The Mane Attraction (26 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Mane Attraction
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Again, the crowd went wild, and Mitch was briefly reminded of the soccer riots in Europe before he jumped over the railing and tore across the track toward Sissy’s car.
He made it there before her brothers and without even thinking, ripped the crushed side door off the car, tossing it behind him. He might have hit someone, but he didn’t care.
“Sissy?”
He crouched beside her, relieved to see that she at least had on all the proper gear, from a six-point harness seat belt to a helmet that matched her all-black fire-retardant racing suit and a neck brace.
Christ knew she really needed that freakin’ neck brace.
“Sissy!”
Her eyes opened, and she blinked, looking around. When she finally looked at him, she asked one thing ...
“Did we win?”
Chapter 21
T
hey had to cut her out of the car because her seat—and her—had gotten lodged in by the crushed metal, making it impossible for her to get out on her own. Mitch helped, pulling her out completely when her uncles told him to. That’s when he asked her, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
That was easy. “Eighty-five thousand!”
“Great.”
Sissy stood, even though she got the feeling Mitch wanted nothing more than to stretch her out on the ground or even better, put her in an ambulance. But she kept her arm around his shoulder so he could hold her up. She glanced down at the ground and the inert form of her brother. “What happened to Travis?”
Mitch winced. “I hit him with the door after I tore it off. It was a total accident.”
“Marry me,” she spouted before she could stop herself.
But Mitch only grinned and said, “You say this now when you’re not in your right mind. Then you’ll yell at me when I take advantage of you.”
Sissy started to laugh, but someone punched her in the head from behind. If Mitch hadn’t had his arm around her, she would have gone headfirst back into the car.
“You cheating heifer!”
Sissy snorted. “I didn’t cheat, you blind bitch. Although I could have. But the wonder of me is that I don’t need to cheat to win against your lazy cat ass!”
Paula Jo reached for Sissy, but Dee pushed past her and swung her helmet wide, bashing the right side of Paula’s face. And that’s when it turned ugly—because the aunts got involved.
Really, there was nothing quite like watching late middle-aged women go at it. Sissy tried to pull her aunts apart, but this involved some long held grudges. Plus, she had to deal with Paula Jo and her sisters taking on Dee and Ronnie. And it didn’t help that she was still seeing at least three of everything. But anytime she stumbled, anytime she felt like she might drop, strong hands firmly held her. And Mitch never left her side.
Finally, the bears got bored, and their deputies broke it up, sending everybody back to their respective territories. Mitch tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to her car. He dumped her in the back seat. “Hospital?”
Sissy laughed. “Not on your life. We got a party to get to, darlin’.”
Mitch sighed and got into the driver’s seat. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”
 
 
Ronnie Lee danced around Sissy with a bottle of Mexican beer in one hand and a cast on the other. Yeah, she’d busted her wrist with that last hit from Paula Jo’s car, but that only made this win even cooler because she’d done it all with a friggin’ fractured wrist!
How cool am I?
Of course, Shaw was still way pissed at her. “You should have told me,” he’d snarled. “I have a right to know when you’re being an idiot.”
It was sweet in a Cro-Magnon kind of way. But there was no way she would have missed this race. Besides, she loved racing with Sissy and Dee. They kicked major ass together.
Sissy had managed to keep from breaking anything, but her face had gotten bruised up pretty bad from when her car flipped. Still, she didn’t seem to care as she rocked out to AC/DC with the rest of the Smith Pack at the local Smithtown bar.
But what really bothered Ronnie was Mitch. Not because Mitch had said or done anything to concern her. But because he
hadn’t
said or done anything. Even now, he sat at a table with Brendon, one leg up on the table, a bottle of Bud in his hand. He said nothing but kept a vigilant eye on Sissy. And Ronnie didn’t think Sissy had any clue.
She didn’t see it, did she?
Mitch was or
had
already fallen in love with Sissy. A male didn’t get that look on his face unless it had suddenly hit him that with one or two more rollovers, Sissy could have broken her neck. True, shifters were amazingly strong and could bounce back from illnesses and damaged organs that others couldn’t, but they weren’t indestructible. Of course, that’s what made the race that much more fun.
But it was hitting him, wasn’t it? Hitting him that one wrong move, and he could have lost Sissy forever.
And dumb bitch that she was, Sissy was completely oblivious!
“Maybe you should get Mitch home.”
Sissy laughed. “Why? Will his mom worry if he’s not home by curfew?”
Ronnie bared a fang, and Sissy grinned as the music went from AC/DC to Charlie Daniels, which got the whole crowd woo-hooing.
“I’m just saying he doesn’t look like he’s having any fun.” She leaned in closer. “And I think you worried him.”
“He shouldn’t be worried.”
“Why not?”
“Because people with boundaries don’t worry about each other.” Sissy shimmied her ass to the ground before shimmying back up. “His only concern should be whether I’ll be having sex later tonight ... and stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Sissy raised an eyebrow, and Ronnie waved her off. “Okay. Okay.” When Sissy turned around, her arms in the air, Ronnie added, “But you’re an idiot.”
Turning back around, Sissy honestly asked, “What’cha say?”
Ronnie shrugged. “Nothin’.”
 
 
The celebration party had been great, the food spectacular, the music and beer fabulous. To be honest, it was one of the better parties Sissy had experienced in a long time, and what amazed her was that not once had she and her brothers argued.
Although as her muscles began to ache on the way home, Sissy realized she might not be doing any more races. It was time for the “young ’uns” to take over. Hell, she’d started at sixteen—why should her nieces and nephews be any different?
Besides, to her horror, she was simply getting too old for this shit.
Once they were inside the house, Mitch grabbed her hand and led her upstairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To shower. You smell like cheap booze and other cats. It’s bugging me.”
Sissy didn’t argue and instead enjoyed Mitch taking care of her. He got into the shower with her, washed her hair, and properly put on the conditioner, which Sissy could only figure he’d learned that skill from his mother. Once they were both rinsed, Mitch dried her off and went back with her to her bedroom. He didn’t say much during all this, and she didn’t know why. But Sissy wasn’t going to worry about it. Asking questions only led to meaningful conversations, which Sissy often tried to avoid at all costs.
She towel dried her hair and pulled on one of her old T-shirts with nothing else, figuring she wouldn’t need more based on the hard-on Mitch had been sporting since they had gotten into the shower together.
He combed his hair off his face and grabbed a clean pair of sweats from the pile Sissy had tossed on a chair. “I’m going downstairs,” he told her, surprising the hell out of her. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“You’re not staying in here?”
“Nah. Not tonight.”
She watched Mitch pull open her bedroom door, and on a whim, she asked, “Why?”
Sissy’s entire body jumped when Mitch slammed her door so hard she had the feeling it damaged the wall.
“Did you just ask me why?” Mitch turned around, and Sissy saw real anger in his eyes. To be honest, she’d never really seen that before. She’d seen annoyance and impatience. But never real ... rage. Not from Mitch.
“Uh ... yeah.”
“And you have the nerve to ask me that after what I just went through?”
Now Sissy was completely confused. “What did you go through?”
“What did I ... did you ... you can’t be ...” Wow, Mitch not finishing sentences. That couldn’t be good.
Abruptly, he grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her muscles. “Did you really think I’d enjoy watching you almost get killed today?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say—”
“Shut up!”
And Sissy was so startled she did exactly what he told her to.
“First off, I had no idea what the hell you guys were up to. If I had, I would have put a stop to it.”
“You would have—”
“Shut up! Second, do you have any idea what it was like to watch your car flip like that? To know you were trapped inside it and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it?”
Since he didn’t seem to really want answers to any of these questions, Sissy didn’t say anything.
“And for what? For nothing. You risked your neck for absolutely nothing. So in answer to your stupid question, I’m not staying in here tonight because I’m
pissed off!”
He released her, yanked the door open, only to slam it shut again when he walked out.
Sissy had no idea how long she stood there, gawking at that closed door. It could have been minutes or hours. For one of the first times in her life, Sissy was at a loss for words.
But it was the sound of pebbles thrown at her window that snapped her out of her temporary muteness. She pushed open the window and saw Ronnie Lee and Dee standing under what she used to term her “escape tree.”
Throwing on some panties and shorts, Sissy climbed out her window and into the tree right outside it. She maneuvered her way down easily, landing firmly in front of her cousin and friend.
“Let’s raid your aunts’ store. We need pie,” Ronnie said, and Sissy nodded, recognizing the look on Ronnie’s face. Apparently, she wouldn’t be getting any from Brendon either. So yeah, they both needed pie.
 
 
Brendon wasn’t exactly surprised to find Mitch sitting by the lake at three in the morning, staring out over the still water. Of course, he would have much preferred if he wasn’t sitting with a crocodile next to him. It was one thing to enjoy a predatory game of tug with him, but it was another to treat him like the family’s pet dog.
“Hey.” Bren sat down next to Mitch with Ralph on the other side. “Is he really necessary?”
“He’s keeping me company.” Sitting Indian style with his elbow resting on his knee and his chin resting on his raised fist, Mitch sighed. He looked like the fourteen-year-old kid Brendon had met all those years ago when his father had finally gotten around to telling him that he had another son. “Didn’t I mention that before?” his father had asked, looking typically uninterested.
“Sissy went out,” Mitch said on that sigh. “And I don’t blame her. I lost it.”
“Don’t feel bad. I think I made Ronnie cry.”
Mitch glanced at him. “You made my Ronnie cry?”
“Don’t start. I feel bad enough without you adding to the pile-on.” Bren threw his hands up. “
But that woman scared the shit out of me!
”
“Yeah, I’m sensing they don’t get that. The whole time Sissy stared at me like I was speaking Gaelic.”
“They play rough out here in the sticks. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Playing rough I understand. Strapping yourself into a vehicle that could burst into flame or break into a thousand pieces and then ramming others in the same situation is way out of my comfort zone.”
Brendon watched his brother pet Ralph’s head. “Speaking of comfort zones ... are you okay doing that?”
“Not really,” Mitch told him, his free hand still petting Ralph. “But I’m afraid if I stop, he’ll rip my leg off. I can’t remember when he last ate. Did you know that crocs only eat every three days or so?”
Shaking his head, Brendon said, “Mitchell ...”
“What?”
“You’ve gotta tell her, bruh.”
“I don’t think Sissy finds crocs that interesting.”
“Not that, you idiot! That you’re in love with her.”
“Oh. That.” Mitch sighed again. “I’d rather keep petting Ralph.”
“You think she’ll run?” Ronnie Lee had run when she’d found out Brendon loved her. She took off like Flo Jo.
“No. She won’t run. Sissy never runs. She’ll just ignore whatever I said. Ignore what we’ve meant to each other this last year or so, forget about these last few days. Eventually, she’ll ignore me completely.”
“She can’t ignore you.”
Mitch gave a little snort. “How ya figure?”
“Bruh ... you’re sitting here petting a
crocodile
while informing me of its eating habits. How the fuck are you going to let her get away with ignoring you?”
“You have a point. But I can’t love her, bruh.”
“You already do.”
“I know. But I can’t.”
“It’s times like these I want to start hitting you.”
“Nothing has changed, Bren. I’m still testifying. Still going into witness protection. I can’t offer her anything but running and a new name. So I can’t love her. Understand?”
And Brendon hadn’t realized until that moment what an unselfish little prick Mitch Shaw was. Damn him!

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