“You’re not going anywhere.” If only it was that easy. I reach into my back pocket, pulling out my phone. I’m surprised he hasn't called before now. “Speaker,” Bear orders when I pull it out.
“Roberts?” I say, answering the call.
“You’re not at your apartment. You were supposed to be there hours ago. Where are you, Honey?”
“Watch your tone when you’re speaking to her,” Bear growls before taking the phone out of my hand.
“I take it this is Bear Chan I’m speaking with.”
“She’s not leaving. If you want to see her, you’ll come here,” he tells him before ending the call.
“Bear.” He shrugs, not caring. I don’t miss the small wince because of his shoulder. “Can I get you anything before he shows up here?”
“Got what I need.” He gives my ass a squeeze. I lay my head down on his shoulder.
“Promise nothing is going to happen to you,” I say when his doorbell goes off.
“No one is taking me from my girl,” he vows as we get up from the sofa. I take his hand as we head toward the door together, letting Agent Roberts in.
“Roberts.” He holds his hand out to Bear. Bear takes it.
“She’s not leaving.”
“I heard you the first time.” Roberts steps inside glancing around.
“This way.” I motion with one arm as I elbow Bear with my other. “Coffee?” I ask when we enter the kitchen.
“No thanks. It’s been a long day, and it’s far from over,” Roberts says. His eyes remain on Bear.
“It looks like you won’t need to testify anymore.”
“What! Really?”
“Lawrence is dead. He was shot in his home this afternoon. Not even an hour after he made bail.” My eyes flick to Bear. I have to remind myself that we’re in Vegas. There is no way it could have been him. He’d been busy killing someone else.
I open and close my mouth, not sure how to respond. “That’s good, right?” I ask. Bear walks over, putting his arm around me and pulling me into his big body.
“For you, yes. Word must have gotten out that Lawrence was looking to make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“A plea deal. Where he would spill some secrets.” Roberts runs a hand through his short hair. “I wanted to give you the news in person. I don’t think you’ll be needing me anymore.”
“Thank you.” I give him a warm smile.
“It looks like you got yourself some new protection anyways.” He eyes Bear. “That said, your landlord showed up dead in his apartment with a bullet in his head. I found out on my way over here. They think he’s been dead since this morning, but that’s not my jurisdiction. I thought I’d let you know.”
“Thanks for letting us know. It’s a rough part of town, if you ask me. Honey won’t be going back there.”
“Right,” Roberts says. “It’s late. I’m sure I might have a few things to clear out, but if not it’s been nice knowing you, Honey.” He shakes his head. “I mean Hannah .”
“Yeah, nice,” I say dryly.
“I’ll see myself out.” A few moments later, I hear the front door close.
“Bear?” I turn in his arms, looking up at him and wondering just how far he would go for me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bear
There’s a question in her eyes that I don’t want to answer. “Let’s go to bed. Paige is sleeping, and my body needs a little tender loving care.” I bend down to sweep her back into my arms, but she scoots out of my grasp quick. I try to reach for her, but the wound in my shoulder screams at me to stay still.
“Bear, maybe we should talk.”
Those have to be the four most hated words in the English language. “I’m not good with words, Honey. I’m an action guy. A physical one.” I tap my chest.
She folds her arms across her chest and stares. Hard. I know she wants answers, and I’m not trying to protect her from the truth by keeping stuff to myself. Rather, I don’t want her to hate me or turn away in disgust if she knew my shady past, but from the look on her face, if I don’t start talking, she might walk.
I grab the back of my neck and squeeze the words out. “Most fighters don’t come from middle class suburbs. They fight because it’s the only way out of a bad situation. Fists are sometimes the only language that some men know, so if you want to stay alive, a display of force is often the way to win safe passage. Others recognize your strength and flock to your side, and little by little your own existence becomes a little easier, a little less dangerous. The thing is that fighting can be addictive in the way that drugs or booze are. Some guys like the pain and others…” I check her expression. She doesn’t appear like she’s about to walk out the door.