The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 13-1

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

From the moment Samara climbed into Bear’s truck she knew this was a mistake. By the time they reached the restaurant and bar, she had buried her misgivings and forced herself to relax. They had chatted about their high school days, her brothers, the weather, and a dozen other topics to pass time during the drive into town.

She smiled as he helped her out of the truck. As they entered the bar, Bear called out to a few guys as they weaved their way around the tables to their seats. Samara glanced around the dim interior.

“Thank you,” she murmured when he pulled a chair out for her.

She removed her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair while Bear ordered a couple of beers and some chips and salsa. Between the band playing, the c***k of pool balls, and the noise of everyone talking, it made it difficult to hear. She leaned forward and tried to listen as Bear talked about the newest temporary ranch hands Mason had hired.

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” Bear said in a loud voice just as the music died.

“Nice, Bear,” someone yelled.

“Shut up, Carl,” Bear replied with a good-natured grin.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice sneered, “if it isn’t the runaway. Where’s your scarred bodyguard?”

Samara covered Bear’s hand when he started to rise to his feet. Casper wasn’t a huge town, and Cattlemen’s was a popular hangout for the locals. Turning in her chair, she looked up at her brother with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you miss him? I’m sure I can arrange another lovely man-to-dipshit chat with him if you’d like,” she sweetly retorted.

“You’re a real b***h sometimes. Does Bear know that?” Jerry responded.

Bear pulled his hand away and rose to his feet. “You shouldn’t talk to your sister that way,” he angrily replied.

Jerry smirked. “What are you going to do about it, Teddy Bear?” he inquired.

Samara rose from her chair and angrily turned toward her brother. She wasn’t going to let him pull Bear into a fight. The mocking gleam in his eyes told her he was itching for a brawl.

“Back off, Jerry. Don’t forget that I won’t be there to bail your a*s out of jail,” she warned.

“I’ll back off when you give me the money you promised,” he goaded.

She waved her hand. “That deal died when you stole my truck,” she snapped.

Jerry’s hand shot out, and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She winced at the bruising grip. Behind her, Bear muttered a curse and came forward to help her.

Jerry shoved her, and she gave a cry of surprise as her heel caught the edge of her chair, making her fall back against the table. Jerry swung a punch at Bear, who ducked and caught him around the waist.

Samara pushed herself back to her feet in time to watch Bear toss Jerry onto a nearby pool table. Jerry lifted his legs and kicked out at Bear, sending him backwards into her. The force of Bear’s momentum sent them against one of the load-bearing wall beams. Her head snapped back, hitting a sharp corner.

Shock ricocheted through her before the pain hit. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes from the impact. Lifting her hand to the back of her head, she winced when she felt blood.

“Samara…,” Bear said, twisting around and catching her as she slid down the post.

Her lips parted to let him know that she was alright, but no sound emerged. She tried to blink away the darkness, and turned her head, looking at her fingers through a growing haze. Dark red blood coated her fingertips.

Adalard….

She didn’t know why his name slipped through her dazed mind, but it did. Bear’s arms wound around her before a different pair lifted her limp body and warmth surrounded her. Her head rolled sideways as her eyes closed.

“You… came,” she whispered.

“Always,” Adalard vowed.