The Mane Squeeze

CHAPTER 16

Gwen walked around Lock, heading back to the house. “I’m going to Philly with Mitch, get some dinner, and let my family harass me into moving back.”

She was only a few feet from the door when she went airborne. She gave a short squeal, her body preparing to be flung across the small backyard, but luckily, he didn’t fling her anywhere, simply lifted her up until she could look him right in the eye…which was still a hell of a drop if he decided to let her go.

“Listen to me, Mr. Mittens. I have not, nor will I ever, fuck Judy ‘I desperately need a sandwich’ Bennington. I wasn’t mean to her because she’s friends with my sister and poor Iona never had many friends. It’s really hard to make them when you’re twelve and smarter than most multidegreed scientists. So I put up with Judy being around, but I have no interest in her. None. And never will. Understand?”

Not wanting to be dropped on her head, Gwen nodded.

“Good.” He lowered her to the ground. Gently. “And before we go back inside, I want you to understand something.” He released her arms and rubbed his hands against his thighs. “I am really not complex. I eat, I sleep, I work. That’s it.”

“Don’t forget the woodworking and playing with your toes.”

He chuckled. “Right. But that’s it. When I’m with someone, I don’t screw around on them, whether we’ve started having sex or not. I’m not one of those guys who can manage more than one woman at a time. And to be really honest, Gwen, emotionally you’re like three women. There’s a lot going on around you and I have to keep my focus at all times.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s true. Besides, you’ve come to mean way too much to me to screw it all up now.”

She wanted to believe him and, to her surprise, she did. She wasn’t using her head here, either, but her gut. Her gut was never wrong. “Fine, but if there’s anything else you need to tell me, now is the time. I don’t want to find out later.”

Lock let out a breath. “Uh…there is something I haven’t told you that I’ve been avoiding telling you.”

Gwen nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Lock licked his lips and admitted, “My sister’s a neurosurgeon.”

Gwen didn’t say anything, but the blank expression on her face said it all.

“She’s not an organ thief,” he argued.

“Uh-huh.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you before.”

“Because we both know she’ll try and kill me if she thinks I know too much?” she asked flatly.

“You’re insane.”

“Have you paid attention to the last twenty minutes with my family?”

She did have a point. But instead of arguing with her about any of that, he did what he’d wanted to do since he saw her standing on his parents’ porch.

Lock leaned in and kissed her. Instantly, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she groaned into his mouth, the sound making his knees feel weak and his stomach clench. From only a kiss. Damn.

“Lachlan, my dearest,” Alla called from the back door. “Sorry to interrupt, but dinner’s almost ready.”

Lock pulled back and gazed into Gwen’s face while he answered. “Okay, Mom. We’ll be right in.” He brushed stray curls off her cheeks. “What is it about you that makes me so crazy?”

“My incandescent charm?”

“Heh.”

“You’re not supposed to laugh.”

“Oh.”

“You’re supposed to agree.”

“Painting your nails with the team colors and logo of the Philadelphia Flyers does not mean you have incandescent charm. It just means you’re kind of weird.”

She held her nails up, making his skin itch to feel her hands on him. “But tonight they’re playing against the Islanders. It’s all about team loyalty.”

With a wink, she slipped her hand into his, and together they walked into the wonderful-smelling kitchen.

The first day Abby Vega could shift, she knew two things: She wasn’t crazy—no matter what her foster mother said—and she needed to get out on her own. That was three years ago, and she’d been living on the streets ever since. Of course, she’d lived on the streets as a canine. Much easier than as a girl. This was one of her favorite spots, too. An alley that had a restaurant on one side—amazing the kind of stuff they threw out—and a bar on the other. That gave her a good sideshow while she was eating.

Tonight would be no different. The guy opening the doors of the white van owned this Staten Island bar. Other than the liquor, she still wasn’t sure what else he sold, all those deals happening in this alley, but she knew it wasn’t anything legal. She’d seen him do all sorts of stuff in this alley, too, and not once, in all the time she’d come here, had she ever seen him picked up by the cops. She had, however, seen him giving money to cops.

And that’s who Abby thought she was at first. The woman crouched on top of the van, watching the deal go down. But she wasn’t, was she? Too many scars, and her eyes…

Abby’s own eyes narrowed, trying to get a closer look.

There were three men now, haggling over whatever they had in that van, completely oblivious to the woman watching them. Was one of them setting up the others? Were there a bunch of cops around here? It didn’t matter to Abby. If and when she bolted out, tail wagging, the cops would let her go. They always had before. Always patting her on the head, giving her a few treats. They never bothered calling Animal Control. Although they all asked the same question: “What the hell kind of dog is that?”

Abby chewed the steak bone, trying to get the marrow, and watched the men and the woman above them. The woman was silent until she pulled out a gun complete with silencer. Not a tacky homemade one, either, but a real one that was made for her gun. The woman sized up all three men, but shot only two. They dropped, and Abby’s bone fell from her mouth. The other man, the bar owner, turned to run. The woman didn’t shoot him. She did, however, take a large hunting knife from the back of her jeans and throw it.

The blade slammed into the guy’s lower back and he flipped forward, landing flat on his face. The woman dropped easily to the ground. She lifted up the two men she’d shot, one in each hand, and tossed them into the back of the van. Then she went to the other male.

Unlike the first two, he wasn’t dead, but he was unable to do more than crawl, his legs dragging uselessly behind him. And he was crying. The woman followed behind him, watching him. When she got tired of that, she stepped on his ass, pressing her foot down to hold him in place. She reached down and yanked the blade out of his spine, silencing his screams with a simple “Shush.” She slid the blade into the holster attached to the back of her jeans and crouched beside him, rolling him over.

“Names,” she said.

She didn’t even have to say it twice. He began rattling off names between his sobs. The woman nodded, but didn’t write anything down because she probably never forgot anything.

Once he’d finished giving her those names, the woman lifted him up by the neck and carried him to the back of the van, where she tossed him inside. Those strong arms reached in after him, and Abby cringed when she heard something snap.

The woman stepped back and slammed the doors shut. She held a set of keys in her hand. She started to walk around the van but stopped and turned, her nose lifted, nostrils flaring. A few sniffs and she homed right in on Abby, walking over to her. Abby backed up as far as she could, but she had the alley wall behind her. She bared her fangs, but the woman only smiled, the light from the open back door reflecting her eyes.

“Pup.” She looked down at Abby, cold, reflective eyes looking her over. “Hungry, pup?”

She was, but…?

“Come on then.” She motioned to the van and walked away. Did she think Abby would follow? Why?

“Ain’t got all day, pup,” she said.

Abby wasn’t crazy but…

She crept out from behind the trash can, her body low, her legs tense and ready to run at the slightest provocation. But the woman opened the passenger door and casually walked around to the driver’s side. She got inside and waited. She waited for Abby. Creeping closer, Abby stared up at the woman in the driver’s seat. She was on her cell phone. “I got the names,” she told someone. “Nope. I’ll handle it.”

The woman closed the phone and stare down at Abby. “Move your ass. I’m starvin’.”

Glancing around, Abby carefully climbed into the van, and the woman reached across the seat to pull the door closed. She relaxed back and said, “Guess no one ever told you not to get into vans with strangers, huh?” She started the engine and added, “If anyone asks, you didn’t see those bodies back there.” Then she winked at her and backed out of the alley.

Something told Abby she wouldn’t be back to this alley anymore for those free scraps.