Olcan (Boston Bear Brothers 2)

The van bumped along. She’d thought it was carrying her back to Boston, but they’d not been on the road long enough when she felt it pulling off the main road and onto some rocky gravel backroad. Whoever this guy was, he was a man for hire, not a bear. She would have smelled him when he grabbed her, and he had been warned not to give her a chance to shift. That was the reason for the quick public snatch and the tiny cage. He had to keep her contained until he got her wherever he was taking her.

It seemed like they were on the road, bumping all over, for quite some time before finally coming to a halt. The loud music stopped and he got out of the van. She steeled herself for when he opened the van door, expecting the worst. Perhaps he’d just shoot her in the cage and be done with it.

Instead, he poked a long metal bar through the bars, pushing it into her neck. She felt like she was on fire as the heat hit her neck, jolts of electricity jerking through her body until everything went black.CHAPTER SIXTEENOlcan

OLCAN CHECKED THE PEEPHOLE in his door and opened it, scratching his ass through his underwear. He’d been sleeping in a bit after an awfully long night with his clan brothers and wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. He scrunched up his face at the couple on his doorstep. James looked a little embarrassed, and Hannah was trying desperately to avoid looking at his crotch, managing to move her line of sight up to his bare abs and then his pecs after an exceptionally long pause.

“What do you want? It’s too early to be neighborly,” he growled.

“Do you know where our sitter went? Nia?”

“You mean Niamh?”

“Yes, her.”

Hannah was back at his crotch again, thoroughly interested in the sizable equipment pressing into the thin fabric of the fitted boxer briefs. He turned his attention toward her for a moment.

“See something that interests you, Hannah?” he asked with a wry smile.

She looked alarmed, quickly adjusting her gaze anywhere but where it had been. James turned to look at her, but she was already checking out the small leprechaun by his front stoop. It had been a gag gift from Fergus when he’d moved in—a house warming present. She kept her eyes trained on it, despite there being nothing fascinating about it.

“I haven’t seen her. It’s not my job to keep up with your help,” he told James, already pushing the door closed again.

“Well, she left the alarm off and Thor’s dog door open for him to let himself out. We came home this morning to find a mess where he’d apparently been left alone in the house for too long and had an anxiety spell. He’s torn up everything.”

“I guess she left in a hurry,” he replied nonchalantly.

“We just thought we’d check with you before we called the police,” James said.

Olcan groaned and pulled the door fully open again to look at him.

“For what fucking reason? Because the girl bailed on your job before you got home and your own dog tore your shit up?”

“She stole from us.”

“Stole what?”

“Wine. We’re missing quite a few bottles of awfully expensive wine,” he said.

“You mean she drank it while sitting in your boring-ass house with your spoiled-rotten dog? I don’t blame her.”

“It’s still theft, Olcan. Some of those bottles were expensive.”

“You can afford the loss.”

“I can, but I shouldn’t have to afford it.”

“You really are a complete and utter fuckstain, James, and your wife needs to stop staring at my dick. It’s embarrassing for you both.”

“I never!” Hannah gasped, her face crimson red.

“And you never will, lass,” Olcan told her. “Now, listen to me. The two of you are going to go back to your house and you’re going to shut the fuck up about all of this nonsense of having some poor girl arrested for drinking less wine than the two of you consume on a single Friday night. If I so much as see a police car pull up over there, you aren’t going to like what I do about it,” he barked at James.

“Are you threatening me?” James asked.

“Aye, and you’d do well to heed my warning, mate. I know you pretend to not know who I am, but you do know and, unless I’m mistaken, it’s been particularly useful to you in certain situations we probably shouldn’t discuss in front of your wife. I mean, she can’t testify against you right now, but she certainly can after she divorces you and takes half of your shit. Now, take your uppity little arses back across the street and call your maid to come clean up after your dog. This matter is closed. If I hear you’ve so much as breathed a single negative word about Niamh, we’ll be having a much more unpleasant chat. Got it?”