The Mane Squeeze (16 page)

Raging now, and roaring, Mitch got back up and came at Lock again. Again, Lock slapped the big cat down. Even worse, Lock still wasn’t upset. He was laughing. Not mocking laughter, either, which she knew well from when Mitch and her uncles had done it to others. More like entertained chuckles as if he’d found a really great toy.

Again Mitch got up and, again, Lock batted him to the floor, Gwen’s brother going down with a bam!

Lock grinned at Gwen. “He’s fun,” he said, reaching out and cuffing Mitch without even looking at him. “He just keeps trying to get back up.” Bam! “It’s great.” Bam! “Like ‘The Little Lion Who Could.’” Bam!

Mitch, bruised and perhaps permanently brain damaged, tried to struggle up again, but Lock held him down on the floor by using the same hand he’d slapped Gwen’s brother around with.

“I’ve got to go,” he said to Gwen again, oblivious to the curses and promises of violent retribution being tossed at him from the floor. “But I want you to know I had an amazing time tonight.”

The words were said with such sincerity that Gwen completely forgot about her poor—now special-needs—brother struggling on the floor. She gazed into those big brown eyes that were almost too big for Lock’s human face and too small for his bear one and said, “I had a great time, too.”

“Then I’ll talk to you later?”

“Okay.”

He kissed her again, keeping it short this time, but then he pressed his forehead against hers, his silver-tipped brown hair feeling soft and silky against her skin, tickling her cheeks and chin.

“I’ve got to go,” he whispered.

“You said that. At least three times.”

“I know. I’m saying it again.” He took a deep breath and then moved away from her, but not before brushing his skin against hers. It was an almost feline move, and she barely stopped herself from climbing onto his back and steering him like a horse to her bedroom.

He made it to the front door before he looked back at her. Then his eyes grew wide. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He came back over to her and handed her a card. “These are my numbers, e-mail addresses, business URL, physical address, and mailing address. You know…if you need to get in touch with me.”

Get in touch with him? But he left out his social security number, his date of birth, and his high school GPA. “Thanks.”

“If you need
anything
you let me know. Okay?”

Melting. She was so melting. “I will. I promise.”

“Okay.” He walked back to the door, looked at her over his shoulder. “Bye, Gwen.”

“Night.” He opened the front door and Gwen said, “Lock?”

He stopped immediately. “Yeah?” Did he have to sound so eager when
he
was the one making the decision to go? Damn him! “Uh…could you leave him here? He kind of comes with the place.”

Frowning, Lock glanced down. “Oh, jeez!”

Oh, jeez?

“Sorry about that.” He immediately dropped the lion he’d dragged from the couch to the door, back to the couch, and back to the door. “Habit. Usually I bat my prey around until they stop fighting and drag them off to the brush to…well…you know.” He looked down at Mitch. “Sorry about that…uh…”

“Mitch,” she told him.

“Mitch. Right. Sorry about that, Mitch. And nice to meet you.”

Lock lifted his gaze toward hers, but shook his head and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Letting out a breath, Gwen buried her face in the couch cushions. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, pressing her face into the fabric, but she didn’t have any intention of moving. That is, until she couldn’t stand the constant moaning anymore.

“I’m dying. Help me,” her brother whined.

“What?” she demanded, glaring at him over the back of the couch. “What are you whining about now?”

“Hospital. Need hospital.”

Gwen snorted. “You’re not even bleeding.”

“Internal. Bleeding inside. Slowly
dying
.”

She got up and headed to her bedroom. “Such a drama king!” she yelled over her shoulder. “How does Sissy put up with you?”

W
ith her work gloves on, protective eyewear in place, and a small white mask over her face, Gwen began pulling out the wall she and Blayne had just demolished to get to the pipes behind it. What started out as a simple sewer-line job for the do-it-yourself couple rebuilding their recently purchased fixer-upper had quickly turned into a much larger project that would bring in some nice cash. Gwen loved when that happened.

Of course, they were only tearing down the walls to replace the plumbing. Putting the walls back up would be down to the homeowners, which was fine with Gwen, since she loved tearing down walls but detested the tedium of putting them back up again. Besides, she wasn’t very good at that part.

“So why didn’t you tell me about the Babes?” Gwen asked as Blayne dumped the pieces Gwen tossed to the floor into the large industrial trash. “Or about your first bout?”

“You know why.”

“Because I’d ruin it for you?”

Blayne looked up from the trash, her eyes wide. “Of course not! I didn’t want you to be embarrassed by me. I know I’m a mess,” she finished sadly.

“Stop saying that. You weren’t a mess. And can I just say you must be made out of rubber, because you kept bouncing back up, completely unharmed.”

Blayne grinned. “The beauty of the mutt. You can do that weird thing with your head and I’m indestructible.”

“What weird thing with my head?” Gwen asked, unclear what Blayne was talking about.

Blayne blinked up at her. “Nothing.”

Before Gwen could push her on that, the full-human couple stepped into the doorway. “How’s everything going here?” the male asked. They were very cute in that earthy, save-the-world, “I’m always green” way, and probably not much older than Gwen and Blayne.

“Fine,” Gwen said. She stepped closer to the wall. “Blayne, we’re going to have to move the toilet out.”

“Okay.”

“Move it out?”

“Yup. And you know you have a severe mold issue, right?”

“We do?”

“Yep.”

Gwen looked into the dark recesses of the walls and quickly stepped back. “Plus, you’ve got a snake.”

The couple stared at her. “What?” the wife asked, looking moments from bolting.

“In the wall. A really large, living, breathing, uh, snake.”

Blayne smiled and leaped forward. “They do?”

“We’ve never had a snake,” the wife said desperately. “It must have been the people we bought the house from. They were hoarders. Had cats, dogs,” she swallowed, “and mice. Frozen ones in their freezer. We just figured they kept the bodies of their pets!”

Then her husband added, “I guess our little Cotton Ball didn’t run away.”

The wife gasped, tears welling, and Gwen reached for her cell phone. “We need to get Animal Control over here and—”

Before she could dial, Blayne reached into the wall.

“Blayne Thorpe! Don’t even think—”

Then Blayne dragged the hissing snake out of the wall by the head. Not only was it hissing but Gwen could now hear rattling as well.

Panicked, Gwen jumped back. “Holy shit!”

The husband got in front of his wife but Gwen never understood the whole waiting-for-a-guy-to-protect-you thing. She was a runner and hopefully the guy could keep up.

Moving wickedly fast, Blayne got a grip along the snake’s body and slammed its head into the ground three times. As the snake lay there, stunned, Blayne pulled out the small hacksaw from their tool bag and sawed its head off. She tossed the body into the trash with the remains of the moldy plaster walls and tossed the head in after it.

While the couple and Gwen watched her in mute horror, Blayne grabbed a flashlight and took another look inside the wall. “Hey!” she called out cheerfully. “A nest!”

That’s when the couple and Gwen took off running.

Sissy stood in the doorway of the office she shared with Mitch at Llewellyn and Smith Security. They rarely used this office with both of them out of the country for the last few months, but it was theirs whenever they came home.

She watched Mitch stare out the window. He was rarely pensive. Not her Mitch, but she couldn’t shake the feeling he was up to something.

As she stepped into the office, Mindy walked by and said, “Mitch, I finally got your mom on the line. Line two.”

“Thanks.” He turned and reached for the now-buzzing phone, but Sissy slapped her hand over his. “Why is your mother calling?”

“Because she loves her only son?”

“Try again.” His mother rarely called unless there was something wrong or she wanted to see him.

“She’s returning my call. Now do you mind moving your paw?”

“
Why
did you call your mother?”

“I can’t talk to my own mother just to talk?”

“No.” Sissy’s eyes narrowed. “This better not be about that bear.”

“What bear?”

“The one that Gwen said dragged you around the room like a little boy dragging around his favorite toy.”

Now Mitch’s eyes narrowed and they stared at each other while his phone continued to buzz away.

“Whatever you’re planning, Mitch Shaw—”

Mitch gave a little snarl before tossing Sissy’s hand off his and lifting the receiver. “Hi, Ma,” he said while staring at Sissy. “How’s it going?”

With their job on hold until Animal Control could clear out the rattlesnakes living all over one poor couple’s property, Gwen and Blayne had the rest of the day to themselves unless another job came in. They went to their office to get paperwork done, but it was Friday and, to be honest, the desire to do anything
but
work got the better of them.

Around lunchtime they ended up in the basement of the Kuznetsov building. Most of their trucks were out on jobs and that gave them a huge space to utilize.

Gwen had Blayne put on her skates, and then she ran her through the drills her mother used to put her through back in the day. Because it was Blayne, Gwen had way more fun than she thought she would. No matter what she told her to do, no matter how many times she told her to do it, and no matter how often Blayne fell on her ass, the wolfdog never got upset, never complained, and always kept that smile.

After a couple of hours, while Blayne raced around the basement and Gwen threw things at her head, trying to catch her off guard, one of the wild dogs wandered by. He watched them for a few minutes before wandering away again. About twenty minutes later, they had all the wild dogs down in the basement with them. They brought food, and since Gwen and Blayne had never gotten around to getting lunch, they ended up eating with the Pack. Gwen usually hated being around crowds of canines, but maybe it was the wolves she didn’t favor as much because the wild dogs weren’t that bad. They were extremely friendly as only dogs could be, and they were also funny and, unlike the wolves and cats, very welcoming of mixed breeds.

Around four o’clock, two pups showed up. Both teenagers. One was Kristan, the daughter of Maylin, and the other Johnny, wolf and adopted son of Jess. Much bigger than any of the dogs who currently ruled Johnny’s life, Gwen wondered if the pup appreciated that Jess had married another wolf. Maybe he felt a little less alone? Gwen could relate after having spent her whole life surrounded by lions who were much taller and never understood Gwen’s desire to not constantly hang out with her cousins.

Not surprisingly, Kristan eventually wandered over to Gwen and started chatting with her. Like fellow wolfdog Blayne, Kristan was a happy girl with a big smile, but Gwen also felt a kinship to the sixteen-year-old canine because they were both half Asian. Although Gwen knew more about her Irish side and her ancient druid relatives who may have liberated the people of their small village from the Romans or…uh…enslaved them. It wasn’t really clear, and it depended on who you talked to.

None of that mattered to Gwen and Kristan because, just as it was between Gwen and Blayne, they were outsiders among outsiders, making them instant allies. So before Gwen knew it, she’d grabbed what Blayne called her “magic case,” which held all of Gwen’s favorite hair and beauty products, wet the teen’s multicolored wild dog hair and, with the reluctant blessing of her mother, Gwen began to remove a lot of the length to give Kristan’s hair more body and shape and make her look more like she was sixteen rather than twelve.

While Gwen worked with a blow-dryer and curling iron, Kristan sitting at her feet, one of the wild dogs pulled out his MP3 player and attached it to speakers. Great eighties music pumped while Blayne had fun on her skates with a few of the other wild dogs on their skateboards.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Kristan asked, not even bothering with the mirror Gwen had given her to watch the progress of her hair. Her immediate trust in Gwen was humbling, if not daunting.

“She’s very good. She’ll get even better.”

“Are you on the team, too?”

“Me? Nah.”

“How come? I bet you two would make an awesome team. And you guys could have your own nicknames like the Terrible Twosome or the Battling Bitches.”

Laughing, Gwen finished with the curling iron, unplugging it before setting it aside to cool. “Oh, yeah. That sounds like us.”

“I’m serious!” Of course, she was serious. Wolfdogs were always serious, even when they had no idea what they were talking about.

Gwen worked her hands through Kristan’s hair, playing with the curls until they fell the way she wanted them to. She stood and walked around, crouching in front of her. She fussed with the multicolored locks for a bit longer, wondering how long before Kristan would start dyeing her hair so she didn’t stick out as much.

Leaning back and looking Kristan over, Gwen had to admit she’d done a pretty good job.

Gwen picked up the mirror and held it up for her. “What do you think?”

Kristan glanced at herself, began to smile pleasantly and look away, but her gaze shot back and she snatched the mirror from Gwen. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God!
I look amazing!
” She jumped to her feet, forcing Gwen to scramble out of her way.

“Mom! Oh, my God, look!”

May’s hands covered her mouth as she stared at her oldest daughter. “You look—”

“Older,” Blayne muttered in Gwen’s ear after she’d rolled up behind her.

“It had to happen sometime,” Gwen muttered back.

“Yeah, but that young pup over there is a lot more fascinated with her than he was when he walked in.” The friends peered over at Johnny, and Gwen had to bite back her smile. Blayne was right. He was
really
interested. Kristan threw her arms around Gwen’s neck. “Thank you so much! I love it! You’re a miracle worker!”

“I always thought so,” a voice said from the doorway and both Gwen and Blayne went tense.

Looking over her shoulder, Gwen stared at her mother and—
betraying bastard, son of a bitch, hope he burns in hell
—Mitch.

With a walk that made men stop whatever they were doing to watch, Roxy O’Neill sauntered over, her purse swinging from her hand, her hips moving from side to side. To anyone who didn’t know her, she looked too busy being sexy to be worried about anything else.

But Gwen knew her.

Drawing her hands through Kristan’s hair, Roxy nodded in approval. “Nice. Very nice. It fits her face and lets her look her age rather than too young or too old. You’ve always had an eye, baby-girl.”

Looking around, Roxy smiled. “I see the plumbing biz is keeping you busy.”

Gwen’s jaw clenched at the direct hit, and Blayne immediately put her arm around Gwen’s shoulders.

“Early afternoon,” the wolfdog explained. “It’s been a long week.”

“Uh-huh.” After turning in a complete circle, Roxy focused again on her daughter. “I’d love to see your office, baby-girl.”

“Absolutely!” Blayne said and stepping forward, she took Roxy’s arm and steered her back to the double doors that led to the building elevator. “Let’s go see it. Gwen will be along in a bit.”

As Blayne walked with Roxy, she managed to slam her skate-wearing foot on Mitch’s instep as she passed him.

“Ow!” As he lifted his foot to rub it, Blayne turned into him, knocking the lion to the ground. “
Ow!
”

“Oh, Mitch! I’m so sorry!” No, she wasn’t. Nor did she stop propelling Roxy toward that elevator.

Once they were gone, Gwen realized she was clutching her hands together. Jess approached her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Immediately Gwen stepped away. “Don’t…”

Jess pulled back and the dogs gave Gwen her distance.

Determined to face her mother, Gwen let out a breath and headed toward the elevator. Although she did stop long enough to kick her brother in the balls before moving on.

Roxy watched her daughter walk into the office. She didn’t look like any of her cousins, yet she was naturally more beautiful than all of them. A face like her father’s, she had. With those bright gold eyes and that sweet grin, when she bothered to use it. Which, to be honest, was also like her father.