Boarlander Boss Bear (Boarlander Bears #1)(9)



“Oh, shit. How many do you have left?”

“Clinton and Bash.”

Creed took a step back and drew up straight. “Holy hell, Harrison. How are you still upright? Losing one member is hard, but you lost most of your damned crew. Why did they leave?”

“Liam left to move closer to the mother of his kid so he could share custody, Darin met a girl out of state and followed her, and the rest…well, you know.”

“Clinton?”

“He’s killing me, man. I don’t know how you put up with his shit.”

“He wasn’t so bad when I had him. Sure, he was a pain about girls coming into the trailer park, but when we started pairing up, he ran to your crew. He’s acting bad now because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He fled two crews before he came to me.”

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

Creed looked sick. “Yeah part of it, and it’s his story to share. It’s not my place to tell you.”

“Don’t worry about it, man. I get it. That stuff’s personal. I’m not the alpha he needs, or he would’ve opened up to me sooner. Instead, he’s focused on pushing every bear out of the Boarlanders. Hell, he’s challenged me for alpha four times this week. If he gets to Bash, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Kick him out then. Or put him down.”

“Creed,” Harrison said through a frown. “That’s f*cked up, man.”

“And do you think any other alpha would’ve put up with having his crew pushed out? How many bonds have you had to break to get to skeleton crew status? That’s poison right there, Harrison. Any other alpha would’ve cut him off or put him down.”

“Would you?”

Creed dragged his dark gaze to his crew of misfits and scratched his jaw with his thumbnail. “No,” he admitted low. “Clinton had potential when he lived here.”

“And do you still think he does?”

“I’m not his alpha anymore, Harrison. It’s not my call. It’s yours.” Creed crossed his arms over his chest and stared thoughtfully at his crew who were joking and laughing near a table stacked with odd-looking food.

The breeze shifted and Harrison nearly retched. Whatever they were feasting on stunk like hell.

“Look,” Creed continued, “all my bears are mated and working on families. They won’t move to your crew even temporarily without bringing their mates, and Clinton won’t do well with that. The only floater I have is Mason, and I can tell you right now, he’s hunting for a mate. He won’t follow your bullshit rule about no women at your trailer park, so if you want him, you’ll have to lift that. He deserves to find someone.”

“Yeah, Kong told me the same about Kirk, and Bash’s bear is ready for a mate, too. Clinton is going to lose his shit.”

“Let him. He’s made his problem all of your problem for too long. It’s tough love time, and if he doesn’t like it, he can run, just like he always does.”

“To where? There’s no more bachelor crews around here.”

“That’s not your problem. That’s his. Mason is in town right now, but I’ll ask him to help your crew out this season as soon as he gets back.”

“I sure appreciate it, man.”

“No problem. I don’t even know how you’re still sane after breaking bonds, so I’ll help however I can until you get your crew back on its feet.”

“If I can.”

“You will. If I can get those idiots to get along,” Creed said, gesturing to the Gray Backs, “you can handle the Boarlanders. You want to say hi to Georgia while you’re here? She’s been bummed lately. She says you’ve been avoiding her when she’s out on patrol.”

“Shit. I didn’t think she would notice.” He was closer with the park ranger than any of the Gray Backs. She’d saved his life when poachers came after him, and at the cost of her humanity. She was a shifter because her mate, Jason, had Turned her to save her, but she bore the same bullet-hole scars he did. Harrison usually checked in on her while she was on patrol around his territory, but he’d been steering clear so his shit mood wouldn’t worry her. “I’ll make it right, but it’s not her I’m here to talk to.”

Creed’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Your resident worm farmer.”

Creed shook his head and turned back to his work on the bobcat. “No can do today, Harrison. It’s bad timing.”

Bad timing? Everyone looked happy enough. The Gray Backs were cracking up as they ate that atrocious-smelling food. Jason was gagging while Gia clapped him on the back and barked out a laugh. There was a big, hand-painted sign strung between two of the trailers that said Happy Pre-Baby Party, and the table was decorated with pink and blue balloons. Tiny, nerdy, red-headed Willa, the worm-lovin’ woman herself, was sitting on a lavish, toilet-paper-decorated throne with a crown and a scepter as she ate what looked like a cracker with mustard and sardines.

“Is Willa pregnant?”

“No,” Creed muttered. “She and Matt decided they are ready to try for a baby, so apparently that decision warrants a party.”

Matt sat in another make-shift throne with a huge swollen belly that Clara, Damon’s mate, was covering in strips of dripping paper-mache. And as Matt took a deep swig of beer, Aviana was painting Future Alpha over the swell of his stomach.

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