Gray Back Ghost Bear(13)

Worry snaked through her when she saw the sad but determined look in his eyes as he scooped trinkets back into an upended wooden crate. Down the side of his neck, he looked like he’d been mauled. It was covered in caked, dried blood, and the inside of his bicep had also been laid open.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, stumbling forward. “What’s happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly. Jason pulled the crate to his hip and sauntered off toward one of the middle trailers where piles of belongings had been tossed.

“Was he robbed?”

Creed and Matt came to stand on either side of her.

“In some ways he was,” Creed murmured, “but it happened years ago.”

Years ago? Georgia frowned and arched her neck back to look at the dark-headed man. “Is this all his stuff?”

Creed nodded once, and Matt began picking large shards of broken dishes off the lawn. Jason had disappeared inside, and suddenly the stress of having her Jeep stolen came secondary to the heaviness that blanketed her heart. She was having a crap day, but it was clear as water Jason was having a worse one.

Easton had said Jason needed her protection. She hadn’t any clue what that meant, but she was willing to stick around long enough to figure it out. Not much choice for it anyway since she didn’t have a ride.

Georgia called Damon Daye and rescheduled their meeting, then gathered a comforter and pillow into her arms. She padded up the creaking porch stairs, opened the screen door, and let herself into his home.

The trailer was trashed, but that wasn’t what locked her legs up. Jason was squatting in the middle of his living room floor with his hands linked behind his head, staring at an empty, broken picture frame on the ground.

He looked…lost.

She dropped the wad of bedding onto the leather couch that sat at an odd angle across the living area, then stood beside him. She rubbed his back gently, brushing her fingertips over the hard planes of tight muscles. A photo had been torn in half, and the only piece that remained was one of Jason with a glass mug of beer in his hand and a beaming grin on his face. Someone’s arm was wrapped around his waist, but that person had been ripped out of the picture and stolen away.

“Who was she?”

Jason leaned against her leg and sighed. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he said, “Her name was Tessa, and she was my mate.”

“She died?”

Jason looked up at her and nodded, his eyes hollow.

“Oh, Jason, I’m so sorry.” She shook her head to ward away the tears that were rimming her eyes but it was no use. One slipped down her cheek, anyway.

Jason stood and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. “No tears for her. She doesn’t deserve them.”

Georgia gasped as realization slammed into her. “Does Tessa have red hair?”

Jason’s eyes went wide, and he angled his face suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I saw a…something. The day I met you, I was driving away from here and something scared me.”

“A woman?”

She nodded. “She told me to stay away from you. She was in the road, and I thought I hit her, but when I turned around, she was sitting right next to me.”

Georgia’s hands began shaking. She’d never experienced anything like that, and it had frightened her down to her bones.

“Shh,” Jason said, pulling her against his chest. He wrapped her up in a big, strong hug that numbed her fear little by little. More of that werebear magic, clearly. “Tessa won’t hurt you. She can’t. She’s just…stuck.”

“Then why do you need protection? Easton said you needed me.”

Jason eased away from her with a growl. “Easton said too much about too much.”

He picked up an upended table and set it upright, his back to her.

“Okay, well obviously I’m in this now, whatever this is, so you could at least tell me what’s going on because I just walked into something I don’t understand at all. And you ignoring me every time I ask a question you don’t like isn’t going to fly.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” Jason turned on her, eyes transitioning from dark brown to stormy gray. “I wanted to tell you that, but I didn’t know your number or how to find you.”

Georgia drew up like she’d been slapped. His words stung like a harsh hand against cold skin. Gritting her teeth, she spun for the door. “You could’ve just let me keep that one, butthole.”

“Butthole?”

She got the door open by inches, but Jason was there with that startling speed to slam it back.

“Yeah, you’re being a butthole, pardon my barn talk.”