The Island Of Bears: A BBW Paranormal Romance (2 page)

I just really couldn’t fathom what might have happened.

Presently, though still mind-boggled, I realized that no matter what had happened, I had to get up and get back to the museum in order to make the return ferry home. I could contemplate what might have happened to me later. Maybe once my thoughts had cleared even a bit further.

I sat up, then slowly stood, rearranging my sundress, my cream-colored cross-strap purse, and my thin cardigan sweater, which was still tied around my waist. Taking a deep breath, I had a look around, and what I saw, or what I
didn’t
see, rather, startled and unnerved me. I’d expected to see the stone fountain somewhere very nearby, but there simply wasn’t a trace of it. It was if it had never even existed. My voice came out in a near-whisper.

“What the...?”

Thoroughly rattled, I couldn’t even finish the thought to say
hell
. Instead of becoming clearer and beginning to make sense, things seemed to be only getting stranger and stranger. Incomprehensibly so.

Trying to remain calm and keep my breathing at a normal rate to keep from hyperventilating, I noticed that not only was I nowhere near the stone fountain anymore, I wasn’t even anywhere remotely near the museum. I couldn’t even see the faintest glimpse of it in the distance. The trees in this part of the island were different than those by the fountain, too. They were even taller, with thinner trunks, and they were covered by vines, which wound up the entire length of some of them.

A short distance away, I could see a cluster of trees that looked like palms, a sight that was downright bizarre. I hadn’t been aware that there
were
any palms on the island. Like parrots, it didn’t make sense that they’d survive the winters. I wondered if the palms I was seeing actually were a different type of tree and I just wasn’t close enough to differentiate. I wondered if whatever had made me pass out had affected my vision, too.

Completely disoriented, and that was putting it mildly, I realized I somehow did a bit of traveling during my fainting spell. How that was possible, I had no earthly clue. Maybe I came to briefly, and had staggered around for a bit before passing out again, I figured, implausible as that seemed. I knew one thing for certain, though, it was time to call the museum and request assistance from the island rangers. Clearly, I was ill or something and I knew I needed help, and fast, before I had another blackout.

I pulled my phone from my purse, unlocked the screen, and began looking through my recent dialed calls to find the museum’s main number, which I’d called the day before to ask about tour times. Once I located it, I placed the call, but before I could even put the phone to my ear, two words flashed across the screen:
Call Failed
.

Several parrots, or whatever strange bird was nearby on the island, shrieked and called to each other in rapid succession, as if laughing at me. It was at that moment that I noticed something else unusual about my surroundings, something else in addition to the presence of what sounded like tropical birds, and what appeared to be tropical trees. The air held the definite fresh, clean scent of salt. It smelled like ocean air. But this wasn’t possible.

Ellis Island was located in Upper New York Bay, which was fed by the waters of the Hudson River. And though the river was actually a tidal estuary where saltwater from the Atlantic combined with freshwater from the northern tributaries, as I’d learned from a fellow passenger while coming over on the ferry earlier, this typically didn’t give the river the tangy scent of salt.

Fighting panic, I realized that whatever medical event was happening to me was likely making me imagine things, too. Either that or my disorientation had thrown off my senses.
The air probably doesn’t smell like salt at all
, I told myself. I was just mistakenly thinking it. My brain was just malfunctioning.

I tried to place another call to the museum, but the call failed to send again. Then, yet again, a third time. Now I was desperate for help, a feeling that seemed to be intensifying by the second. Deciding to give up on contacting the museum, I dialed
9-1-1
and hit send. But this call also failed. That’s when I noticed that my phone had no bars, not even a single one. Wherever I’d wandered to on the island, no matter how I’d gotten there, I’d somehow stumbled out of the service area.

I knew I was going to have to get myself back to the museum on my own; I couldn’t wait for rescue. I had no idea how often the island rangers came to the particular part of the island where I wound up, if they even did at all. I realized that aside from possible seasonal tree-cutting and maintenance or something, they probably didn’t have any reason to come to this part of the island, and certainly not on a daily basis. If I wanted to make it back to the museum, I was going to have to rescue myself. I was going to have to do it fast, too, not knowing if I was going to have another blackout, or when.

I immediately began striding off in what I was fairly sure was the direction of the museum. The forest, or whatever it should be called, since it was appearing more and more like a jungle, was dense and filled with trees and fallen branches, though a narrow, slightly winding path cut through all the growth. I figured this was probably a path that the rangers used whenever they came out to the area, though judging by thick overgrowth covering the sandy, rocky soil of the path at several points, it didn’t look like they came out very often.

I hadn’t been hiking along for much more than a minute when I heard sounds of someone following me. Sounds so faint they were almost imperceptible. A distant snap of a twig, a rustle of a leaf. They were sounds so quiet that honestly, a bird could have been making them. But somehow, I just knew in my gut that it
wasn’t
a bird making them. I didn’t know how, but I just
knew
. Almost instantly, a thin trickle of sweat began snaking its way down the back of my neck, despite the fact that the day was warm and sunny, but not hot.

Increasing my pace, I continued speed-walking down the path, wondering who could be behind me and why they were. Gut instinct, the same instinct that made me feel there was someone behind me in the first place, told me that whoever it was, it wasn’t an island ranger. It just made sense that if it was, they’d shout or call out or something to identify themselves.

It occurred to me that it might be Gary, and as soon as it did, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t considered him earlier, when contemplating what had possibly made me black out. Being that he seemed pretty intent on bedding me that night, after I’d made it clear to him that that wouldn’t be happening, he might have followed me, I reasoned. He may have attacked me, knocking me out, and I just didn’t remember it. Or maybe he’d force-fed me some drug to render me unconscious so that he could violate me. He could have even slipped something into my food or drink at lunch, I realized. Disgusted and frightened at the same time, I quickened my pace even further, moving along at a rate of speed somewhere between a speed-walk and a run.

Not a few moments later, whoever was behind me called out in a deep male voice. A voice that definitely wasn’t Gary’s, which was on the higher side and nasally. “Please stop! I won’t hurt you!”

The man sounded like he was maybe only twenty or thirty feet behind me. I didn’t stop; I didn’t even slow down. If he identified himself as a ranger, maybe I would have.

He soon called out again. “I want to help you! Please stop!”

I still did not stop or slow. In fact, heart pounding, I accelerated my pace to a full-out run. The man continued shouting.

“Please! I can’t let you continue going in the direction that you are! There’s danger that way.  I don’t want to have to physically stop you, either. Please just stop! We can talk and I’ll try to help you!”

Confused and scared, and sure the man behind me wasn’t an island ranger, I kept running. He kept shouting.

“If you keep on running, eventually you’re going to make me tackle you in order to protect you!  I don’t want to do that! I’m not trying to scare you; I’m trying to help you!”

Despite what he was trying to do and trying not to do, he
was
scaring me. I didn’t trust him; I had no reason to. He was a complete stranger. A complete stranger chasing me through the jungle-y looking forest, telling me about some danger up ahead.

The stranger shouted to me yet again. “Please stop! Do you
want
me to tackle you?”

I certainly didn’t. After the mysterious and troubling events I’d recently experienced, I didn’t need some strange man tackling me on top of it all.

I accelerated my run to a sprint, glancing behind me for just a quick second while I did so, getting just a brief snapshot picture of the man chasing me. But actually, he
wasn’t
really
chasing
me. At least, he wasn’t chasing me by running. Tall, with long legs, he was simply striding quickly, about twenty feet behind me. Despite the fact that I was sprinting, apparently he didn’t have to exert himself much in order to stay on my tail. Which maybe shouldn’t have surprised me, since I was definitely on the shorter side, with shorter legs and a curvier, decidedly not-exceptionally-athletic body type, and even going full-out, I’d never been able to run very fast. At present, I wasn’t even fast enough to outrun a tall, long-legged man who was simply striding briskly.

My glance backward had also informed me of something else besides the fact that the man behind me was very tall. He also had a muscular, broad-shouldered physique, and dark hair that glinted in the sun. Even though my peek at him had only lasted a second, that had been long enough for me to see that he had a strong-jawed, attractive face as well. And maybe
attractive
wasn’t even a strong enough word. I didn’t want to slow down to take another look, but
drop-dead gorgeous
might have been a better way of describing my first impression of his face.

Sounding increasingly exasperated, he shouted at me again. “For the love of God, please stop! You are running in the direction of danger! The lake is that way! You must really want to be stopped physically!”

I really didn’t; I really just wanted to get the hell away from the strange, devastatingly attractive man behind me. The man who was a complete stranger to me and who, for all I knew, could have been a serial killer. Though something in my gut was telling me he wasn’t. If he were, he could have overcome me and killed me right away, and without all the shouting, I supposed.

However, at the same time, I still didn’t trust this man, and I wasn’t about to slow down or stop for him. Maybe he wasn’t a serial killer, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have another nefarious intent. His telling me that I should stop because I was headed toward danger just seemed like some sort of ruse.

“Stop running, goddammit! I’m warning you!”

And now he was
warning
me. It was becoming clear that the danger wasn’t in front of me; it was behind me. The danger was
him
.

With my heart pounding and my lungs burning, I began sprinting even faster, sucking in air as deeply as I could. I lost one of my slingback sandals, and then the other, quickly discovering that the sandy, rocky soil beneath my feet wasn’t exactly a comfortable running surface.

I glanced backward at the man following me. “Leave me alone!”

He wasn’t striding along anymore; he was now jogging to keep up with me, though it wasn’t a very fast jog at all. He didn’t appear to be exerting himself in the least. I glanced back again and saw that he hadn’t stopped or slowed, despite what I’d said. So, I drew in a great lungful of air in order to shout at him once more.

“I mean it! Leave me alone, you... You freak!”

I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d called him a
freak
; I was just scared and angry, and the word had just come out.

His response was a deep, rumbling chuckle before speaking.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I can’t just leave you alone. You’re heading into danger, and I have to stop you for your own good. So, you can either voluntarily stop yourself right now, or I can physically stop you myself, as I’ve said. Your choice.”

He’d slowly closed the distance between us and was now only maybe eight or ten feet behind me, close enough that he didn’t even have to shout anymore. Close enough that my fear of him was only increasing, because I knew he could now grab me and attack me at any second.

Not knowing how much longer I could sustain my pace, especially since the rocky soil was really hurting my feet, I continued sprinting, knowing I couldn’t outrun the man behind me, but driven by desperation and panic to try.

I glanced back at him again, panting from exertion. “I said leave me alone!”

To my horror, the man jogged up alongside me, then passed me, turned, and began jogging backward, facing me. “All right. You’ve made your choice. I’m going to physically stop you from going any further now, though I promise I’ll try to be gentle.”

CHAPTER TWO

Still jogging backward, the man extended his long, muscular arms, took me by the shoulders, and then came to a dead stop, making me crash into his hard, chiseled body. “I told you I’d have to stop you. Just up ahead is a dangerous place.”

I flailed and twisted against his body, trying to break free. “Let me go! Let me go this second!”

He was showing no signs that he was going to do so. In fact, he now had his arms around me and was holding me tight. He seemed to be trying to press my face against his chest. Which, even in the midst of all my flailing, I could not help but catch a little whiff of him. The scent emanating from his chest was something clean, masculine, and woodsy, with maybe just a hint of leather and a hint of spice.

It was heavenly, though I hated to admit it to myself. I didn’t want to admit to myself that the man who was restraining me against my will, the man who’d chased me down, actually smelled good.

In response to my struggling, the man tightened his arms around me further, shushing me. “Just be still. Be still, please, so we can talk. Please know I’m just trying to protect you. You’ve accused me of being a
freak
, and maybe I am in some ways. I know I’m definitely a safety freak when it comes to not allowing defenseless young women to run headlong into certain death.”

I was still convinced that what the man was saying was all some sort of an act. I was still convinced that he probably wanted to do me harm. It just stood to reason that any man lurking around on the island far from the museum probably wasn’t up to any good. For all I knew, this man could have had something to do with my blackout. He could have crept up behind me and knocked me over the head, for all I knew.

Then, he could have waited for me to come around so that he could enjoy the thrill of the chase, something I knew many predators loved. I just didn’t know. What I
did
know is that I’d be a fool to trust this man. The circumstances of our meeting were just too strange and suspect and the events of the day had been just too troubling.

I knew I needed to get away from him and somehow find my way back to the museum. But there was just one problem with getting away, even aside from the fact that the man was holding me tightly in arms that felt as if they were made of iron. The problem was that his intoxicating scent seemed to be quite literally intoxicating me. I stopped struggling just to inhale it, almost against my will.

I didn’t
want
to. I wanted to run. I wanted to break free from this tall, very well-built man. I wanted to get the hell away from his scent, and his extraordinarily handsome face, and his pale blue eyes. But somehow, I just couldn’t make any more attempts at the moment. My fight had really left me. However, I was still fully aware that I was in a dangerous situation and still had to break free soon, even if I had to force my body to move. So, when the man spoke next, I decided to make my move.

Still holding me tightly, though with his arms relaxing just a fraction, he looked at me with just the faintest hint of what appeared to be amusement softening his features. “There. That’s better. Now, are you done struggling for good so that we can talk? If I let you go, are you going to try to run anymore?”

Lying, I shook my head, still trying to catch my breath from sprinting. “No. No, I’ll just stand so we can talk.”

The man studied me face for a long moment, then released me. “Okay, good. Now, first off, what part of the island did you come from, and why—?”

He didn’t finish whatever he’d been about to say because I’d kicked him in the shin. Hard. I’d put every ounce of my strength into the kick. I’d actually been aiming for a different location, one a little higher up. That one likely would have been a little more painful of a place to get kicked. But the split-second my foot had left the ground, he’d done a quick movement, pulling his hips back, seeming to anticipate what my target was, and my aim had been a bit thrown off. But still, I’d connected with his shin, and good.

I was now sprinting away, heading in the same direction that I had been before, flying. I hoped that even with my bare feet, I’d hurt him badly enough that he wouldn’t be able to take off again right away and catch me. I hoped that my action had bought me some time to escape and find the museum. That was wishful thinking.

Within seconds, he tackled me, literally tackled me, taking me in his arms and somehow turning in mid-air in a display of pretty extreme athleticism. He landed on his back, seemingly completely unharmed, pulling me on top of him.

He actually had the audacity to give me a little half-grin. “Well, I did warn you about that.”

I struggled and thrashed against the hardness of his long body. “Let me go, you... you—”

“Freak? No, wait... You already used that one.”

“You let me go this second, or I’ll—”

“Insult me again? All right, give me your best.”

“Jerk!”

“Oh, come on. That is so standard. Try to be more inventive.”

“You... You son of a bitch!”

He had the nerve to feign a yawn. “Still not impressed. You’ve got to get more creative.”

Miles beyond angry and for many different reasons, I pushed against his chest, fighting to get up, but to no avail. His arms were wrapped around me too tightly, pressing me against his body.

“Let me up this second, you—”

“‘You’ what? This had better be good.”

“You son of a freak!”

I hadn’t meant to spit out the unusual insult. Though I didn’t know what I
had
been trying to say. With my anger jumbling my thoughts and making me wild and hostile, and with the words and phrases I’d recently said seeming to be stuck in my head, the phrase had just tumbled out. The man holding me to his body just chuckled, the action causing a rumbling in his chest, the vibrations of which I felt against my breasts. I couldn’t deny that the sensation wasn’t a terrible one. Not at all.

The man spoke with a definite twinkle in his eyes. “Now
that
was an inventive insult. I knew you had it in you.” Pausing briefly to chuckle again, he relaxed his hold on me just slightly. “‘Son of a freak.’ Yes, I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever been called that. It’s different. I like it.”

The position I was in, pressed against the length of a very muscular, very long, male body, was suddenly making me feel a little weak for some reason, and even more breathless than  I’d already been from my running.

With this funny weakness seeming to spread through all my muscles from my head to my toes, I finally stopped struggling. “You listen to me. You may have the upper hand physically, but time is not on your side. Any minute now, any
second
now, island rangers will come through this area, and when they see that you’re holding me against my will, they’ll arrest you for kidnapping and assault. They’ll haul you in so fast your head will spin.”

I knew that rangers likely
wouldn’t
be coming around anytime soon, but the man frowned briefly, and I continued, heartened that my threat had the desired result.

“Yeah, that’s right. You will be taken away in handcuffs and sent to prison for holding me captive. You’ll probably get at least ten years. The rangers are going to come through here any second... Probably at least a pair of them, and maybe even a big team of three or four or five of them... And when they see how you’re holding me against my will—”

“Who’s holding anyone against their will?”

I sputtered briefly, outraged. “You are! You’re holding
me
against my will!”

“Am I? How so? The way the situation seems to me, I’m simply resting on my back with you on top of me. I am resting quite comfortably and enjoyably, I might add. But as far as holding you against your will, I haven’t even had my arms around you for at least twenty seconds or so now. You have been completely free to get up. And yet, you haven’t sprang up and off  me yet, as if you’re not
entirely
uncomfortable, and you’re certainly not yelling your head off like I imagine a woman might be if she truly felt threatened.”

I realized instantly he was right on all counts, and my face flamed. Aware and embarrassed that butterflies had developed in my stomach just from the feel of my body being pressed against his, I couldn’t even think of what to say.

With his full lips twitching with amusement, he cocked one dark brow at me. “Who’s the freak now?”

Heart pounding, I gasped with outrage and indignation. “You are! Still you. You’re still a son of a freak. You’re a jerk. You’re a... A jerk face, a—”

“And yet, you’re still not making any move to get up and off me. Even though you’ve been free to do so for at least a minute. Makes me think you might be enjoying our post-tackle positioning as much as I am.”

I gasped again, though this time, only partly in anger and indignation. But mostly, I was horrified. I was horrified because he was right. I
was
enjoying our positioning, at least a bit. I
was
a woman, after all, and a fairly hot-blooded, passionate one at that. And he was the kind of man who’d make women fan their faces after he walked by.

I could tell just how much
he
was beginning to enjoy our positioning. The lower front of my body was pressed against some sort of bulge that seemed to be growing much firmer by the second, and I could tell this bulge wasn’t my purse. To my dismay, I couldn’t deny that the feeling of this growing hardness against me was making the butterflies in my stomach riot. I couldn’t deny that I liked the feeling, welcomed it.

However, I snorted, trying to make him think his assertion that I liked our positioning was absolutely wrong. “I only haven’t gotten up yet because I’d like not to be knocked down again. I’ve honestly just been waiting for the rangers to show up.”

Again, like he had the first time I’d mentioned the rangers, the man frowned. “We really do need to talk. I want to ask you some questions.”

Conscious that I was
still
on top of him, I quickly moved off and onto my knees, then pulled myself up to stand, straightening my dress and purse. “Oh, I bet you
do
want to ask me some questions. Here’s my answer to the first. No, I will not press charges against you, as long as you immediately point me in the direction of the museum and then leave me alone.”

The man pulled himself up to stand as well, still frowning, and fixed me with his light blue eyes. “That actually wasn’t my first question. But first, maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Holden Grant.”

“Well, thanks for that, Holden, because now I know exactly who to tell the rangers to be on the lookout for. I’ll tell them to be on the lookout for a... A freak named Holden Grant.”

He cracked a half-smile, the effect unexpectedly turning my insides to jelly. “I thought I was a ‘son of a freak.’”

“Well, you’re both.”

He snorted, still smiling. “All right.” He looked at me for a long moment, grin fading. “But in all seriousness, I have to tell you that you’re not going to see any island rangers around here. You’re a long, long way from home. And despite the fact that I stopped you from running headlong into your own death today, you’re still in a great deal of danger.”

*

I still didn’t trust him. I didn’t exactly feel like he was going to murder me or otherwise harm me, either. Although, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about that.

In response to what he’d said, I folded my arms across my chest and stared him down. “I think the only danger I’m around is
you
. Because any man who’d tackle a woman to keep her from running away can’t be up to any good.”

He scoffed, raising his dark brows. “If you recall, I did that only to protect you. And even then, only after repeated pleading, warning, and trying to restrain you while you were upright.”

“‘Unlawful imprisonment’ is what I believe the police would call that. Legally, it’d also probably be considered kidnapping as well. And I’m sure the police would consider it assault, too, just for another thing.”

“Well, you won’t find any police around here.
I’m
more or less the police. I’m the law.”

Now it was my turn to scoff, and I did, trying to express as much scornful doubt as I could muster. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m the chief around these parts. I lead a community of a few hundred people not too far from here.”

I scoffed again, wondering just what king of a game he was playing. “Well, that’s awfully funny, since I know for a fact, that any kind of habitation isn’t allowed anywhere on Ellis Island. I suppose maybe the rangers and the tour guides might get to stay on the island during the busy tourist season, but that’s it. No permanent dwellings or habitation are allowed. That was one of the very first things I learned on the museum tour today.”

While some sort of tropical birds shrieked in the distance, Holden frowned the hardest he had yet. “Did you by any chance encounter any kind of a stone fountain during your time on the island today?”

I hesitated before responding, wondering if I should tell the truth or not, and wondered  what he was getting at. “Well... Yes. I did come across a fountain. I wanted to take a look at it closer, so I cleared some of the debris away, and water gurgled up, and I dipped a few fingers in it. Right before I blacked out, or was attacked or something. And probably likely
attacked
. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”