“Blade isn’t going to bother Slippers. Are you, Blade?” I decided that was my best option since I couldn’t budge the dog, who’d planted his butt on the hardwood and stared with intense focus at the cat.
“Right, Blade?” My voice was unnaturally high.
The cat’s back arched, and she flattened her ears even tighter to her head, her tiny fangs bared. Blade dropped into a crouch, butt up in the air, tail drooping over his back. He bared his much larger fangs.
“I can’t look,” Naomi cried as she buried her face in the couch cushion.
“Slippers. Come here!” Keelie sang, but her voice was tight with fear.
“Blade, you leave that cat alone,” I said, terror pouring off me as I continued to tug at his collar. I’d forgotten all his commands, so he ignored me. I shook my hands in front of me. “Don’t show fear,” I repeated the mantra the trainer had told me. “That will engage his protective instincts. I’m calm. I’m sofreakingcalm right now.” My voice was shrill, and I could barely make out my own words. “We’re calm, Blade. Let’s back away from Keelie’s kitty. Please. Sweet baby Jesus. Back. Away.”
Slippers swiped her paw. “She doesn’t even have claws,” Keelie whimpered. She held her middle, shaking, mouth hanging open.
“Is it over?” Naomi called. She lifted her head. “Fuck. The suspense. Make it stop!” She shoved her head back into the couch and drew another pillow over her head.
Slippers hissed again as she launched herself at Blade.
Keelie screamed. I moaned as I brought my fingertips to my lips.
Blade rolled over while the cat was in midair. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as Slippers nipped and kneaded her way down the dog’s chest. She began to purr as she nuzzled into his fur. Blade wrapped a paw around Slippers, cuddling her closer.
Keelie crumpled to the ground, gaping like a fish. I leaned my butt against the wall as my hands landed on my knees. My heart pounded like I’d sprinted a marathon. Keelie started to laugh-cry, which made me giggle-sob.
“Oh, shit! Is there blood? I barf when there’s blood,” Naomi wailed into the pillow. “It’s awful. I want to look, but then I’ll hurl. Can I look?”
She lifted her head and cracked her eye open, even as her face maintained a look of utter horror. “They’re…playing? You bitches didn’t tell me?”
“We…didn’t know…” I gasped, then hiccupped.
“She loves him. He loves her,” Keelie wailed from the floor. “They’re besties. Just like us.” She crawled over to me on her hands and knees and threw her arms around me. We held each other as we cried. Naomi grabbed her wine glass and downed the entire thing.
“Y’all suck.” She belched behind her hand—quietly, as a lady does. Then she got a refill. “I’m staying here tonight because afterthatshit.” She pointed at the purring cat and loll-mouthed dog. “I need at least a bottle of this nerve-calmer.”
“I married Maxim,” I blurted.
“We know.” Naomi stared for a minute, then gave a tight nod. She filled her glass to the brim and took a long swallow.
“Congrats,” she rasped.
“Great! So excited for you both, P-pour me a glass,” Keelie said. “Ida Jane, too.” She swiped at her wet cheeks. “I can’t stop shaking.”
“Well, the game can’t top that tension,” I said. “Can it?”
* * *
Maxim
The next few weeks passed quickly, thanks to the hectic hockey schedule, getting Ida Jane moved in and officially a Dolov, and fielding more queries from immigration enforcement. The guys started coming over a couple, sometimes three times, each week to eat dinner with us, which was fun. I enjoyed getting to know Mac, Cruz, and the rest of the guys—and their partners—on a deeper level.
Even with the strain of Maurice’s final decision hanging over my head, I was happier than I’d ever been…except for the vivid nightmares I had of Dillon hurting Ida Jane. One from last night had stuck with me all day, leaving me clammy.
It had been so frightening, and so real. I hated every second of it.
Dillon wrapped his hand around Ida Jane’s throat, choking off her ability to scream—and her airflow. “You don’t get to embarrass me, cunt,” Dillon hissed, his nose touching Ida Jane’s. Her nails scraped his skin, and one snapped as it dug into his hand. He tightened his grip, unaware of my approach.
“I tell you what to do. I made you. You werenothingbefore me. Nothing. And you’re nothing now that I don’t want you.”
“Let her go,” I bellowed, trying to reach Ida Jane, but I couldn’t span the distance between us.
