Bear Meets Girl

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Crush sat at his kitchen table, chin resting on his raised fist, and stared across the room. He’d crossed a line. Not with his boss or even his own moral code. No, he knew he’d crossed a line with Peg Baissier. She’d always hated him, which seemed only fair since she was the one woman Crush openly admitted detesting. But Baissier was very protective of the BPC “brand.” And what had happened to her “boys” tonight was not something she’d let go. Crush knew Baissier well enough to know that she’d never let this insult slide. Not her.

Yet she would never come at him directly. That was too easy. No, she’d find another way to get to him. Or, as she’d put it more than twenty years ago, she’d find a way to “make you hurt.” Since he knew she wasn’t one for idle threats, he felt pretty sure she’d make good on that promise. Especially now.

Still, Crush wasn’t worried about himself too much. Not that he wanted to suffer or anything, but it was what it was. Yet there were others who had now crossed her, too. MacDermot. Van Holtz, Smith, Malone. Even those two hybrid girls. They’d all unknowingly crossed a line with Baissier. Crush had warned Van Holtz and Gentry, who’d shown up at the Group offices an hour after everything went down. They understood, and when he and MacDermot had left, they’d been meeting with Smith and Malone, and Van Holtz had promised to ensure the girls would be protected.

But Crush couldn’t shake the feeling that ...

He heard the knock at the front of his house, and Lola raised her head from the kitchen floor. She snarled and Crush stood, removing his .45 from its holster and heading to the door. But one sniff had him lowering his weapon and pulling the door open.

“It’s you.”

“Is that any way to talk to your pretend girlfriend?”

Rolling his eyes, the adrenaline practically pouring out of his body, Crush said, “You are such a strange feline.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She lifted her hands. “You going to let me in or what?”

“It’s late, Malone. And I’m just not in the mood to—”

“Great. Thanks.” She pushed past him and walked into his house. Gritting his teeth, he followed her into his kitchen.

As soon as Malone stepped in, Lola barked at her, running around Malone and sitting down at Crush’s feet. Still barking.

Crush reached down and picked up the fifty-pound dog. “I know, girl. I know. No one wants these nasty cats in their home. Worse than rats.”

“I can’t believe you buy into that canine-media propaganda.”

“For someone so anti-dog, seems you’re kind of close to them.”

“Well, Smith and Van Holtz aren’t like those other dogs. You know, they don’t talk like ’em or strut like ’em. They’re different.”

“I’m becoming completely uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation,” he said, ignoring her laughter.

Crush kissed Lola’s head and walked into the kitchen, going right to the cabinet where he kept all her treats and taking out an extra-large bully stick.

“Here.” He placed Lola on the floor with her treat. “I think you deserve this, baby-girl.”

“Why don’t you just accept that she’s your dog?” Malone asked, dropping into one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

“She’s a foster. One day I’ll find her a nice family with kids.”

“Why can’t she just stay here with you?”

“No one for her to play with.” Crush opened the refrigerator, glanced in, then closed the door again.

“You’re restless,” she observed.

“It’s been an ... interesting day.”

“More like average for us.”

“Great. Wonderful to hear. And good to know that I have more to look forward to. Next, I guess Gentry will ask me to ...”

“Kill someone?”

Crush shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders.

“Doubtful,” she said. “Usually MacDermot’s department is busy just cleaning up my mess and Smith’s. And Smith and I sure are messy.”

“Are you saying I’ll have to clean up corpses?”

“Oh, God, no. We have specialists for that sort of thing. I just mean that you’ll probably spend a lot of time keeping me and Smith out of prison.”

“That’s what I’m reduced to? Keeping you and your wolf friend out of prison?”

“Trust me. There will be more to it than that. In some ways our world is much more difficult than the full-humans’.”

“I understand their world. It’s easy. Dangerous, but easy.”

Malone threw her legs up on the kitchen table like she owned the joint, crossing them at the ankles.

“So you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s see. First off, you went after your two replicas—as I like to call your brothers—as if they were covered in whale blubber. And then those two grizzlies at the office—”

“They kicked a child, threatened my partner, and went after that full-human girl. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there?”

“First off—”

“Again with the first off?”

Malone scowled at him and Crush raised his hands, knowing he was snapping. “Sorry.”

“First off, what happened at the meeting—totally righteous. But you challenged them before the meeting, too.”

“So there’s no ‘second off’? You have all these first offs, but no second offs?”

Malone folded her hands over her stomach.

“What?”

“Are you going to keep playing this game to avoid telling me what’s going on? Or are you just going to talk to me?”

“About what? Because something tells me you already know.”

“That Baissier was your foster mother? That she had you quietly outed as a cop? Yeah. I know. But I still want to hear it from you.”

Crush crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t think much about the fact that Malone knew all those details about his life. She was KZS, so it wasn’t surprising. Instead, he did kind of wonder what it would be like to discuss this with someone other than himself or the dog. Usually he kept personal stuff ... well ... personal.

But the crazy woman before him had little room to judge when it came to personal drama, so perhaps talking to her would be better than nothing.

“In the eyes of the law, Baissier is a foster mother. But what she was really doing was recruiting. She only took in bears under the age of twelve. I was five by the time I held my first gun. A little .38. Could fight with knives by the time I was ten, and could tell you a whole lot of different ways to kill people by the time I was thirteen.”

“That’s why you asked about Hannah and the others.”

“I knew if Van Holtz was recruiting kids, we’d have a problem.”

“He’s not. I promise. That is not happening. Smith—Dee-Ann—travels around. She’s found the majority of these hybrid pups and cubs living on the streets. She brings them in, gives them food and a place to sleep. If they stay, Van Holtz makes sure they either go to school or get tutoring and Blayne helps with teaching them how to handle being two or more things at once.”

“I get everybody else, but what’s the deal with Abby?”

“Dee-Ann found Abby in an alley, eating out of a trash can. She’s been with the Group for a while and she shifts only when she feels like it. And I can assure you no one has tried to recruit her to do anything except get her to use the ladies’ room rather than going out back to pee ... because we all find that really weird.”

“You find that weird?”

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

Ignoring her question, Crush said, “And Van Holtz said Hannah was rescued from dogfights?”

“She was. I was surprised they didn’t just put her down.”

“They didn’t pick her up at the pound, Malone.”

“No, but she’s been through a lot. More than most could ever hope to handle. You just don’t snap back from that.”

“But do you really think being around people like Smith and you is good for her?”

“Good for her? I’ve been nothing but nice to that girl.”

“I’m not talking about how nice you’ve been. I’m talking about the influence on a damaged young woman by hanging around a KZS killer and some backwoods hillbilly hit-wolf.”

“I’m a contractor!”

“I don’t care.”

“And it’s not like Smith and I sit around, telling tales to Hannah about who we’ve taken out over the years. All we’ve ever tried to be for that girl is a support system.”

“Not everyone’s made out for this life, Malone.”

“I absolutely know that. My Meghan’s not. Neither is Josie. They’re both going to be doctors. And Hannah can be anything she wants. I know for a fact that Mace Llewellyn offered to pay for her and Abby to go to any school they like, anywhere in the world. And maybe she will. Maybe she’ll go to college. Become an engineer. A scientist. A very strong forward,” she finished on a mumble.

“A strong ...” Disgusted, he took a step back from the heartless feline. “Oh, Malone!”

“What? We’re talking opportunities here. That’s all. Besides. . . did you see how she handled those grizzlies?”

“You’re recruiting!”

“For hockey!” Then she calmly added, “God’s game.”

“You really call hockey God’s game?”

“All Malones call it God’s game. Because it is.”

The bear blew out a breath. “I think I’ll let this go now.”

“I would.” Because Cella had her mind made up.

“So how’s the lion male?” he asked.

“Better. Docs took care of him and once he’s ready, the Group will move him to a safe house. And my uncles have already gone to the Callahans to let them know.”

“Your uncles? Why not KZS?”

“The Malones are closer to the Callahans than KZS will ever be. We understand them and we can get on their territory without being shot at.”

“I always thought tigers and lions didn’t get along.”

“We don’t. But even you can tell we’re not your typical tigers. And the Callahans aren’t your typical lions. You won’t be seeing them trading their males around like used cars. That’s not their way.”

Studying her, he guessed, “I have a lot to learn about your family, don’t I?”

“You could say that. But not tonight. I’m not up for that.”

“Fair enough. But maybe you can tell me what happened to the lion?”

“That grizzly was an asshole, but he was right. Mikey had been hunted. Unfortunately, he has no idea where he was, but he said he was like in some kind of animal reserve. A local one. And since the bears scared off that girl who helped him, I don’t know when we’ll be able to track the place down.”

Crush stepped closer, his hands still in his pockets. “I know why MacDermot and I let her go, but why did you?”

“For lots of reasons, but mostly because Mikey asked me to. She saved his life and that deserves our loyalty.”

“You’re not worried she’ll say something?”

“To who? I mean who’d believe her? Not anyone who could really hurt us.”

“You have a point. Besides, she can’t talk even if she wants to.”

“And why’s that?”

Crushek grinned. “She’s a car thief. A really good one. Only takes high end. Has specific clients.”

“You know her.”

“I know a couple of dealers who’ve hired her for special requests. She’s also a driver. She’s been involved in a few heists, but being a car thief is her true love. She’s been doing it full-time since she was sixteen.”

“You know her,” Cella repeated. “But you won’t ever tell anyone who she is ... will you?”

The bear shrugged, smiled. “I can’t risk the information getting back to BPC. Plus, she protected one of our kind—for that she deserves our loyalty. Right?”

Okay, so the bear was judgmental, uptight, and so straitlaced it made her laugh, but he was smart, brave, and wicked fast. And loyal to a car thief he didn’t really know.

“You want this girl safe,” Cella suggested, “we need to bring Baissier down, and we need to do it now.”

“What makes you think we can do that? I’ve known that woman for a very long time, Malone. You can’t take her down just because your friend wants to protect some girl.”

“I know. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I think Whitlan’s the key.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Do you really think Baissier’s after some taxidermist? She was watching that taxidermist for a reason. Smith and I think that reason is Whitlan.”

“So? What if he is the reason?”

She shrugged. “Maybe Baissier’s working with him.”

He snorted. “Peg Baissier? Working with a full-human? On anything? What are you? High?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“It’s also a possibility that a lion male might be shy and retiring, but that’s not happening, either.”

“I’m telling you she’s up to something.”

“She’s always up to something. That doesn’t mean she’s doing something we can use against her.”

“You don’t know that.”

Crush studied Cella. “What if she is up to something?” he finally asked. “What does KZS care? Or is the real problem here Baissier’s power among the bears?”

Cella picked at dried blood on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Knowing that woman as well as you do, Crushek, can you really say you feel comfortable with her having that much control over an army of grizzlies and polars? Considering how much she hates every other species?”

He didn’t answer and Cella looked up, not surprised by the frown on his face.

Cella nodded. “Yeah. That’s pretty much how the rest of us feel, too.”

“I understand, but thinking for a second that she’d involve herself with a scumbag like Whitlan ...”

“According to you, he played the NYPD, the FBI, and the Mob. You really don’t believe he could do the same with her? Someone so arrogant she thinks she’s untouchable?”

“She is untouchable.”

“Not if we get something on her. Not if you get something on her. And you start with Whitlan. That is what cops do, isn’t it? Look into shit? Investigate?”

“I usually like to have this little thing they call evidence.”

“Look, Smith’s gut—”

“If I have to hear about that She-wolf’s internal organs one more time ...”

“Check it out. Please.” When he only scratched his head and blew out a breath, Cella asked, “What? What is it?”

“I have a history with Baissier and it’s not exactly a big secret. At least, not among the bears. They might think I’m just trying to ruin her life.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” And she loved how appalled he looked at the mere suggestion that he might do something for revenge. So earnest this guy. “I just want her to stay away from me and I’ll stay away from her.”

Cella smirked. “You just tossed her boys out the fuckin’ door of the Group offices. Do you really think she’s going to stay away from you now?”

“How she handles her own shit is up to her. I’m talking about me. I mean, can’t the Group handle looking into this?”

“The Group?” Cella laughed. “You know how the Group handles really high-level shit like this? They give it to Dee-Ann and she starts killing people with her bowie knife ... that her own father gave her when she was ten. Trust me when I say, you do not want Dee-Ann Smith getting anywhere near Whitlan or Baissier.”

The bear briefly closed his eyes. “What about KZS?”

“KZS is made up of cats. In general, we’re a lazy species. So we don’t do what you’d call actual”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“ ‘investigations.’ ”

“Then what do you do?”

“Someone says, ‘I’m thinking they’re a problem’ ... and then they send one of us in to eliminate the problem.”

Scowling, the bear demanded, “You do that for every situation? Even nonlethal ones?”

“Oh, God, no! Of course not. If you just irritate us, then we just come to your house and pee all over everything.” She shrugged. “Sometimes shit in your shoes.” When the bear only stared at her with his mouth open, Cella quickly added, “Not me, though. I’ve never done that. Not ever. Because it’s ... it’s ...” She thought a moment. “It’s ‘morally’ wrong.” She smiled, proud of herself for remembering the phrase.

“Did you just air quote morally?”

Not sure how to answer that, she said, “Just for clarity?” Probably would have sounded more believable without making it a question, but God, the bear had so many damn rules! How was she supposed to keep track of so many damn rules?

“I don’t think I want to hear any more,” he said.

“Well, I’m gonna go anyway.” Cella tapped the table with her fingertips. “A girl never wants to wear out her welcome. Besides, I just wanted to check on you. It’s the least I can do for my—”

“Pretend boyfriend?” He shook his head. “Explain to me why you can’t handle your aunts when you’re a KZS agent?”

“Contractor.”

“What?”

“I’m a contractor. They call, I go in. Otherwise, I play hockey, I argue with my kid, I sleep.”

“They call, you go in, and do ... what? Exactly?”

“Anything up to a thousand yards away.”

He stared at her, briefly confused. But then his eyes grew wide and he asked, “You can take out a target at—”

“Thousand yards away. Yeah. Can’t you?”

“No.”

“Yeah. I’m good. I get the feeling they want to promote me, though. That’s why they’ve been having me work with Smith and MacDermot. But I don’t want anything getting between me and the Carnivores, ya know? Hockey is always my priority, right under my kid and the family. Eliminating high-level targets is, like, number four or five on my list of things to do.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Fair enough. And as far as my aunts go, you’re the one who said it was wrong to beat up the elderly so—”

Crush’s eyes crossed. “You were leaving, right?”

She laughed, stood. “So you’ll look into Whitlan?”

“It’s not like I have any other options, now does it?”

“Not if you want it handled all legal and shit. But, hey, no matter what, you’re really helping me out with my family and I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“Yeah. You’re welcome.”

She winked at him and headed out, but she stopped in the kitchen doorway.

“Something wrong?” the bear asked her and she heard real concern in his voice.

Crush watched the She-tiger stand in his kitchen doorway. When she faced him, he didn’t know what she was thinking. She sized him up, her gaze moving from his feet to his face. Walking back into the kitchen, she grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over until it was in front of him. Then she stood on it, bringing them eye to eye. Actually, she was already six feet tall, so she kind of stood over him now.

“Yes?” he asked.

“You sound suspicious.”

“You make me suspicious.”

“I make everyone suspicious.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Are you really going to kiss me now?” he felt the need to ask. “After everything that’s happened these last few hours?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I could give you lots of reasons—”

“Give me two.”

“—but it’s mostly because I want to.”

“Oh ... that’s a good reason.”

Cella laughed and leaned in. Crush watched her, curious what she’d do.

He’d never been with a feline before. He usually stuck to full-humans or other bears. And considering the issues he had with this one female, he wasn’t sure why he was letting her kiss him now. Must be the curiosity thing. The true bane of his existence. It helped him as a cop, but had been known to completely fuck up his personal life. Then again, it could be that he needed to stop hooking up with women who had so much to hide. They never seemed that way on the surface, but once he dug a little ... well, that was always a mistake. And unlike some of the guys he knew on the force, he didn’t go in looking for something, didn’t start digging trying to find proof that the woman he was currently with was nothing but a liar or married or had a boyfriend or was a certified psychotic. Yet even without trying, these were the things he often found out and that often led to tears and anger and lots of screaming—none of which was from him. Crush was never quite sure how someone else’s criminal history hidden behind several layers of false names and Social Security numbers was his fault, but there you go.

Yet, as the feline pressed her face into his neck and sniffed, he had a feeling he wouldn’t have to dig anything up. Cella Malone was so direct it had a tendency to be off-putting. She seemed to have no qualms about discussing her work with KZS, easily admitting that, “Yeah, sure, I kill people for a living.” She was blunt and annoying and rude and insisted on involving him in the most ridiculous bullshit.

But when her nose rubbed against his neck and brushed against his ear, he kind of didn’t care about all that. Who would? What she was doing felt so good that at the moment, nothing mattered.

Malone’s forehead brushed against his chin, then his cheek, and yet she still hadn’t kissed him. Not yet.

“You always keep your eyes open?” she asked softly.

“I like to see what’s coming at me.”

“Oh, very nice.” She studied him. “You going to put your arms around me?” Crush still had his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m comfortable.”

“Such a sexy, uptight hard-ass.” She rubbed her nose against his and despite his best intentions, Crush couldn’t help but smile.

“There you go. Now you don’t look nearly as fierce.”

“I figured you’d like fierce.”

“I do, but I’m helping you out for future females. You don’t want to scare them off, do you?”

“I’m told my non-expression is more terrifying.”

“Because we have no idea what you’ll do. Sniff and move on or start tearing off limbs.”

“That’s lovely. Thank you.”

“Uh-oh. The scowl’s back. Better distract you before I end up torn limb from limb.”

“If you’re that worried—”

She kissed him, cutting off the rest of his words.

It wasn’t a nice kiss, either. Oh, it was amazing, and he never knew anyone could have such soft lips, but it wasn’t “nice.” In fact, he didn’t know a woman could make a simple kiss so wonderfully raunchy and dirty. Crush secretly liked dirty. And he got the feeling Malone liked dirty, too, but that she didn’t keep it a secret.

She invaded his mouth with her tongue, fingers digging deep into the back of his neck and head, kind of holding him there. Crush’s entire body loosened, his arms falling away from his chest and to his sides, then reaching around her waist and pulling her off the chair. The chair ended up between them, so Crush kicked it out of the way. Keeping a solid grip on her, he returned her kiss. But he wanted more.

Without thought to anything but the demands of his body, Crush pushed her up against his refrigerator, his body pinning hers there. He let his hands slip from around her waist and travel up until they could grip her breasts, fingers squeezing while his thumbs circled her nipples through her shirt and bra. Her entire body shook and then her hands were pressed against his chest, pushing him back.

“What?” He heard the growl in his voice, and was kind of appalled by it.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Malone shoved and he released her, watching her drop to the floor.

She panted, gold eyes watching him close. Gold eyes that were accusing him. “You didn’t tell me you were a powder keg about to go off.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

She stepped away from the fridge, but she never took her eyes off him.

“You kissed me,” Crush quickly argued, feeling the need to defend himself.

“I know,” she shot back.

“Then why are you looking at me like—?”

She pointed an accusing finger. “Don’t play coy with me!”

“What?”

“You and I both know what’s going on here and I see now that I’ll need more time than just some quickie on your kitchen table. I’ll need a whole night to work with”—she moved her hands around in the air as if rubbing his entire body—“all this.”

Crush scratched his head. “I’m so confused right now.”

“That’s ’cause you’re not paying attention.” She shook her head. “I gotta go.”

“Why?” And his own question caught him by surprise.

“The kid’s expecting me home tonight, otherwise I’d totally stay. But I’m trying the whole good mom thing.”

“Yeah. Good luck with that.”

“I don’t like the tone and do not snarl at me.”

She took a step, stopped, walked back to him, and placed her hand against his crotch.

Crush jerked at the feel of her stroking his cock through the thick denim of his jeans. Of course, the way those fingers were working him, he might as well be naked.

“Goddamn,” she murmured, then again shook her head and snatched her hand away. “See what you’re doing?”

“What I’m doing? How is this my fault?”

“It is your fault. You and your big cock! Dammit!”

“You’re insane.”

“Certifiable.” She wagged a finger. “But you’re not getting out of this now. Better put some time aside, because when I nail you, I’m going to need all night.”

Her cold gold eyes scowled down at his crotch again and, after what felt like forever, she stamped her foot, spun away from him, and stormed out, slamming his front door behind her.

Crush looked over at the dog gazing up at him from under the table. Where it was safe.

“I don’t understand how this is my fault,” he told Lola, which got him a vicious bark.

“You don’t have to be mean about it.”

When Cella got back home, she walked in through the front door, passing the living room where her family was enjoying pie and TV. When they saw her, they all cheered, “Cella!”

Annoyed, she snapped, “Oh, shut up!”

Cutting through the kitchen, Cella headed into the backyard. She stopped by the table where Meghan and Josie sat doing schoolwork and glared down at her daughter.

“I hope you appreciate what a good mom I’m being,” Cella told her.

“You mean at the moment? Ow!” Meghan lifted her leg and rubbed her shin, which was probably where Josie had kicked her under the table.

“You’re a wonderful mom, Aunt C.,” Josie said, ignoring Meghan’s brutal glare. “And Mom’s inside.”

Taking the hint, Cella headed to the Davises’ house. When she walked in, Jai’s mother took one look at her face and pointed in the direction of the office that mother and daughter shared.

Cella marched through to the office, dropping into a free chair across from Jai’s desk.

“And hello to you, too,” Jai said “Is something wrong?”

“That man is hung like a donkey.”

“Oooookay.”

“I will need all night to work that shit. And I will work it.”

Jai sat back in her chair and her eyes briefly closed. Oh, and there was a sigh.

“Explain to me why you can’t just say ‘he’s really cute, I think I like him, I can’t wait to get to know him better’? Why can’t you say that?”

“Because I’m freaking out.”

“Freaking out about what?”

“I like my pretend boyfriend. Which is just weird.”

“Honey, calling a man your pretend anything is weird.”

Cella chuckled. “I like calling him that. It annoys him.” Cella threw her hands up. “You see? I enjoy annoying him.”

“Sweetie.” Jai leaned over, took Cella’s hand. “You enjoy annoying everyone.”

Cella thought on that a moment and finally admitted, “You might have a point.”