The Mane Squeeze (17 page)

“Can you leave us alone for a minute, Blayne?”

“But I haven’t finished showing you how our billing system—”

“Out.”

Unlike the good old days, when her daughter and canine friend used to jump at Roxy’s orders, Blayne didn’t move until Gwen motioned toward the door. “Give us a minute, would ya?”

“Sure.” Blayne got up and rolled out the door.

Roxy couldn’t help but study the quads on those tiny dog feet. The four-wheeled skates derby girls played in, unlike those ridiculous inline skates for the masses.

Roxy remembered when her daughter wore the black and gold skates of the Philly Phangs. And she’d worn them for all of one bout. She never thought Gwenie would quit so easily, even with all the injuries she’d suffered that day. Never had she quit anything before or since, but something else must have happened, because her daughter never went back and she would never discuss it. Not with her, Roxy’s sisters, not even Cally, whom she held in highest esteem among the O’Neills.

“How is she?”

Gwen frowned. “How is who?”

“Blayne.” When Gwen frowned, she added, “I saw what you two were doing in the basement. That’s derby training, baby-girl.”

Gwen shrugged. “She’s good. But that’s not why you’re here.”

She moved around her daughter. “Can’t a mother come visit her only daughter?”

“Not my mother, no.”

And this was why she adored her baby-girl. Gwen was all about the direct approach.

Roxy lifted her arms, sweeping the room. “You give up everything I have to offer you for this? A cruddy little office and no real work? What did I do? Why do you hate me?”

Gwen dragged her hands through her hair. “I don’t hate—”

“You must if this is what you’ve resigned yourself to. And if it’s not me, what is it? Your cousins? One of your aunts? Did they say something to you?”

“Ma, stop. They didn’t do anything.
You
didn’t do anything. I love what I do.”

“Did you see what you did with that little girl downstairs? How beautiful you made her look with a set of shears, a blow-dryer, and an iron?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You could be doing that every day and running the business. Making real money. Have a high-end clientele. And you’d have family around you, baby-girl. Family to protect you.”

She brushed her hand against the still-lingering bruises on Gwen’s face. They must be recent, since bruises for their kind didn’t last much longer than a day or two. Was no one watching her baby’s back? Other than that wolfdog who was too sweet for her own good? And Blayne’s face hadn’t looked much better.

“Who did this to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Ma.”

“Tell me.”

“Why? So you can make it worse?” Gwen smirked. “And we both know you’ll make it worse. Besides, it was just a fight.”

“And no one watching out for you. No one covering your back.”

“Blayne watches my back. Blayne always watches my back.”

“But for how long, baby-girl? She’s a canine who’s making new canine friends. Canine friends with money. Where does that leave you? I know you’re not comfortable with meeting new people, and that’s okay. You always have your family. The ones who love you and will always be there for you.”

Roxy put her arm around Gwen, kissed her forehead. “Let’s get your brother and go grab some dinner. We can talk then.”

“No.”

“Don’t be mad at Mitch. He was only trying to—”

“No. I mean I can’t. I’m…uh…meeting someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. A bear I’ve been seeing.”

Roxy smirked at her daughter. “Really?” A bear? And her Gwenie? Well,
that
was interesting.

“Yeah. In fact—” Gwen glanced at a wrist with no watch on it “—I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on.”

She kissed Roxy on the cheek and grabbed the straps of her backpack. “I’m really sorry, Ma, but you should have called first before coming all this way.”

Gwen walked to the door and saw her brother standing on the other side of it. She
saw
him. And yet she flung that door open like she hadn’t. Thankfully, Mitch had always been quick and he managed to keep the door from hitting him in the face.

“Off for a date. See ya.”

Mitch scowled. “With that bear?” he yelled after her.

“Damn right, bitch!” she yelled back, and Roxy had to rub her nose to hide the smile.

Mitch walked into the office, looking around in distaste, but Roxy didn’t know if it was distaste for the room or the bear.

“So you’re going to let her go out with that bear?” he demanded.

Okay. Distaste for the bear it was.

Mitch walked his mother to the overpriced parking lot across the street from the Kuznetsov office building. “I can’t believe you’re letting her get away with this.”

Roxy remotely unlocked her gold Lexus SUV and tossed her bag into the car. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Tell her she has to come home. You’ve done it before with the cousins.”

“Yes, but they were…”

Mitch, not sure how there could be a “but” there, motioned to his mother to continue when she stopped talking. “They were what?”

Roxy gave him that soft smile that fooled a lot of nonrelated male lions but not Mitch. She patted his chest. “You need to come to Philly for a family dinner, baby-boy. Make sure to bring your girl with you.”

Mitch grinned. “And I’ll bring Gwenie.”

“Mitch—”

“Invite the whole family. We’ll be there. Tomorrow night.”

Roxy shook her head and got into her vehicle. “I swear, baby-boy, sometimes…just like your father.”

“I’ll try not to take that as an insult, Ma.”

He closed her door and waved at her until she turned out of the lot and onto the street. Already working on how he would get Gwen home for a family dinner—also known among the O’Neills as a Family Pile-On—Mitch never saw that fist coming until it grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked.

“Not the hair! Not the hair!”

“You rat!” Blayne accused, while using her other hand to slap Mitch in the face and head. “You big rat!”

Desperate as he felt precious hairs pulled from his head, Mitch grabbed hold of Blayne’s arms and twisted them back until she let him go.

“Off!” he ordered, pushing her away. “Did you think I was really going to let this go?
Especially
after last night?”

She put her hands on her hips, reminding him of Gwen. “Because he batted you around that hotel room like a Tonka toy?”

“No. Because he had my precious baby sister on his lap for your entire derby bout.”

Blayne’s eyes grew wide. “How…how did you find out about that?”

“Don’t think you can hide anything from me, little girl. When it comes to my baby sister, I know all.” He walked up to her and leaned down until their noses touched. “And this isn’t over.” And it wouldn’t be until he got Gwen away from that circus freak bear and got her back to her Pride where she belonged and would be safe.

Smirking, and feeling pretty damn smug, Mitch headed toward the corner and a cab, but he froze when Blayne tossed after him, “You know everything, huh? Did you know that when your hair started falling out in clumps back in your senior year it was because me and Gwen put Nair in your leave-in conditioner?”

When he spun around, roaring in outrage, Blayne yelped and skated off in the opposite direction.

Jay Ross stared at the cash in his hand. “This is it? I usually get twice this.”

Bobby B., who owned the Staten Island bar Jay was in, shrugged and carried another case of beer behind his bar. “What do ya want me to tell ya? You’re not the only dealer out there. And the product you’ve been givin’ us ain’t been that great.”

“I need more money.” Donna’s bitch mother had been on a rampage since she’d found out that her kid once again nearly got her ass kicked by an O’Neill, but who’d counted on that goddamn bear being there
again?
And the only way to calm the evil bitch down was with cold, hard cash.

“Then bring in better product. The last two died pretty easy and that don’t make for much of a show,” Bobby B. complained, dismissing him.

Jay started to head to the door but stopped, an idea hitting him. “What about females?”

Bobby’s head came up, the older full-human looking at him with definite interest. “Females? A name will get you three times what you used to get. Bring one in yourself…and it’s six times.”

“Six?”

“They’re popular and hard to grab.” Bobby smiled. “Deadlier than the male.”

The man had no idea.

Jay walked out of the bar and headed to his car. No way could he move that product on his own, but if he could get the Pack involved…He shook his head, resting his arms on the roof of his car. Sharyn McNelly happily took his money, but she didn’t want any involvement in what he did. Still, there had to be a way, and Donna pretty much ran the younger Packmates. But her mother ran Donna…

Then again hate like that didn’t just go away. And that bear couldn’t be there every time to protect O’Neill. No way.

Yeah…Jay just needed to bide his time. And he was good at that.

Knowing what he needed to do to make some quick money now and a lot more money later, he unlocked his car and pulled the door open. He was about to get in, but he stopped, quickly scanning the street. It was weird. He felt like someone was watching him. He could feel eyes on him.

He shook his head. It was probably the cops. They were always watching him, trying to find something on him, but never could. And they never would.

L
ock parked his SUV in his allotted space under his building and climbed out. He took the stairs to the first floor, checked his mail, and then was heading to the elevator when his nose lifted, catching the air…and that scent.

Honey. Honey shampoo.

Making a quick turn, he walked out the front door and stopped at the top step. She was sitting at the bottom of the building stairs, staring across the street at the twenty-four-hour deli. She didn’t make a move, even as he sat down next to her. His narrow hips had no problem fitting in beside her on that stoop, but his shoulders nearly shoved her off.

Startled, she viciously hissed, but cut it short when she saw his face.

“Do you need to take lumbering classes or something?” she demanded. “Where is the lumbering?”

“I thought I was lumbering. I was definitely not walking on my tippy-toes.”

She didn’t say anything, her attention returning to the deli across the street. After five minutes of silence, Lock asked, “How was work?”

“Found snakes.”

He blinked. “Actual snakes?”

“Yup. The kind that rattle.”

“Are you…are you okay?” He felt like checking her for bite marks.

“I’m fine. Blayne had a nice little hack and slash party and I got to see a couple of cute guys from Animal Control.” She looked at him. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

“Uh…”

“Good enough,” she said, getting to her feet. She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on. Let’s get a hotel room and have sex. Or we can go up to your place to have sex. Let’s go have sex.”

“Or you can tell me what’s really bothering you.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me. Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Well…”

“If it takes you that long to think about it, I’ll find someone else to have sex with.”

And with that, she headed off down the street.

Lock watched her go. He still felt where her fingers had held his, could still smell her shampoo all around him, and he’d woken up that morning thinking about how he’d kissed her from the night before.

And after all that did she really think that he’d let her walk off?

Gwen was moving down the street, heading toward a corner where she could see cabs. She needed to get out of her head. She felt trapped by doubt, by insecurity. Even worse, she didn’t think she’d ever escape it. Would she still be like this in another ten years, another thirty? Would her family still be able to walk in her life and simply fuck it up by their mere presence?

And what the hell did the grizzly mean by “Well…”? What did “Well” mean? She couldn’t figure him out. He kissed her like he could eat her alive, but then he turned down an offer of sex. Why? It drove her insane that she couldn’t figure him out, couldn’t label and box him away appropriately.

“Hey, legs,” some little prick standing on the corner with his friends called out to her. “Where you goin’? Want some company?”

In the definite mood for a fight, Gwen stopped and turned to them. “What do you want? What have you got to say? What do you think you’ll do, little man?”

The full-human sneered, looking ready to give her that fight she needed, but then he backed up, his friends stumbling away from him. By the time they were charging down the street and Gwen was wondering what the hell happened, big hands caught hold of her and spun her around.

Lock gripped her denim jacket in both hands and leaned over, forcing her to bend back until she was practically U-shaped.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, because I’ve never liked repeating myself. First off, don’t come here, dump your shit at my door, and then walk away before you’ve even given me a chance to figure out what you’re trying to tell me. Second, don’t ever assume, for even a second, that my pauses imply anything. I’m a thinker, O’Neill. Thinkers pause. And third, you’re absolutely right that I want to have sex with you, but I’ll be damned if I let you fuck me because you’re in a pissed-off mood and you want to get even with whoever the hell you’re pissed with. When I have you, it’s because we’ll both want the same thing, at the same time. Not because you think you can walk all over me. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Hello, Lachlan,” an elderly man said as he leisurely walked by with a female on his arm. The couple appeared to be about the same age, and Gwen could only guess they were married.

“Hello, Mr. Guzman. Mrs. Guzman. Nice night, isn’t it?”

“Very nice night. Very nice.”

They continued on their way, apparently oblivious to Lock intimidating some poor feline with his overwhelming boar-rage.

“I’m still waiting for my answer, Mr. Mittens.”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed, but she checked her desire to punch his face and chose to nod instead.

“Good.”

He stood tall, but kept his hands on Gwen’s jacket so that he pulled her up in the process. Tugging her jacket into place, he said, “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving, and we can talk at the restaurant. Does that work for you?”

“Well—”

“Good.” Keeping hold of her jacket with one hand, he pulled her along behind him as he stepped off the sidewalk and into traffic.

Lock moved in front of a taxi and the driver hit his brakes, the vehicle’s grille stopping no more than an inch from him. Walking around to the passenger side, Lock opened the door and pushed Gwen inside.

“Fifty-first and Fifth,” he said.

Shaking, the terrified driver pulled back into traffic and Gwen wondered if going out to dinner with her mother and brother would have been that bad an idea after all.

“Okay, okay. Can I have everyone’s attention?” Blayne Thorpe smiled at the room full of people and Bobby Ray Smith, Smitty to nearly everyone who hadn’t grown up in Smithtown, Tennessee, or were related to him by blood or Pack, wondered yet again what he was doing here. “Great. I wanted to thank all of you for coming tonight on such short notice. As you know, we’re all involved in Project: Code Name Bear-Cat. And things seem to be moving along very nicely.”

The audience applauded and Smitty let out a bored breath, which got him a kick from a tiny little wild dog foot under the table.

Blayne pointed at an older bear couple and said, “The MacRyries said the reunion went better than expected
and
they got a new water heater at cost!” More applause and Smitty debated slamming his head into the table until he blacked out. “And although yesterday’s bout was a bit of a surprise for all involved, it worked out well! So thanks to everyone for all their help and involvement. That being said, we do seem to have two unexpected obstacles to our intended goal. Uh…the first is…uh…Danny, could you?”

Danny tapped on his laptop and an image of a long-haired, air-guitar-playing, eighteen-year-old Mitch Shaw came up on the big TV screen beside Blayne. “Sorry about the oldness of the pic. I don’t have anything more recent of Problem Number One. We’re working on what to do about him, but he’s not an easy one. Especially when he’s a big, fat tattletale who calls his mother at the slightest provocation!” She let out a breath. “However, I think we may have some assistance there. Right, Jess?”

“Right!” Smitty’s beautiful, if annoying, mate cheerily replied.
Why
she was involved in this weirdness, he had no idea. “The Insider. And the Insider is working on our behalf as we speak.”

“Excellent! Now on to our second problem. No pic for that one because, well, he’s sitting right over there.”

Smitty looked around, wondering who Blayne was talking about, and then quickly realized that she was talking about him.

“Me? How am I in the way of something I didn’t even know was going on?”

Jessie Ann slammed her hand down on the table. “You told Mitch what happened at the bout last night!”

“I didn’t know that was a secret.”

“Of course it was!”

“Then you should have made that clear when you told me.”

Jessie’s mouth dropped open and Smitty knew he was in for it, but then that
other
wolf spoke up. Just ’cause he liked the man’s Aunt Adelle, didn’t mean he liked him none. Of course, Smitty didn’t know him either, but he still didn’t like him.

“Out of curiosity,” the wolf asked, “what did you say to Mitch Shaw?”

“What Jessie Ann told me. That his baby sister spent the whole night on the bear’s lap. Cuddlin’.”

The wolf laughed, but the wild dogs, the one wolfdog, and the pair of older bears gasped as if he’d called up Satan himself. Even worse, Jessie slapped at his arm. He hated when she did that. Those hands may be little, but they could still cause pain.

“What did I do now?”

“You are such a…why do I…Oh! Never mind!”

“Fine. Does that mean we can go?”

“You sit your ass back down, Bobby Ray Smith!”

Grumbling, he did just that.

Blayne walked over to him and smiled again, but he wasn’t fooled by that smile. Like a weak, two-dollar poodle collar worn by a pitbull that smile did nothing but lull a man into a false sense of security.

“Hi, Smitty.”

“Blayne.”

Still smiling, “You know it would really help us if you kept things about Gwen and Lock that you may hear from Jess to yourself. At least until Project: Code Name Bear-Cat is finalized.”

He had to say it. “That is the
dumbest
name I’ve ever heard.”

And “snap” went that collar.

Blayne slammed her hands against the table and leaned in. “Now listen up, you Navy-loving son of a bitch! If my friend wants that bear, she’s gonna get that bear. And neither hell nor you nor some big-haired, twenty-hour-sleeping king of the idiots is gonna stop me from
making sure she gets that bear!
”

Van Holtz took careful hold of Blayne’s shoulders and pulled her back. “Excellent, Blayne. Very effective.”

He gently pushed her back toward the front of the room and faced Smitty. He wasn’t an Alpha, was he? But he was no one’s Omega, either. Smitty could dismiss him as a Beta, but that didn’t fit this one either. Naw, this wolf was…something else. And as laid-back, nonconfrontational, and fancy-talkin’ as he was, Smitty didn’t trust him for a damn second.

“Smitty…is it okay if I call you Smitty?”

“As you like.”

“Excellent. Smitty, we’re trying to achieve something here with two incredibly difficult yet loving people, and the assistance of our friends would be greatly appreciated.”

“I ain’t your friend.”

Blayne stormed back over to the table and the wolf held up one finger, stopping her in her unhappy and ranting-ready tracks.

“Understood. But Lock is friend and family to almost everyone in this room—especially your wife. They’ve been so close for years. I’m sure she told you about that.” And they both knew she hadn’t. MacRyrie had been at their wedding, but so had three hundred other people. If the grizzly had a special connection with Jessie Ann, neither had mentioned it. “She was there for him during his hardest time. Fresh out of the military, really not adapting to civilian life after all those years in the Unit.” The back of Smitty’s neck tightened with tension. The bear they were talking about had been in the Unit? The same Unit his cousin Dee-Ann had been in? Even Smitty’s shifter-only SEALs team stayed away from Unit members. The job requirements for the Unit made them more…
troublesome
than others.

More than once, Smitty’s team had been called in to “put down” a Unit member who had “snapped his bolt.” It was always one of their worst assignments. Not only because it was one of their own but because the Unit team members were the hardest to track and kill. And God forbid they ever came up behind you. God forbid they ever caught you unaware.

And leave it to Jessie Ann Ward to go waltzing up to one of ’em and say, “How do ya do? Come on over to my wedding, which is chock-f of defenseless people!”

Damn, but that woman was going to drive him into an early grave!

“I’ll admit, I’d hoped that something would develop between Lock and Jess, but…well…it didn’t work out that way, now did it? Although I think Lock was open to it. Of course, she’s with you now, and I’m sure her heart is forever yours, but wouldn’t it make us all feel a little better if we could get Lock settled with a girl of his own?”

Smitty sized the wolf up. Typical Van Holtz. Not much brawn but wily.

“You smooth-talkin’ mother—”

“Problem!” Adelle yelped as she ran into the room. “Mary was throwing out the trash and she said she saw Lock and a female who sounds like Gwen heading this way!”

The dogs scattered in seconds. Like the cats, they were good at that. But one wild dog wasn’t going until she got Smitty to move…and he wasn’t in the mood to move.

“Smitty, please!” she begged, holding on to his leather jacket and trying to pull him out of the chair.

“Not sure I’m in the mood to go. You promised me steak and I’m still waitin’.”

“He has to get out of here,” Van Holtz practically snarled.