "If someone took what was in there, I'm guessing they needed it and probably don't have anything you want."

"If there was anything in there to start with," Killswitch said, almost a reminder. "Since these guys clearly weren't at the top of their game, getting killed by wolves even when they had a fuckin' arsenal of weapons, maybe they forgot about that compartment."

"Maybe." Tate waited, wondering if Killswitch would ask him for a favor, or remind him of a new debt. "I hope you got the win, man."

"Oh, I did, brother." Killswitch chuckled again, and someone else shouted at him through the uneven connection. "Bet your ass I got the win."

The call ended and Tate stood there, staring at the phone, until Cooper moved behind him. Sarah Jane took the money. She took it, just like she said she had.

Cooper cleared his throat. "Zoe said no one's been by the hospital. Simon's headed that way, he'll check and see if maybe Sarah Jane is..."

"She's gone." Tate stared out the window at the dark street and the empty parking spot. "She took the money and she left."

"She'll be back," Cooper said, slapping his shoulder. "She probably just needed to get some of her stuff or something for the baby. She'll be back to check on Rosie, at least."

"Maybe." Tate didn't think so. Sarah Jane was a runner. Things got tough, she ran. She made a bad decision — she ran. Someone started to care about her... She ran.

He stood there for a long time before Cooper finally convinced him to go back to his apartment and clean up from the fight, but even then, Tate didn't sleep. He stared at the ceiling over his bed as the window grew light and the sounds of the town waking up filled his apartment. The mountain lion wanted to stay in bed all day, unable to move. Tate understood for the first time what Simon had been talking about, when he said it was physically painful to be separated from his mate. He couldn't breathe, thinking about Sarah Jane, and his heart nearly stopped when he rolled over and disturbed the pillow where she'd lain and her scent enveloped him.

Even when he mourned losing Monique, he'd been able to get out of bed and carry on. It hurt but it didn't feel like he was going to die. Losing Sarah Jane left him crippled. Crippled and alone. He kept the burner phone, in the off chance she still had the number and might call it, but when his phones started ringing, it was only Simon or Zoe or Cooper, trying to cajole him out of bed. Tate stopped answering.

I
t took
SJ almost a week to get everything taken care of. She drove back to her school and paid off the bills, finally getting her diploma and certification. She repaid a landlord and closed out the storage shed where she'd kept a few mementos she hadn't trusted in Chuck's care. It felt final, instead of the chaos of fleeing Chuck's rage in the middle of a nighttime blizzard. It still hurt when she thought of leaving Bear Creek the way she had, but SJ knew if she'd stayed, Tate would have talked her out of doing things her way or made her give the money back. And she'd earned that money, with every insult and threat and punch Chuck threw her way. She earned it driving that car up to the cabin, and Dakota earned a chunk of it for surviving. It wasn't often the universe was kind to SJ, and she wasn't going to overlook an opportunity when it came about.

She still felt rushed and a little unnerved as she drove back to Sage Hill, passing the diner where Chuck had wanted her to leave the drug-laden car, and went straight to the hospital. It was a pleasant morning, if cold as hell, and SJ didn't have Dakota quite as bundled up as usual. It almost felt like spring was arriving, like everything would be new and fresh again. She thought she saw grass trying to poke its way through some of the snow.

SJ stopped at the business office in the hospital, talking to at least half a dozen people before she found the right one, and she paid all of Rosie's hospital bills. In cash, of course. The administrator raised his eyebrows but didn't argue — apparently it wasn't
that
strange, since a lot of people in that part of the state didn't have insurance and relied on other earnings to pay for care. Then SJ made her way up to Rosie's hospital room, took one look at her godmother, and burst into grateful tears.

Rosie held her arms out and SJ collapsed against her, beside herself with gratitude. Dakota was the only one not crying, and instead babbled and shrieked when she saw Rosie again. When SJ finally composed herself, she dragged one of the chairs over to Rosie's bed and sat, letting Rosie snuggle Dakota as the cougar murmured and whispered about how much she'd missed the baby.

SJ cleared her throat and glanced at the door, a little nervous about Tate or Simon or someone else showing up. She wasn't sure how they'd take her leaving, not that it really mattered. SJ did what she had to do. "I'm sure glad to see you looking better, Rosie. I had to borrow your car for a bit, but I'm ready to drive you home."

Rosie made faces at Dakota until the baby giggled, clapping her hands. "That's what I heard, darlin'. Is everything okay? Got everything taken care of you needed to?"

"I think so." SJ covered her face, letting out a shaky breath. "I feel free, Rosie, for the first time in a really long time. I feel like I can actually start over now, like I've got nothing holding me back."

"I'm glad." Rosie tickled Dakota, then slid SJ a sideways glance. "Let's get out of here. This hospital food is killing me, and I haven't had a beer in over a week. I'm ready to get the hell home."

SJ laughed, picking up Dakota to give Rosie room, and handed her the small duffel bag someone left near the bed with clothes and toiletries. As Rosie dressed, SJ cleared her throat. "Simon had the rest of the town clean up your apartment. It looks real nice now. You can't even tell anything... happened."

"Good. I wasn't looking forward to scrubbing week-old blood off the walls. That shit turns into cement." Rosie winced as she pulled on sweatpants and grumbled about the hospital gown. "I've had to do that before and it's no fun."

"Oh." SJ didn't quite know what to say to that.

Rosie didn't wait very long before going on. "You'll stay with me for a while, won't you? I'm still not feeling a hundred percent, so it would be nice to have someone else in the house. I don't know what your plans are, darlin', but you should give Bear Creek a chance."

"I'm not sure I'm welcome," SJ said, picking up Dakota and the duffel bag as she helped Rosie to her feet and to the waiting orderly and wheelchair. "Tate was pretty insistent that I get the hell out of town."

"He didn't mean it." Rosie smiled at the orderly and even patted the young man's impressive bicep. "And how are you today, handsome?"

He chuckled and SJ rolled her eyes, glad to laugh as well as Rosie continued to mercilessly flirt with the orderly all the way to the sidewalk outside. SJ left Dakota with Rosie and got the car, thanking the orderly profusely for tolerating Rosie's shenanigans. It wasn't until they were all buckled safely into the car and SJ got them back on the road that Rosie went on. "They let us leave awful easy, SJ. Are they sending the bill? Do you hear them say whether Simon took care of everything?"

"I paid it off," SJ said, though she hesitated.

"You did
what
?" Rosie grabbed her arm and pointed back to the hospital. "Oh no. You need that money for other things. You don't need to be —"

"It's fine, Rosie." SJ tried to smile. "Really. I took some of the money that Chuck set aside. There was more than enough. I've been settling debts this last week, and I wanted to pay you back a little for all you did, trying to keep Dakota safe."

Rosie's eyes glinted as she stared at SJ. "Don't you lie to me, young lady."

"I'm not. I promise, there was more than enough." SJ concentrated on driving, still not comfortable on the winter roads even with hints of spring.

Rosie didn't say anything else until SJ parked in front of the restaurant in Bear Creek, gathering up Dakota and the duffel and everything else, then helping Rosie out of the car and across the sidewalk. The older woman took her time, though she scolded SJ for hovering, and SJ's heart sank when Rosie had to pause on the landing to catch her breath before heading up the second flight of stairs. It really hurt to see Rosie still so weak. SJ juggled her bag, trying to find the spare key she'd kept from the set she left under the welcome mat, but froze when Rosie said, "Oh, the door's open. You didn't set up a welcome home party, did you?"

SJ's heart dropped and she almost tackled Rosie. "Don't —"

Anyone could have been waiting inside. More of Chuck's guys, looking for the money.

But Rosie hobbled into the apartment and laughed. "Tathan!"

And SJ's heart sank a little more, since Tate stood in the kitchen. A pile of grocery bags covered the kitchen table, and the refrigerator door stood open as he put them away. Tate looked awful. Just awful. Like he'd been deathly ill for months, all haggard and wan.

Rosie immediately grabbed his face in her hands. "Are you pining away for me, young man? You should have visited me in the hospital, you asshole, and don't you think I didn't notice!"

Tate tried to smile, a ghastly sight, and leaned to hug her gingerly. "I wasn't feeling well, Rosie, and I didn't want to make you sick."

Rosie glanced between them, then took Dakota and limped over to the couch. "Well. We'll have a chat about that later, Tathan. I'm going to take this delightful young lady and we're going to take a nap."

"His name is Thaddeus," SJ said, not thinking, and Rosie froze in mid-step. When she turned, the delight on her face almost made the last week worth it.

"Thaddeus?" Rosie said, practically beaming. "That's better than I could have ever imagined."

"You really didn't need to tell her," Tate said, but there wasn't any anger in it. Just a hint of resignation.

SJ started to worry. He looked like a shadow of himself. A ghost with Tate's voice. As Rosie chuckled and sang a song about Thaddeus someone to Dakota, SJ couldn't stand the silence and instead put down all her bags to help put away the groceries, since Tate hadn't moved and the fridge remained open. She almost couldn't look at him. "How did you know we were coming back?"

"A friend at the hospital," Tate said. "One of the wolves works there as an orderly. He called me when you picked Rosie up, so I thought I'd get food since there wasn't anything in here."

"Thank you," SJ said. "That was really nice."

"Have you eaten?"

SJ glanced at him, heat rising in her cheeks for no reason she could think of, other than the look in his eyes when he watched her. "No, but I'll just make something here."

"Right." Tate nodded, then reached for his jacket and keys. "I'll leave you to —"

"You can stay." SJ blurted it out. "If you want. I'll just make spaghetti or something, but you're welcome to stay."

"Thanks." Tate put the jacket back down. He frowned at the groceries for a long moment, then seemed to make up his mind. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. "I'll cook. You relax and catch up with Rosie. We can talk when you're ready."

But SJ glanced over and saw both Rosie and Dakota fast asleep on the couch, trading snores, and instead eased to sit at the kitchen table so she could watch him chop vegetables. She couldn't take the silence for very long. "I'm sorry I just took off. I should have left a note or something."

"You'd been through a lot," he said, filling a pot with water to boil. "It made sense to go somewhere you felt safe."

"That doesn't make it right." SJ sighed and covered her face. She wasn't entirely ready to talk to Tate. She didn't really understand how she felt. And yet there was such a strong pull to him that all she wanted to do was go lean against him and press her face against his shoulder. But she held on to the table instead. "And I — I took the money. From the car. I took it all."

"Yeah, I figured as much when the compartment was empty." Tate didn't turn from the stove, and SJ couldn't tell if there was judgment behind the statement. It didn't sound like it. There wasn't a hint of the caustic condemnation she'd almost expected. But Tate just shrugged. "The guys checked the compartments during the raid and said they assumed that one wasn't loaded. No one's looking for the money, as far as I know."

SJ exhaled some of the anxiety that had gripped her every minute since she unloaded the cash and hit it in a drainage ditch on her way to the cabin. "Well, that's good."

Tate threw onions and garlic into a sauce pan, and the sharp scent tickled her nose as she watched. She wanted to help, but he took up a lot of room at the stove. Tate glanced back at her, though, and gestured at one of the bags still on the table. "Can you pass the tomatoes and basil?"

She did, trying not to shiver as her fingers brushed his and it felt like lightning arced between them. When he didn't speak, SJ cleared her throat. "I didn't keep all of it. The money, I mean. I paid off some debts and Rosie's hospital bills, and I put away a little for Dakota's future, but the rest of it I gave to a couple of charities. A women's shelter and a rehab clinic. I wanted it to do some good."

"That's good." Some of the tension eased in Tate's shoulders. "I thought you were gone for good, to be honest, when the money wasn't there."

"I thought you wanted me gone," she said. She didn't look at him, focusing instead on a lonely onion still on the table. "I didn't think anyone would mind."

"Sarah Jane," he said, and turned. He leaned against the counter next to the stove, waiting until she looked up at him to go on. "I didn't mean that. I was an idiot and an asshole, and I'm sorry. I very much want you to stay in Bear Creek."

SJ felt a little hope take root in her heart.

Tate started to smile, just a little, and went back to the sauce before it burned.