Laid Bear by Eve Vaughn (e books for reading .TXT) 📕

them back on. Logan ran back into the woods with the clothing in his mouth. He returned shortly in his other form in a pair of jeans and T-shirt. He joined his cousins at Zora’s father’s vehicle where they spoke. Zora couldn’t make out what they were saying. She looked through the rear view mirror to see as they moved to the back of her father’s car.

Heath opened the driver’s side door, extracted the key from inside and returned to the trunk. When they popped the trunk open, Zora could no longer make out what they were doing. But she didn’t have a long wait. She saw Gavin move first with a bloody bundle wrapped in a sheet. Unable to remain seated, Zora got out of the car as Gavin rushed toward her.

“Open the back door,” he instructed.

Zora did as she was told and stepped back, allowing him to lay the bundle across the backseat.

“Get in the car, Zora. We have to hurry.”

Without looking in the back, she knew who it was. She didn’t want to turn around, she couldn’t. She sat rigidly in her seat, her head forward. They were nearly home before she asked what took her several moments to build up to. “Is she dead?”

Gavin’s mouth tightened and his hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles went white. “No. But if I don’t tend to her injuries soon, we may have a problem.”

“Why not just take her to the hospital?”

“Look at us.” He took one hand off the wheel to gesture to their blood-splattered clothing. “There’ll be questions and I’m not putting you through that. Besides, the medicine they will give her at the hospital won’t be able to fix all that’s wrong with her, at least not good as new.”

Knowing how extensive her injuries had been after the car accident and how well Gavin had healed her, she knew he’d be able to help her mother. She couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had at least tried to stop her father. At the very least, once her mother was healed, she could demand answers and perhaps find some closure to her painful past.

Zora kept herself busy for the next four days. Logan, Gavin and Heath had collectively decided she needed to stay home from work so she threw herself into her redecorating project, anything to keep her mind off what happened and who now resided in one of the guest bedrooms. She still refused to look in on her mother, not asking once how she was doing.

She held up one swatch and then another, holding them against the light to compare. Zora sensed the moment she was no longer alone in the room.

“Hey, Gavin. I thought you were going into the office this morning.” The connection between her and her men was so strong she could sense each one separately. So she knew Logan and Heath were with him.

They were all supposed to be at work. She knew what they wanted. They had, in fact, brought the subject up quite a bit within the last few days. She refused to let them stonewall her. She stood up, pasting a smile on her face, and turned to face them. “I’m glad you’re all here. I think I’ve narrowed down which colors I’d like to have the study painted. I think it would look nice in cranberry or forest green. What do you guys think?” She held up the swatches.

Gavin stepped forward. “Zora, can we talk for a minute?

Logan, Heath and I have been talking and we think—”

“You know what? These might be too bold. Maybe we should go for a more cheerful color. Royal blue? That’s soothing.” She went on as if he hadn’t spoken.

Heath crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Zora, would you stop a minute and listen to us, please?”

She turned her back to him and looked at the wall with as much concentration as the situation would allow. “Or maybe I can nix the paint altogether and look at wallpaper?”

“Zora!” Logan practically roared as he strode over and pulled her around to face him. “We don’t give a shit about what goddamn color you paint the study. But we love you and you need to listen to this.”

She pulled herself out of his grasp. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“You need to hear this, Zora,” Gavin rebutted. “You have the right to feel