Chapter Fifteen
Zoe stripped off her clothing when they got to the motel. She held her hand out to Andre. "Care to join me for a shower?"
It would be a lie to say he wasn't tempted. She had a gorgeous body. Her breasts stood high and round, her stomach a flat six-pack. He ached to have the forgetful bliss overrun him and soothe his breaking heart. But the guilt from just looking at her made his cheeks grow warm and he turned away. Mary had told him to go away. Did that make this right?
Mary will never find out, he told himself, straightening his shoulders. I can't base my actions on what she would want me to do. What do I want?
Mary. He wanted Mary. Zoe, for all her gorgeousness, was a poor substitute for Mary's soft body in his arms and the way she looked at him, eyes so full of love. He didn't want Zoe. He wanted oblivion, sure, for this ache to go away. Zoe couldn't give him that.
"You should leave," he grunted. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I don't want you here. I'd rather be alone."
He listened to the cloth slither against her skin as she redressed, not turning until the zip of her jeans told him she was fully clothed. Her expression was calm. Maybe a little disappointed. She seemed to take it in stride, though. There was a sympathetic look about her eyes and she sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her.
"I don't want—"
"We can still talk. I mean, with a specimen like you, I was hoping for something a little more. But if that's not what you want, then just talk. That is why you came back, isn't it?"
Andre ran a hand through his long light brown hair. It tangled around his fingers; he hadn't brushed it in a couple days, merely putting it up into the bun he usually wore it in. Mary had loved his long hair, always running her long, slender fingers through it after he washed it. She once said she wished her own hair felt like his. She thought hers was too thick and coarse. He loved her hair. To him, it was soft and silky.
"Talk about what?" He gingerly sat beside her.
Zoe cocked her head to one side. "It's been a long time since you've seen another Bear. I could tell when you didn't recognize me for what I am. So, how long?"
Andre shrugged, looking at the floor. "Three years. My wife and daughter were both Bears. They died three years ago. Car accident."
It was the lie he told everybody because it was easier to say they had died in an accident than that they were cruelly murdered and he had seen it happen. The only person he had ever told the truth to was Mary. He hadn't meant to. There was just something about her that he trusted with the darkest part of him. Almost the darkest. She thinks I killed the hunters that killed Isadore and Eve. I never told her it was her father and brothers.
"And you've been alone ever since."
Andre had almost forgotten about Zoe, even with her warmth right beside him. He nodded glumly. "It hit me hard."
"And the scar? I've never seen a Bear with one so pronounced."
Andre touched it. "I deliberately made it scar rather than heal. The accident was my fault and I wanted to remember that every time I looked in the mirror."
Zoe frowned. "There are many other Bears, you know. If you don't have an association, there are many who are looking for strong men to help keep bloodlines flowing. We are a dying breed."
She stood and moved to the window, glaring out of it. "Not just Bears. All Shifters. I haven't heard of a Tiger or Lion being seen for years. And as for us… well. I help other Bears find their way to our own kind as much as I can. Somehow we always manage to find one another. But less and less of our children are born with Bears."
"There is a time and season for everything. Perhaps it's just as well that we go extinct of our own accord before humans discover us and put us in zoos or laboratory cages." Andre let out a heavy sigh. "But perhaps we are not dying out. Perhaps we are just evolving."
Zoe turned back to him. "That's a strangely optimistic view for someone that seems so weighted by sorrows."
"It's something Mary would say," he whispered.
"Mary. Was she your wife?"
Andre shook his head. "She is… was… the woman I had lived with for the past four months. She's a Wolf."
"A Wolf?" Zoe's brows climbed high on her forehead. "You mean a werewolf?"
"You think that's strange?"
"Well, yes. Werewolves generally stick to themselves, don't they?"
Andre nodded, his fists clenching as he remembered how tightly Mary's life was controlled by her father.
"Did something happen to her?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Me," Andre whispered. "I hurt her. I hurt her terribly and I don't see how she can ever forgive me."
Zoe's calm gaze prompted him to continue, so he did. He told her about how he had come across Mary in the dead of winter, far away from her community. He told Zoe how he suspected Mary had been running from them but couldn't take the chance, so he kept her at his cabin to make sure that she wouldn't tell her father he was there. He had been shocked when she scrubbed the cabin from top to bottom, washed all his clothes and made three meals a day that she insisted he eat.
"She cared about me, even though she didn't know me. I thought she was trying to earn my trust so she could make her escape, but she never tried to leave." Andre stared at the dark green and brown striped pattern on the wall. "I especially loved it at night when she read. She was always so immersed in the words that I could have tap-danced naked in front of her and she wouldn't have noticed."
The only thing that brought her from her reading was when she didn't know a word. She asked him, shyly at first, as though expecting to be scolded, but with more confidence as the days went on.
"And even though I only knew her for four months, I love her. I suppose it should have surprised me more than it did, but I've always fallen fast and hard. I wouldn't admit that what I felt for her was love, not even to myself until I let her go and she was going to leave me forever."
Andre drew in a shuddering breath and told Zoe about how he had run after her to the bus station, and how they had returned to the farm to find the livestock slaughtered. His voice grew quieter as he told her about his rage, his accusations, and everything that followed.
Zoe was silent for a long time after he was done. Eventually, she stood up. "And you think she won't forgive you?"
"Even if she does, I'm too dangerous for her to be near. What if… what if it had been her, and not her sister that I attacked? I was so blinded by rage."
Zoe inclined her head slightly. "Still, she deserves to at least have the chance to hear you apologize. I will talk with my contacts. One of them should be able to get a phone number or something."
Andre's heart lifted. "Really? You would do that for me?"
"Yes."
"But why? You don't even know me."
Zoe smirked. "You're one of us. And it's my job to help lost Bears. Besides, if we can find some way to reach the werewolves and bring them into an alliance with us, it can only help our cause."
"Paul Locke will never ally himself with Bears."
Zoe was at the door by that time. "Not even for his daughter, you think? Sometimes a family's love will make a person do unexpected things."
She was gone before Andre could argue the point further. He sat still, brow furrowed. Not even for his daughter. He hadn't gone into detail about what he knew about that werewolf community. And suddenly a rush of anxiety came over him. He had been so worried about what Mary thought of him that he hadn't really stopped to consider what Paul Locke would do to his daughter if he knew she had been involved with a Bear. If he did know…
Andre stood and began pacing. Maybe he should go back, just to make sure Mary had gotten away again. But if she hadn't, then wouldn't him returning be suspicious, and make her situation even worse?
I'll wait for now, he decided. I'll wait and see if Zoe finds a way that I can contact her. If that doesn't work, I'll go back.
But not for revenge. For Mary.
***
Each time the hammer drove a nail further into the wood, Mary felt like it was nailing her to the floor.
Everything was the same in her old room, but somehow it all seemed alien. The single bed was still in the middle of her room, hand-quilted blankets tucked in tight under the mattress. Her pine dresser sat right beside it with her porcelain doll on top. The wardrobe with Mary's four identical dresses, hand-me-downs from her mother's maternity closet, sat in the corner right next to her hope chest full of baby clothes and the wedding veil that she would never use.
She had been so proud when her father had given her this room for her own. One whole wall was made of windows. And right in the middle was a door that led onto the balcony. But now it was nailed shut from the outside and inside both. There would be no escape through it.
"Don't look like that," Peter said as he put the last nail in. "Father only let you out of the cellar because I promised you wouldn't run away again. And you won't now, will you? I can see it in your eyes that you want to."
He stepped back to admire his work.
"And how did you justify this to Father?" She gestured at the nailed door.
"I told him that you're afraid the Bear will come back for you."
Mary winced. She didn't ask what Peter had told their father about her time with Andre, and neither of them had offered any explanation. But perhaps it was best that she didn't know. "I won't try to run away," she assured him. "There's nothing out there for me anymore."
Peter studied her for a moment and then nodded. "I'll be watching nonetheless, Mary."
"To make sure I don't leave this hell."
"To make sure you don't do anything rash. And that you are being treated properly. If you feel overwhelmed, if you feel like you're being treated unfairly, just come to me and Amy. I'll take care of you."
Mary forced herself to smile and thank him. He smiled back and slipped from the room. After closing the door to ensure she had some privacy, Mary moved to the windows and gazed at the familiar sight of the forest. She began planning on how she would escape.