The Mane Squeeze
Page 109
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I can look.
Gwen gestured with her hand. Just get to it. Why are the
Smiths calling for anything, much less war? Packs always seemed to be getting into wars with someone. She didnt understand it. They were either fighting each other or some Pride or Clan. The wars could get really ugly, too, lasting for decades.
Whos threatening war? Lock asked as he walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in one hand and the sheet still held around his waist with the other.
The Smiths, Blayne answered.
He sat down hard on the couch, his eyes wide. Why? Because of last night?
Yeah. But not because of you two. It seems they dont care about you two at all. Kristan and Johnny, however
What about Kristan and Johnny? Gwen demanded. When I called Mitch last night he said they were fine.
Theyre completely fine. But they were threatened, and theyre still pups.
And part of Jesss wild dog Pack, Lock answered, understanding the dynamics of the wild dogs better than Gwen.
Blayne grinned, obviously loving this. But Jess is with Smitty now, which means shes family. If shes family, her Pack is family.
Okayand?
Lock put down his coffee and buried his face in his hands. I see where this is going.
I know you do.
I dont, Gwen snapped. Neither pup was hurt.
True, Blayne explained. But they were traumatized.
Traumatized, my ass. Theyre just overprotected and spoiled.
And, the wolfdog happily went on, the Smiths consider it a hate crime.
Oh,
stop it!
Laughing, Blayne nodded. I am so serious. Word is its so bad that someone they call Uncle Eggie is, and Im quoting Smitty here, Fixin to come on up here and wipe the land clean as if the Lord himself had decided Staten Island was Sodom and Gomorrah.
Nice accent imitation, Gwen sneered.
I try.
This isnt good, Lock said. Uncle His chin lifted and his nostrils flared. Honey buns?
Gwen handed the bag to him. Honey buns for my honey bun.
He stared at her. Youre going to start calling me that now, arent you?
You going to keep calling me Mr. Mittens?
Pulling a bun out of the bag, the bear shrugged. I can live with being your honey bun.
All I know, Blayne said, is that Uncle Eggie must be some major badass, because everyones in this rather hysterical tizzy, even Mr. Smooth Move Niles.
Niles Van Holtz is here? Lock demanded around his bun.
Yes. And hot.
Stop saying that! Gwen snapped.
Why is he here?
According to Ric, he was in town.
For what?
Not caring about Niles Van Holtz, Gwen cut in and asked, This is all because my mother shaved McNellys head?
Lock choked on his bun. I forgot about that.
McNelly wont.
Well, Blayne said, this all goes deeper and further back than that. And it looked pretty much like war was coming.
Gwen studied Blayne. It
looked like war was coming?
I do believe Ive come up with a satisfactory solution to resolve all this once and for alland have managed to get everyone to agree. Now you just have to agree, Gwen.
Gwen stared at her best friend.
I have to agree? Why me? I thought I didnt matter and it was all Kuznetsovs and Smiths and pups.
Right. And the Kuznetsovs, Smiths, ONeills, and McNellys have all agreed to let all bad blood end hereif youre in.
Confused, Gwen shook her head. If Im in to Blayne gave Gwen her biggest grin and Gwens confusion quickly turned into righteous anger.
Oh, come on!
Laughing around Gwens bellow of rage, Blayne said, You and only you, Gwen ONeill, can prevent this war.
Gwen rubbed her forehead. And of course this is your
shitty idea, Blayne Thorpe.
Wait. Lock looked back and forth between the two friends. I dont get it. Whats Gwen going to have to do?
CHAPTER 28
Gwen rolled around and around that little hallway about a hundred feet away from the locker rooms. She should stop, take a breath, but the fact she couldnt breathe was making at least one of those impossible.
With her hands clasped tightly together, Gwen kept focusing on trying to force herself to breathe and not vomit.
Vomit, bad. Breathing, good.
She couldnt do this. She couldnt. And shed been a fool to agree to this. But now Gwen was in and couldnt get out.
Why? a sane person may ask.
Because, in the end, Gwen had been unable to pass up the chance to take the trophy out of McNellys mannish grip. And thats exactly what Blayne had used to get Gwen to agree to this stupidity knowing that Gwen didnt give a fuck about Pack wars or Smiths or men named Eggie. No, it was Gwens ego that had gotten her here. And either this would go down in history as the bout that stopped a war or it would go down as the time an ONeill vomited on the track.
Gwen gestured with her hand. Just get to it. Why are the
Smiths calling for anything, much less war? Packs always seemed to be getting into wars with someone. She didnt understand it. They were either fighting each other or some Pride or Clan. The wars could get really ugly, too, lasting for decades.
Whos threatening war? Lock asked as he walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in one hand and the sheet still held around his waist with the other.
The Smiths, Blayne answered.
He sat down hard on the couch, his eyes wide. Why? Because of last night?
Yeah. But not because of you two. It seems they dont care about you two at all. Kristan and Johnny, however
What about Kristan and Johnny? Gwen demanded. When I called Mitch last night he said they were fine.
Theyre completely fine. But they were threatened, and theyre still pups.
And part of Jesss wild dog Pack, Lock answered, understanding the dynamics of the wild dogs better than Gwen.
Blayne grinned, obviously loving this. But Jess is with Smitty now, which means shes family. If shes family, her Pack is family.
Okayand?
Lock put down his coffee and buried his face in his hands. I see where this is going.
I know you do.
I dont, Gwen snapped. Neither pup was hurt.
True, Blayne explained. But they were traumatized.
Traumatized, my ass. Theyre just overprotected and spoiled.
And, the wolfdog happily went on, the Smiths consider it a hate crime.
Oh,
stop it!
Laughing, Blayne nodded. I am so serious. Word is its so bad that someone they call Uncle Eggie is, and Im quoting Smitty here, Fixin to come on up here and wipe the land clean as if the Lord himself had decided Staten Island was Sodom and Gomorrah.
Nice accent imitation, Gwen sneered.
I try.
This isnt good, Lock said. Uncle His chin lifted and his nostrils flared. Honey buns?
Gwen handed the bag to him. Honey buns for my honey bun.
He stared at her. Youre going to start calling me that now, arent you?
You going to keep calling me Mr. Mittens?
Pulling a bun out of the bag, the bear shrugged. I can live with being your honey bun.
All I know, Blayne said, is that Uncle Eggie must be some major badass, because everyones in this rather hysterical tizzy, even Mr. Smooth Move Niles.
Niles Van Holtz is here? Lock demanded around his bun.
Yes. And hot.
Stop saying that! Gwen snapped.
Why is he here?
According to Ric, he was in town.
For what?
Not caring about Niles Van Holtz, Gwen cut in and asked, This is all because my mother shaved McNellys head?
Lock choked on his bun. I forgot about that.
McNelly wont.
Well, Blayne said, this all goes deeper and further back than that. And it looked pretty much like war was coming.
Gwen studied Blayne. It
looked like war was coming?
I do believe Ive come up with a satisfactory solution to resolve all this once and for alland have managed to get everyone to agree. Now you just have to agree, Gwen.
Gwen stared at her best friend.
I have to agree? Why me? I thought I didnt matter and it was all Kuznetsovs and Smiths and pups.
Right. And the Kuznetsovs, Smiths, ONeills, and McNellys have all agreed to let all bad blood end hereif youre in.
Confused, Gwen shook her head. If Im in to Blayne gave Gwen her biggest grin and Gwens confusion quickly turned into righteous anger.
Oh, come on!
Laughing around Gwens bellow of rage, Blayne said, You and only you, Gwen ONeill, can prevent this war.
Gwen rubbed her forehead. And of course this is your
shitty idea, Blayne Thorpe.
Wait. Lock looked back and forth between the two friends. I dont get it. Whats Gwen going to have to do?
CHAPTER 28
Gwen rolled around and around that little hallway about a hundred feet away from the locker rooms. She should stop, take a breath, but the fact she couldnt breathe was making at least one of those impossible.
With her hands clasped tightly together, Gwen kept focusing on trying to force herself to breathe and not vomit.
Vomit, bad. Breathing, good.
She couldnt do this. She couldnt. And shed been a fool to agree to this. But now Gwen was in and couldnt get out.
Why? a sane person may ask.
Because, in the end, Gwen had been unable to pass up the chance to take the trophy out of McNellys mannish grip. And thats exactly what Blayne had used to get Gwen to agree to this stupidity knowing that Gwen didnt give a fuck about Pack wars or Smiths or men named Eggie. No, it was Gwens ego that had gotten her here. And either this would go down in history as the bout that stopped a war or it would go down as the time an ONeill vomited on the track.
