Chance Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire 6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dad had gone after them in the night just to hurt them? To kill them. To destroy their family.
    “Oh, my God,” she murmured as she swung her horrified gaze to Chance who sat beside Dalton now, staring sadly back at her.
    He wasn’t the monster.
    She was.

Chapter Five
     
    Emily stumbled from Smiley’s and into the street, heaving frozen breath like a freight train in front of her. Her entire life, she’d been lied to. She’d been turned into a weapon by the two men who were supposed to take care of her.
    Dad and Uncle Victor had convinced her she needed to stay friendless and lonely because that made her strong. They’d manipulated her into living a half-life so they could weaken her enough to use her against the shifters when they felt like pulling a trigger. She was the damned bullet!
    An entire life of being told she was privileged and righteous because she was human. All of the horrifying bedtime stories about cold werewolves with no heartbeats and no feelings, but she’d seen Chance’s face in there. He felt everything. He was warm. He had a heartbeat. For fuck’s sake, he knew she was betraying him and still he’d warmed her at the bar and bartered a seat for her so she could be comfortable.
    Chance was right. The worst thing she could do was listen to men whose hearts were full of hate, and what had she done? Listened to them her whole damned life! She wanted to claw at her skin and drain the Vega blood out of her, cell by cell. Disgusted with her entire life, she pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and dialed Uncle Victor. He’d already called ten times since she’d been in the bar.
    “You’re late reporting in,” he said in his scratchy, sickly voice. He was on his deathbed, and that used to make her sad, but not anymore. Karma was a cold bitch, and Uncle Victor had pissed her off repeatedly.
    “I’m not doing it.”
    “Niece,” he drawled out in a pitying voice.
    “Don’t you fucking call me that. You’re no family of mine. Not anymore. You said they hunted Dad in the night and killed him while he slept. You lied!”
    “Emily, no one knows what really happened—”
    “Dalton Dawson has a hanging scar, Victor. Dad did that. You lied to me. You both did. They aren’t monsters like you said.”
    “Emily, you’re emotional, and it’s understandable. It’s a jolt meeting them for the first time. They’re conniving, and they have instincts on how to turn you. You have to be stronger than that.”
    “Stronger? I let you and Dad turn me into”—she looked down at herself in disgust—“this thing I can’t respect anymore. Fuck your mission to hurt people. Fuck Dad’s mission. If he died at their hands, he asked for it.”
    “Emily!”
    She ended the call and dropped the phone in the mud, desperate not to touch it an instant more.
    “Who are you?” Chance asked.
    With a gasp, she rounded on him. Her teeth chattered with how much she loathed herself right now. He was leaning on the side of his cousin’s truck, head cocked, green eyes lightened, arm muscles straining against his sweater. He could kill her in an instant.
    Maybe she deserved it.
    “I’m Emily Vega, daughter of Emanuel Vega, and the last of the Hell Hunters.”
    “Fuck,” Chance said, backing up a few steps as if she was a snake poised to strike.
    He looked behind him at the bar, then back. “You can’t hurt my family. Please. Dalton’s lost a baby before, lost a mate, and he is finally happy with Kate. He’s going to be a dad. Please, just let us be.” His blazing eyes were stripped bare and so raw she couldn’t hold his gaze.
    “Did you mean what you said? Does the offer still stand to show me who you are?”
    “Why would you want to? Don’t you know already?”
    Gritting her teeth, she dared a glance at him, then back to his shoes, an inch deep in mud. “I was told you’re different than you turned out to be, and by people I trusted.”
    “Your dad?”
    She dipped her chin once, feeling like her