Bear My Baby (Shifter Squad Six 1) (10 page)

With obvious reluctance, he pulled himself away from Cassie and she watched him retreat a couple of steps toward the door. Before leaving, though, he went to Monroe’s side and picked him up for a moment, hugging him carefully. In his sweet way, Monroe clasped his hands around his neck and clung to him in a way that made Cassie’s stomach churn with guilt. Adelaide tossed a questioning, slightly worried look between Connor and then Cassie, but Cassie motioned for her to relax with a wave of her hand.

What if I could really give Monroe a father?

That treacherous thought ran in her ears again, picking at her viciously.

“Be a good boy for your mama,” Connor told Monroe, and the little dark-haired boy nodded eagerly.

Connor stood up and walked to the front door, giving Adelaide a nod of acknowledgement as he passed her. He grabbed the notebook and pen Cassie kept by the front door and scribbled something inside, before opening the door and disappearing behind it. When the door slammed shut, Cassie felt numb. Like the life had been drained out of her.

“Jesus, Ellie! What happened?! Who was that guy?” Adelaide asked, dumbfounded.

“He was… no one,” Cassie lied, walking over to Monroe and sitting down on the carpet next to him.

She was afraid that panic-like sobbing would hit her again if she thought about Connor too much and everything that had happened since that fateful night. But running her hand through Monroe’s slightly curly hair, she felt a tiny bit better. At least she knew now that he was real. That he wasn’t all a figment of her imagination. And that inside of him, behind that cocky bravado and bad boy charm, was a sensitive, caring man who wanted to do right by her son.

Whether she could allow that to happen was a whole other topic in itself.

“Nuh-uh. He is definitely not no one. Did you know him from somewhere? Have you been crying? I knew I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight, girl. God, I’m so dumb,” Adelaide sighed dramatically, sitting down on the carpet as well.

She put her expensive purse down next to her. Adelaide handed one of the lattes she had brought with her over to Cassie. It was only when her fingers coiled around the paper cup that Cassie realized Adelaide had been holding anything at all. There went the theory that she was usually good at noticing things. Apparently Connor could make her blind, deaf, and a little bit dumb.

“Honestly, it’s nothing you should worry about, Addy. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. Though maybe we could pick better bars next time,” Cassie said, trying to crack a joke.

“Okay, fine. You win. No more party nights. This month,” Adelaide promised, making a show of crossing her fingers before giggling.

Going to another party was the last thing on Cassie’s mind now.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Connor

Sweat poured into his eyes and down his face and neck. Every blow hurt more than the previous one. He couldn’t get enough. His taped hands were burning, the knuckles screaming for rest, but as long as his sparring partner was ducking and jabbing, Connor kept going for him.

He threw a feint with his left and then tried for a punch with the right, but Grim dodged out of it, spinning on his heel. Growling under his breath, Connor went again, this time feinting with his right and using it as a set up to go for Grim’s abdomen, pounding into it viciously after he got the first hit. Grim backed into the ropes, the harsh fluorescent lamp throwing glints off his sweaty skin.

Connor could feel every punch as it impacted with his friend’s naked flesh. Two powerfully built, vicious operatives, going at each other full force was enough of a sight to keep most of the gym quiet, watching them duke it out. The strength of his fists sent the man wheezing, but Grim wouldn’t let him have the upper hand for too long.

As sharply as he’d given it up, Grim took control again, pushing Connor off of him just far enough to jump forward and then slam a heel in his cheek, sending Connor flying across the mat and into the ropes. His mouth guard flew out and Connor practically roared, scrambling to his feet and launching at Grim.

With a well-timed side-step and a backhanded hit, Grim took Connor down at the same time as Connor managed to hook his leg behind Grim’s and bring the big tree of a man down on his back with a heavy
oomph
as well. Connor was halfway up and ready to dive in again as Grim burst out laughing, cutting the tension.

“Sheesh, lieutenant. What’s eating you up today? I haven’t gotten you down once, let alone twice since Korea,” he commented, referring back to a particularly nasty case of some jungle virus Connor had been going through during one of their missions.

True to form, he had completely ignored and tried to go on with his regular schedule like nothing had happened. His squad had a field day, of course.

Connor shook his head, his body still riled up, ready to go. The first fucker who got in his face would land with a broken nose, that much he knew. He picked up his mouth guard from the mat, noting absently that there was blood on it and that his mouth tasted of copper too. Wiping the back of his hand over his lips, it came back sweaty and bloody, the trickle of dark maroon blood breaking on his skin.

“Nothing, man. Must not be feeling it today,” he grumped, ducking out through the ropes and planting his feet on the cold gym floor.

Grim was right behind him, grabbing a towel and two bottles of water on his way. He tossed one to Connor and he caught it, tipping it in Grim’s direction appreciatively. They headed back to their bags and Connor sat down with a heavy thud, glowering at anything and everything that had the misfortune of being in his line of sight as he took a drink.

It wasn’t a big gym. It was one of those gritty little holes-in-the-wall where prospects came to train for their cage fights and where men like Grim and Connor went to not stand out. Here, they were men amongst peers. Maybe no one in the room was quite as dangerous as either of them, or God forbid both of them together, but they wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb like they would have at the local YMCA.

Grim was drying his face and short dirty blond hair with the towel, grinning like a maniac. He was the best recon guy Connor had ever met and he knew that Grim needed a little bit of crazy, a little bit of danger in every day to really feel like he was alive. Connor could understand that. A good beating could be a decent enough substitute for a gun fight on slow days like this.

Not that it was
slow
for Connor. He’d left Cassie’s house in the morning and after hours and hours of aimless wandering, had finally called up his crew to see if anyone was up for a quick training session. Fortunately enough, Grim had managed to slide out from underneath one or two of the hot blondes he and Grant took home the night before and provided some needed company.

“Seriously, man. What’s up? Something happen at the Pillar yesterday?” Grim asked, giving Connor a quizzical look.

Pillar? Oh yeah, the bar…

He hadn’t even remembered the name of the joint. Not that it mannered any. The corners of his mouth drooped lower as he slung the tape off his knuckles in a quick rolling motion, bunching it up into a ball. He stretched his fingers for a moment, feeling the blood rushing back into them. Even through the tape he could see the beginnings of a bruise on a few of the knuckles, a clear sign of sloppy fighting. It worked to only aggravate him further.

“You could say that,” he said non-committally. When Grim gave him a look that was clearly calling him out on his bullshit, Connor growled grouchily, taking his towel from his bag and draping it over his shoulders. “I fucked up. Not last night. Before. And it came back to haunt me.”

“Yeah?” Grim asked, leaning back against the cool stone wall and giving Connor a long look. “You gonna make good on it?”

“Not sure if I can,” he answered truthfully.

“Bullshit, man,” Grim said, stretching his arms over his head and working a kink out of his shoulder. “You can always fix shit you fucked up. Unless whoever you did dirty by is dead. Life’s all about second chances, am I right?”

He wasn’t expecting a reply and Connor didn’t give one, undoing the end on the red tape around his other hand and peeling it off layer by layer.

How do you patch up neglecting your kid and the woman who might be your mate?
Connor questioned himself, keeping that thought private.

Yes, he used “might.” The last time he’d been sure, it had come to bite him in the ass and it had torn a big old chunk out of him that he was still busy trying to fill with something else. The one thing he knew was that there were no certainties in life, and as much as he thought he was infallible, life kept proving him wrong time and time again. Like with Cassie. And Monroe. He jerked at the thought of them alone all that time.

She must have been fucking terrified,
he thought glumly, struggling to see the silver lining of the whole situation.

“She isn’t dead,” he said, falling back against the wall as well, taking a deep breath.

He hated feeling that way. Almost helpless. Every problem he had ever encountered could be solved with varying amounts of violence, but this one? This one was way out of his comfort range. Usually, he could rally and get himself to cross whatever hurdle that needed to be crossed and pump up his men to do the same. It was never him that needed the pep talk and now there he was, getting lessons in living from one of his crew.

No mountain too high, no valley too deep, all that shit. But this time, he was stumped.

Cassie obviously didn’t want him butting into her life or Monroe’s, but he couldn’t leave. No way in hell would he leave his kid and his woman alone now, not before he knew they would be okay. If she didn’t want him to be a part of him growing up, he could live with that, maybe. As long as she kept him in the loop and promised to let the boy meet him if he wanted to. Not that he’d blame Monroe for never wanting to once he grew up.

He was an asshat and he didn’t need any third party confirming that for him. Connor was well aware of the kind of man he was. Certainly not the kind of man a woman would want by her side, helping her raise their children. Half his life was spent trying to kill the other guy before he got killed himself, so that didn’t exactly make for stellar family security. Not to mention the fact that he’d fucked her while he barely knew her name, let alone anything else about her but the fact that she had to be protected.

“Oh a woman, huh? Yeah, that shit’s rough. I can never get it right with the dames. Seem to always fuck up,” Grim said, chuckling. “But, you know, they want to be treated right, that’s all. If you think you didn’t respect her enough or you need to patch something up, I think you gotta go for it, lieutenant. Trying to beat the shit out of me here won’t make that happen, but talking to her might.”

Grim gave Connor a long look, arching one of his thick brows. Grim was the guy who always cracked a joke, the one always chuckling about something or another. It wasn’t like him to get somber like that, serious. Connor must have been giving off distress signals like hell if his crew was noticing so easily.

“I’m not sure if she wants me to,” he said blankly, slapping his hands against his thighs and feeling them whine with tiny cramps in response.

“Ain’t gonna find out unless you go and ask her, lieutenant.”

“Look at you. A regular old advice columnist. Didn’t know you had it in you, Grim,” Connor said, smirking.

“Gotta pick up that skill with all the bitching and moaning you girls do,” Grim said with a crooked grin.

Connor chuckled, shaking his head. Sweat dripped down his neck and back.

I gotta make this work,
he thought, letting that particular fact roll over him.

He would never forgive himself if he didn’t try. Grim was right about that. He couldn’t know how things would work out if he didn’t give it all he got. If he couldn’t convince Cassie that he wasn’t the creep he’d so carefully built himself up as, maybe there was a hope for him at least being a part of Monroe’s life. However small of a chance that was.

A few generations ago, the reasonable thing for an Alpha to do would have been to barge in and take the child if the mother didn’t see reason. But that was a darker time, a less civilized one. Even bears had to behave. Sometimes. Although Connor certainly wasn’t above kicking a few asses and forgetting about the questions in the name of the safety and wellbeing of his woman and his cub, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t take another step if it would hurt Cassie.

She deserved better.

But she was going to have to make do with him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cassie

Cassie walked right past the notebook with Connor’s name and number in it, ignoring it with all her might as she had since he stepped out through that door. It was still open on the page where he had scribbled his contacts—big, looping letters and numbers that took up most of the space available. He was that kind of guy, grandiose in everything.

The doorbell buzzed again as she was pulling on the knob and a delivery guy stared back at her expectantly, his dirty hair flattened under his cap. With boredom raging in his eyes, he reached over with a pad before bothering to speak a word.

“Package for an Ellie Burnbaugh. Please sign on the dotted line,” he said in perfect monotone, holding a box under his arm.

Frowning, Cassie signed where indicated and the delivery guy handed her over the package. When she moved to close the door, she thought she saw life behind those cold dead eyes, the kind of spark that made her skin crawl in that uncomfortable, chilly way it sometimes did ever since she was released from her mystery benefactor’s careful attention. Just in case, she slipped on the chain and made sure the bolt lock was on too before taking the package into the living room.

Monroe was studying a book with a serious look on his face, trying to find out where a lamb was hiding on a picture of bushes and trees and other animals. It was no surprise that he kept getting distracted by the image of a big, cuddly looking grizzly bear off to one side of the picture.