The Mane Event

by Shelly Laurenston

  Around him they talked about the offices Mace and Smitty had so quickly secured with Sissy Mae’s help, including a gorgeous cheetah receptionist who looked organized, highly competent, and like she could probably outrun a gold medalist sprinter. They chatted about the weather and the annual New Year’s Eve party at the hotel. They chatted about a new club on East Fourteenth. Llewellyn and Smitty dropped their bomb and then let him deal with it on his own while they drank bottled water and chatted about their lives.

  Finally, after he’d stared at the corkboard—and that one picture that said so much—for longer than many might consider normal, he exploded, his roar shaking windows and the glass on tables.

  Silence, not surprisingly, followed until he heard Ronnie ask, “Could y’all leave us alone for a minute?”

  They left without making a sound, and hands that were becoming as familiar as his own cupped his face. Ronnie turned him so he gazed down at her. One look into those hazel eyes and Brendon pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck.

  “How could he not tell me?”

  Ronnie’s arms held him tight and she said, “Because he’s being a passive-aggressive prick. But he’s not hopeless.”

  “I’m going to kick his ass when I see him.”

  “Call him. Tell him to come to the hotel. You’ll feel better once you know he’s safe. ’Round his own kind.”

  “I should let him deal with this on his own.”

  She kissed his cheek. “You’ll never forgive yourself if anything happens to him. We both know that.”

  He nodded, knowing she was right.

  “So call the little fucker up and tell him to get his skinny lion ass over to your hotel.”

  “And my sister.”

  “If you must.”

  He released her so she could hand him the phone she took off his jeans.

  Dez walked into the room from a separate door, carrying two bottles of water. She glanced around as she stepped closer to them. “Where is everybody?”

  “They ran to safety,” Ronnie joked.

  Those strange green-gray eyes narrowed and Dez asked, “Did Mace roar at you guys? I told him not to keep doing that.”

  “No.” Ronnie patted his shoulder. “That was ol’ Shaw here.”

  “Oh.” Dez seemed to immediately lose interest, turning and staring at the corkboard Mace and Smitty had set up. She frowned and pointed at a picture of Mitch. “Who’s that?”

  Sighing as he speed-dialed his brother. “Him? That’s my brother.”

  “I didn’t know your brother was a cop.”

  Brendon glanced up at the picture of his brother in full Philadelphia PD uniform. His graduation picture. The graduation and career Brendon had never known about.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know either.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brendon looked up as his brother sauntered into the suite that had been reserved for him.

  Hands in pockets and a cocky stance, he stared down at Brendon. “What?”

  “You said you’d be thirty minutes. That was three hours ago.”

  “I was busy. What do you want?”

  Standing, Brendon walked to the small fridge in the corner. He grabbed himself a beer and offered his brother one. Mitch waved it away.

  “Busy doing what?” Brendon asked, popping the top on his Heineken. “Dealing? Breaking someone’s kneecaps? Pimping?”

  Mitch shrugged. “Something I don’t think you should know about. It’s for your own protection, big bruh.”

  “I see.” Tempted to use the beer bottle, Brendon used his elbow instead, slamming Mitch to the ground. With his foot firmly planted against the back of the little shit’s neck, he said calmly, “Let’s try this again, Detective Shaw. What were you busy doing?”

  “Fuck,” Mitch growled while trying to dislodge his brother’s foot.

  “No, I’m sure you haven’t been fucking. You’d be much more relaxed.”

  “Get off me, you asshole!”

  “I’m an asshole? Do you know how long you had me believing you were some scumbag I had to reform?”

  “Yeah. Now you can brag about me to your yacht club friends.”

  “First, you idiot, I don’t belong to any yacht clubs. Second, what did I ever do to you to make you so goddamn pissed at me? I tried, Mitch. I really tried. But no matter how hard I try, you continue to be an asshole.”

  Abruptly, the fight went out of Mitch. He sort of laid there. “I didn’t want anything from you,” he said softly. “I didn’t want your help. I didn’t want your handouts. I wanted to prove I didn’t need you.”

  “Proven.” Brendon lifted his foot off Mitch’s neck and stepped back, turning away. “You don’t need me. You don’t need Marissa. You’re an army of one. Good for you.”

  “At first.”

  Brendon turned and looked back at his baby brother, who’d pushed himself off the floor. Some days it was like looking into a mirror, but Mitch didn’t have as much brown hair in his mane yet. He would soon when he got a little older. “At first?”

  “At first I was going to show you all. Show up for Thanksgiving dinner with my gold shield and enough attitude to choke a walrus.”

  “And?”

  “I went undercover. I became part of this crew. Irish mobsters. Old school. Christ, Bren, I did things…saw things.” Mitch shook his head and turned away. “In the end it was safer they didn’t know you or Marissa existed. I didn’t want them to have any leverage over me. I didn’t worry about Mom. Her Pride is twenty strong with four Breeding Males. But Marissa doesn’t have a Pride…I couldn’t risk her. Either of you. So I let you believe I was a scumbag. It was easier because you both stayed away from me.”

  Brendon swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Two cops were looking for you the other night.”

  “Nah. They weren’t looking for me. They were watching out for you.” Mitch laughed. “Poor guys. First you beat them up at the hospital, then your girlfriend and her Pack of She-wolves scare the shit out of them. They were doing me a favor, but I’m pretty sure their wives won’t invite me back to dinner anytime soon. They’re jackals and not real friendly as it is.”

  “So they weren’t trying to arrest you?”

  “No. I’d heard about you being in the hospital before Marissa ever called me.” Mitch took a deep breath. “The truth is, Bren, I’m supposed to be in protective custody right now. I’ll be giving testimony on the crew in a few months, and the city put me in this shitty little hotel with three other cops. Humans. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t leave, the room was tiny, the scent of those humans on some days…” He shook his head at the memory. “Too much. A few more days and they would have known exactly what I was. I took off. Been hanging in New York since. I asked Monahan and Abbott to watch out for you and Rissa as soon as I went into protective custody.”

  “Why?”

  “The people I brought down…I was afraid they’d find out about you. Afraid they’d use you to get to me.”

  “What about the trial?”

  “The prosecutor is one of us. A leopard. She knows where I am and how to get in touch with me. She said she knew I wouldn’t last five minutes in that hotel. But cases like this take months if not years to come to trial. They can’t expect me to stay trapped for that long. I’m better off taking care of myself.”

  Mitch ran his hands through his hair. “I’m really sorry, Bren. I never meant to—”

  “Forget it.” And Brendon meant it. “It’s over. Now we know and we can figure out what we’re going to do from here.”

  “I don’t want you involved, Brendon.”

  “Shut up, Mitch.” Brendon sat down on the couch. “Just…shut up. It’s too late for you to protect me. It’s too late for you to protect Rissa. You’ll stay here. We’ll amp up security. Mace Llewellyn and Smitty can get us people. Our own kind. Until this is all over, until you’re done with the trial, we have no choice.” Brendon stared at him. “I won’t lose you, little brother.”


  The suite door opened and Marissa walked in, carrying a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

  “Well, I’m here as ordered.” She frowned, her eyes darting between the two of them. “What? What’s wrong?”

  Brendon sighed. “I’m in love with a She-wolf and Mitch is an undercover cop mobsters are actively trying to find and kill. They’ll probably try to kill us too since we’re family.”

  Marissa dropped her bags, her face white with shock. Slowly she walked closer to the two males. She glanced at Mitch, shoved him out of the way, turning both barrels on Brendon. “How the hell could you fall in love with a She-wolf?”

  The two brothers looked at each other…and grinned.

  “You all right, darlin’?”

  Ronnie Lee smiled at Sissy Mae as her friend walked over to her. She knew Sissy would eventually come looking for her. They’d been traveling buddies for so long, they knew each other’s moods as well as their own. Now the two friends stood outside a fancy New York hotel in the biting cold, their lives about to go around a new bend in the road—for better or worse.

  “Called my momma tonight,” Ronnie admitted.

  “Lord, girl. Why would you do that?”

  “Glutton for punishment, I suppose.”

  “I guess so.” Sissy leaned against the wall next to her. “She tell you your brothers are on their way here tonight?”

  Ronnie sighed, big and long. “No. She failed to mention that.”

  “Probably wanted it to be a surprise.” Probably. Ronnie could tell from their tense phone call her mother knew something was going on. Most likely hoped her brothers would ferret out the information and get back to her. Then she could really shove it down Ronnie’s throat.

  Once her brothers got here, the party with Shaw would be over. She didn’t have to see them tonight, but they’d track her ass down by morning. In her estimation, she had one more good night with her lion, then she’d have to walk away. It gave her the perfect excuse. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

  “Did she tell you you’re hopeless and no good?”

  “No. This time I didn’t care enough to call on Christmas and how could I be so mean to my daddy. Oh. And there was lots of sighing.”

  “There’s always lots of sighing where your momma is concerned. Didn’t you know? The weight of the universe rests on those shoulders.” Sissy Mae nudged Ronnie’s shoulder with her own. “She does love you, Rhonda Lee. In her own special, mean-as-a-snake, everyone-is-against-her way.”

  “Yeah. I guess she does.”

  “What are you going to tell her about Shaw?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “What do you mean why? You gotta tell your momma something. The boy’s so in love with you, he can’t see straight.”

  Ronnie had always been the rational one. The one who, unless seriously drunk, always said, “Are we sure we want to do this?” But clearly all that wonderful rationality went flying out the window when she swung her fist at Sissy’s face.

  Sissy Mae caught that fist, too. In an instant, her eyes shifted from friendly human to Alpha Wolf as she shoved Ronnie back against the wall. Becoming Alpha Female wasn’t any easier than becoming Alpha Male. You needed your wits and the ability to make split-second decisions. You also needed to be able to scare the bejesus out of people. When Sissy leaned in close to Ronnie and bared those pearly white fangs, brutally snarling, Ronnie knew she’d stepped over the line.

  Turning her head away, she pressed back against the wall, cowering as Sissy came a hair’s breath from her face, snarling and snapping. Making it clear who was Alpha Female and who was just a Beta.

  Ronnie kept her eyes down and her body submissive. If she had her tail, it would be tucked up between her legs. When Sissy Mae felt she’d cowered enough, she released Ronnie’s hand and stepped back.

  “Someday you’ll have to tell your momma about Shaw. One, because your brothers will notice a big cat rubbing against you and purring. Second, the boy is not walking away from you anytime soon, Ronnie Lee. And you might as well get used to it.”

  Ronnie didn’t know if she momentarily hated her friend more for making her cower…or for being right.

  After five full hours of their arguing, Brendon lost his patience and stormed out of the suite. Mitch and Marissa didn’t even notice.

  Sleep. A few hours of sleep and he knew he’d feel so much better and a damn sight less mean. Because after refereeing between those two, he felt really mean.

  He stepped into his apartment and headed toward the kitchen. Pushing open the swinging door, Brendon froze.

  She sat at his counter, a magazine open in front of her, a pile of M&M’s next to that. What he found most disturbing was how she’d separated the colors out. Black and reds in one small pile, in little pairs. Greens in another. Yellows and oranges in another. No blues, which made him think she’d put those back in the bag or ate them. Nothing like the slightly obsessive-compulsive wolf to make life interesting.

  “You’re here.” Christ. Is that the best you can do, you idiot?

  She didn’t even look up from her magazine. “Yup. Looks that way, now don’t it?” She turned a page. “If you want me to go, all you have to say is go. We both know it don’t take much to get me to leave.”

  “Stay if you want to. Go if you want to.”

  What the hell was wrong with him? Why the hell was he goading her? He didn’t want Ronnie to leave. Ever. Isn’t that what he just spent five hours shoving down his twin’s throat? So why push her out the door now?

  Ronnie looked up from her magazine. “You gonna be an asshole the rest of the night?” she asked calmly.

  “You know,” he responded sarcastically, “I think I might. So feel free not to be here for it.”

  There. He’d given her an out. Now she could go and he could be even more miserable. Good plan, Bren.

  Ronnie closed the magazine and slid off the stool. She’d put on another pair of ratty cutoffs and a Coors Beer T-shirt. The woman really knew how to wear clothes most women wouldn’t be caught dead in.

  A few steps and she stood in front of him. He looked into her beautiful eyes and didn’t see tears or even pain. She didn’t look hurt. More amused. But before he could figure that out, her fist slammed into his jaw, knocking his head to one side.

  “Motherfuck—”

  Leaning in close to his ear as he massaged his sore face and cursed up a blue streak, “Talk to me like that again and lose one of those lion balls you’re so proud of, hoss.” Her forehead brushed against his wounded jaw. “And now you’re going to have to convince me to stay. Think you got the balls to make me stay, Brendon Shaw?”

  Without another word, she pushed past him and headed out of his kitchen. Maybe out of his life.

  And there was no way in hell he was ever letting her go.

  Typical shifter male. They handled stress in the worst ways. Especially when it involved their kin. Her daddy only got real crabby when he and Momma had a fight. Something about her pushed all his cranky buttons. Still, after a good fight, her brothers often had to drag Ronnie out of the house to a movie—or two—until they all felt it was safe enough to head back home.

  Ronnie made it to the door before Shaw caught up with her. His big body stepped in front of her, blocking her way out of the apartment.

  She barely stopped her smile in time.

  “You gonna move?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  Ronnie stepped away from him, claws unleashing. “This won’t be pretty, Shaw. I got in a little tussle with Sissy Mae tonight and I’m not my usual fun-loving self.”

  “Kick your ass, did she?” he murmured, ignoring her annoyed growl and tossing his leather jacket aside. “Sorry I missed that. Especially if you guys were naked and there was oil or mud involved. Now come here.”

  “Like I’d ever make it that easy.” She took several long steps back. “You want me, hoss, you better come and get me.”

  Forgetting—again�
�lions had quite the leap in them, she almost didn’t move in time.

  She took off across his living room, clearing furniture easily, and headed down the hallway. He made no sounds as he moved up on her, but the one thing Ronnie knew about lions—the females did most of the hunting. The males came in for the kill bite and to feed. Otherwise you could find their lazy asses sleeping in the shade while the females did all the work.

  Shaw reached for her, and she ducked under him, heading back the other way.

  “You little…”

  She laughed, loving the chase. Needing their ridiculous frolicking to take her mind off everything else.

  He caught up with her, and she felt the air move as his arms swung for her. She dropped to her knees and Shaw tumbled right over her, landing with a painful thud. She stopped long enough to look him in the eye. He gazed at her, clearly stunned.

  Licking her lips, she whispered, “Gotta be faster than that, pretty kitty.” Then she popped to her feet and jumped over him, heading down the opposite end of his ridiculously enormous apartment. His roar shook the walls, and Ronnie moved faster, knowing he was right behind her. Knowing he’d get her.

  Ronnie charged into one of the unused bedrooms, slamming the door behind her. She’d made it into the bathroom when the bedroom door slammed open. She had a distinct feeling the man had kicked it off its hinges.

  She went through the bathroom into the adjoining bedroom and out the door. Only Shaw hadn’t followed her, he’d backtracked to this door and she ran right into his arms.

  He slammed her against the opposite wall, his mouth crushing hers while his hands kept her claws from tearing him apart. She fought him. No fake fighting either. She kicked and bit and knew she hurt him by his grunts of pain.

  She tasted blood and she knew her fangs had scraped him hard.

  Panting, he pulled away from her, gripped her tight around the waist, and stormed off down the hall. She thought he’d take her to his bedroom so he could have his dirty, disgusting way with her—at least that’s what she hoped for—but apparently the kitchen was closer.