Free Bearilicious - Collection by Ashley Hunter Page A

meat?”
    “I do eat meat, and I did have a brother.”
    “Did?” he asked, turning away to flip the bacon he’d started.
    “He and my dad died in a car accident when I was nineteen.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “That’s life. My mom died of cancer when I was a kid, so it was just another thing.”
    He turned back toward me and nodded. I took a better look at him (since I was no longer tied up and terrified), and he looked even more weary than the last time I’d seen him.
    His stubble had receded, but his five o’clock shadow was still prominent. His eyes didn’t have the same intensity (though they were, admittedly, still gorgeous), and he just seemed generally less defensive. His guard was let down now that I knew his secret.
    “I’m going to go call my brother,” he said. “Flip the bacon so it doesn’t burn. I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
    I nodded. He nodded in return, too tired to say anything else, and left the room. This is definitely not how I planned to spend my weekend.

 
     
    V.
     
    Mr. Mathan’s lawyer/brother said he would have the paperwork ready by the next Monday. He had some other business to attend to. Mr. Mathan seemed a little annoyed by this, but I figured that was just his natural demeanor.
    He set up a way to work from home so that he could make sure I was comfortable/couldn’t escape.
    I wondered if someone would notice I was gone, but I rarely talked to my neighbors, and the few friends I had could do without talking to me for a week.
    They had their own lives, so we usually didn’t talk everyday anyway. In the realization that no one would be considered I was missing, I saw myself as a mummified corpse when I died, an old loner who isn’t discovered for months and months.
    This depressed me. I decided when I got home I would invest in having more solid relationships or maybe just some loud cats. Either would work.
    Mr. Mathan looked over the report I’d finished for him in silence as I contemplated my lack of impact. Since I’d put in my resignation verbally, I no longer cared about his criticism.
    “I’m surprised you got this done so quickly,” he said, perhaps to simply clear the silent air.
    “Yep,” I responded. “Silly me, getting it done quickly and bringing it by as you asked. Should’ve figured I’d be kidnapped.”
    “You’re funny,” he responded blandly. “It’s very well-done. I haven’t seen any mistakes yet.”
    “I’m sure you’re on the look-out.”
    “Yes, I am. I’m trying to get funding for an important project. It has to be perfect.”
    “I was wondering while I was writing it why you cared so much about bears, but now it makes sense.”
    “Right,” he looked up only briefly. Spending more time with him, I noticed his looks were less harsh, and a larger part of me started to warm to him. “It is more or less because of the curse. If I save a bear’s life, the curse will be lifted.”
    “How does one even get cursed? And with that, get cursed with becoming a bear? I mean, I thought people traditionally transformed into wolves or bats or… you know, something a bit more terrifying.”
    “Well, bears have been extinct in Ireland for a long time. One of my ancestors saw a bear - which was odd to him - and killed it. The bear was actually a fairy trick, so they cursed him. I guess they were still mad about the bear extinction. So, if one of us saved a bear’s life, the curse would be lifted.”
    “I assume you haven’t been trolling the woods for bears in distress?”
    “No, I haven’t.”
    “Hmm, you aren’t trying too hard to lift that curse then, huh?”
    He looked up at me and leaned back in his seat, “My plan will save thousands, if not more, bears. I’m doing okay.”
    “Whatever you say, Mr. Mathan.”
    “It’s Oliver, Ms. Tanner.”
    “I’m really just kidding,” I sighed, the wordplay no longer being fun. “This is weird. This is so weird.”
    “How so?”
    “We’re just leisurely