The Mane Squeeze

CHAPTER 9

With extreme care, Gwen pulled the sheet back until nothing blocked her from all six feet, four inches and 280 pounds of naked Mitch O’Neill Shaw. Raising her hands, she unleashed her claws. While her fingernails still sported Eagle colors, her claws sported the Steelers.

And her brother hated the Steelers.

Grinning, Gwen leaped straight into the air at the same time that Sissy Mae’s eyes opened, instantly growing round and huge as Gwen landed on her brother’s back with all her weight and slammed her front claws right into his ass.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

Ignoring his howl of pain, Gwen quickly and efficiently dug her claws in and out of her brother’s ass cheeks until she was satisfied she’d left a proper—and memorable—pattern. Because if nothing else, he needed to learn that she wouldn’t tolerate him treating her like a child and talking down to her as he’d done the day before. Even more important—it was fun!

Impressed with her work, Gwen nimbly leaped off her brother’s back and strolled toward the hallway. She waited until she heard Mitch’s snarling rage only a few feet behind her before she grabbed the door and yanked it shut. The satisfying sound of Mitch running face-first into it would sit with her all day, and she couldn’t be happier.

The doorbell went off again and Lock glared at the clock next to his bed. Not even seven and someone dared to wake him up? Especially when he’d only gotten to bed a few short hours ago. Unacceptable.

Marching through his apartment, he snatched his front door open and ended up glaring at Ric, who grinned at him from behind five-hundred-dollar shades.

“Morning, Mr. Sunshine.” Ric held up a bakery bag. “I’ve brought treats to gently ease you into wakefulness.”

“Fuck off.” Lock slammed the door shut, engaged the industrial-strength security system he’d recently had installed, and went back to bed.

Thirty minutes later he smelled fresh coffee under his nose and bacon throughout his house. He opened his eyes and glared at the smiling face of Ulrich Van Holtz. “How did you get past my security system?”

“Security system?” The canine’s grin turned into a smirk, making Lock’s eye twitch. “Is that what they call it?”

“You’re annoying me.”

The smug canine eased the coffee under his nose again. “But doesn’t that smell delicious?” he crooned. “And I’m also going to make you my perfect French toast. All you have to do is ease your way out of bed. That’s it. Good boy.”

“Shut up.” Lock placed his feet on the floor and buried his face in his hands. After all these years, only Ric had discovered the perfect method to get Lock out of bed and reduce any early-morning maulings.

Lock reached out for the coffee, but Ric pulled it back. “Why don’t you come to the kitchen first?”

In response, Lock roared, the windows rattling behind Ric.

“Or I could just hand this over now.” Ric gave him the mug as Lock’s upstairs neighbor slammed a broomstick against the floor. So Lock roared again and the sound immediately stopped.

“As always…the perfect neighbor you are.”

Gripping the mug and baring a fang, Lock let out a small snarl. What his sister called the MacRyrie family’s “Early Warning System.”

Knowing that warning system as well as anyone, Ric headed toward the bedroom door. “I’ll just go and get that French toast started. And you’ll just ease your way out.”

By the time Lock had finished his coffee, taken a shower, and put on a pair of jeans, Ric had a full breakfast waiting for him.

Sitting down at the table, Lock looked over the platters of freshly made French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and rolls, as well as bear claws from the nearby bakery. There was also butter, honey—European, from the scent of it—and warm maple syrup. Lock reached for the French toast first, but Ric slapped his hand away and placed a carefully prepared plate in front of him. As Lock waited, Ric went to the counter and returned with a small strainer. He tapped the side, covering the French toast with powdered sugar. Somehow the wolf managed not to get any on Lock’s bacon or sausage.

“There. Isn’t that nice?”

“I have to say our relationship is getting stranger and stranger as we get older.”

“Why? Because I enjoy taking care of you?”

“Now you’re freaking me out.” But that didn’t stop Lock from digging into his food. As always, it was perfectly cooked, but he expected no less from any of the Van Holtzes. Many of them, including Ric, were known for their superior chef skills among the most elite food snobs. Each Van Holtz pup was taught from very early childhood to cook, with the plan that one day they would work in or manage one of the family restaurants spread across the States and Europe.

“I thought you were working today,” Lock said when he got to his third helping, and the coffee had finally done its work of making him a tolerable human being and bear.

“I was, but Adelle is covering for me. I wanted to do something before practice tonight and I’m hoping you’ll come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Staten Island.”

“What are we going over there for?”

“To talk to Sharyn McNelly of the McNelly Pack.”

“Why?”

“Because they were the ones who attacked your little feline and her canine friend.”

Lock looked up from his food. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. And I’ve gotten the approval of the imperious Board to handle it.” Ric had gotten the Board involved? Yikes.

“And that’s why we’re going over there?”

“Yes.”

Pushing a piece of bacon around his plate with his fork, Lock asked, “Why do you need me to go?”

“To kill them all.”

Lock’s gaze snapped to Ric’s and then they both burst out laughing.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Smiling, Ric filled up his own plate with food. “I know. I know.”

“Why do you really need me to go?”

“To watch my back, of course.” Ric shrugged and bit into a piece of bacon. “And, you know, just to be your usual wonderful and interesting self.”

Sharyn McNelly, Alpha of the McNelly Pack, cringed again as she heard bending metal snap like a toothpick.

“Oh. Wow.” The bear lumbered out from her laundry room, holding a piece of broken pipe in his hand. “This kind of snapped off.” She’d lost track of how many things had “kind of snapped off” in the ten minutes the grizzly had been on her territory. From the second he’d walked into her house, he’d been “exploring” and the level of damage was killing her. “I was just trying to see how sturdy it was…not very, I’d have to say.”

“I’m sure it was an accident, Lock,” the Van Holtz wolf said casually while watching Sharyn. That bastard had unleashed that beast on her home, proving what she’d always known—the Van Holtzes were assholes.

“It was. Definitely.” The bear gave a small shrug. “I’m really sorry about that. I’ll be happy to replace it.”

Shaking her head, Sharyn focused back on the wolf. “So we were on your territory? So what? Who gives a fuck?”

The bear stood in front of Sharyn’s prized curio cabinet. She’d spent years getting that together. Hitting yard sales all over Staten Island, Long Island, and Jersey. She swallowed as the bear leaned around to examine the back of the case.

“The Van Holtzes give a fuck, Miss McNelly. Even more troublesome, your Pack attacked guests on my territory.”

She didn’t bother to hide her sneer. “Mixed breeds? That’s what you’re protecting?”

The wolf smiled. “Mixed breeds…and guests. That’s the important part, don’t you think?”

Fed up, Sharyn pointed a finger at the wolf. “You show up at my fucking house in your fancy limo and you think I’m just going to roll over and give you what you want? Over some crossbreeds? Is that what you think?”

“No. I think you’ll do what I want because it’s the right thing to do and because…”

He let the sentence dangle out there as the bear tugged on her cabinet and her hands turned into fists, her eyes cutting back to the wolf. He smiled at her.

“Don’t mind him. He’s naturally curious.” His head dipped down a bit. “You know how bears are.”

Yeah, she knew. That’s why she wasn’t surprised when she heard something tear and turned back to see the bear easily holding her six-foot-tall cabinet in one hand and feeling around the now-tattered wall it had once been attached to with the other.

“I didn’t know this was attached to the wall until it came out.” The bear winced. “Sorry.”

He pushed the cabinet back into place, but with such force the curios inside were slammed together. “I’m sure I can fix it.”

“No!” She stood up and the wolf rose with her. “Just leave it.” The bear stepped away from the cabinet, but his attention was quickly snagged by her television. Since that television was worth nearly seven grand and she’d only paid one grand for it in a back alley, she wasn’t about to lose it to a frickin’ bear. “Spit it out already, Van Holtz. What do you want?”

“What the Board says anyone with a first-offense territory breach is owed. Twenty-five hundred for me and twenty-five for Brendon Shaw.”

“You want me to pay that cat?”

“The Board represents all of us. It protects all of us.”

“Fine. Whatever. Just get out.”

“Of course. And thank you for your assistance. You can send the money directly to the Board secretary. He’ll be expecting it and it will be split up appropriately.”

He headed toward the door. “Lock? You—”

A snap of thick plastic cut off the wolf’s words and they both looked over. The bear held the sixty-five-inch flat screen in one hand like it weighed nothing and half of the TV’s base in the other. “Um…do you have another stand for this TV?”

“Just put it down,” Sharyn growled out between clenched teeth.

“I can get you a new stand or—”

“Down.”

The bear did as she asked and she walked the two interlopers to her front porch.

As the limo pulled off, Sharyn’s daughter and her idiot boyfriend walked up to her.

“Everything okay?”

Staring after the limo as it drove off her Pack’s Staten Island territory, Sharyn calmly asked, “You went off neutral territory to nail that mixed cat on Labor Day weekend?”

Donna Noreen Maire McNelly blinked a few times, which meant she was debating whether to lie or not.

“Well…you said to get her. So we got her.”

“Got her where?”

Donna licked her lips. “We tracked them to lion territory. Found the mutt first, went after her, and O’Neill showed up.”

“Then you chased them into Van Holtz territory?” And brought that rich asshole wolf right to her door.

“Well…yeah.”

Sharyn backhanded her daughter, sending her flying across the porch.

“What the fuck was that for?” Donna screamed, blood dripping from her cut lip, while her useless boyfriend, Jay Ross, leaned against the porch railings and kept busy by texting his “clients.”

“First you didn’t even kill the bitch like I told you to. Then you opened that fat yap of yours and led a goddamn Van Holtz to my fuckin’ door!”

“It wasn’t me!”

“Then who?”

Sharyn looked over at the boyfriend and without even looking away from his phone, he said, “Don’t even.”

“I look at you,” Sharyn sneered at her daughter, “and I think again why didn’t I make him wear a goddamn condom? Too bad I never have an answer that doesn’t make me throw up a little.” That said, Sharyn went back in to her house and slammed the door shut.

Donna McNelly glared at the hand held out to her, then slapped it away. “Fuck you!”

“Whatever.” Jay went back to his cell phone and her eyes narrowed. Useless. He was absolutely useless!

Pushing herself off the ground, she wiped the blood from her lip. “I can’t believe you didn’t do anything.”

“I’m not getting between you and your mother.”

Angry and needing to take it out on somebody, Donna slapped the phone from her boyfriend’s hand. He stepped toward her but stopped when she didn’t back down, their eyes level as they were the same height, the same build.

“Why do I bother having you around?” she sneered. “You’re fuckin’ useless.”

“You have me around because I give you what you need.”

She blinked, briefly studied him. There were only two things she ever really needed from the man. Money, to keep her mother off her back, and a good fuck.

Oh, wait. There was something else her boyfriend provided—information. “You know where they are.”

“’Course I do.” He smiled, showing his fangs. “And those bitches are closer than you ever knew.”