No one moves.
Then Wall takes a careful step forward, voice gentle. "Ma'am. Do you need help?"
At the exact same moment, Kayla gasps from behind the bar. "Mama Paws! What happened?"
CHAPTER 3
DEVON
I'M MOVING BEFORE my brain catches up to my body.
The woman looks like she's about to collapse, and I'm not about to let some nice lady who apparently has a nickname straight out of a children's book eat shit on a floor covered in glass shards and spilled alcohol.
I grab her elbow, steering her toward the nearest intact chair. "Okay, sit. Sitting is happening right now."
She tries to wave me off. "Oh, honey, I'm fine—"
"Ma'am, you look like you went three rounds with a blender. We're sitting."
The entire hockey team crowds around like a very large, very concerned wall of muscle and suits. It's like being surrounded by worried refrigerators.
"Ma'am, what happened?" The Giant asks, and his voice is so gentle it's almost funny coming from someone this big.
"Should we call the police?" The Redhead's already got his phone out.
"Or an ambulance?" someone else adds.
"Was it a mugging?"
"Do you need an ambulance?"
Everyone's talking over each other now, voices escalating, and Mama Paws is just sitting there looking increasingly overwhelmed.
I run to grab the first aid kit from behind the bar—thank fuck Kayla showed me where it was during training—and push my way back through the wall of concerned hockey players.
"Guys. Personal space. She needs air, not a huddle."
They back up approximately two inches.
I crouch in front of Mama Paws, opening the kit. "Okay, so. What happened? Did you get mugged?"
She blinks at me, then touches her face like she's just now realizing it hurts. Her fingers come away with a little blood, and she looks at them, confused.
Then she laughs.
Like, actually laughs. A warm, genuine sound that makes absolutely no sense given the circumstances.
"Oh, goodness, no. I gave a litter of kittens a bath," she explains, still chuckling. "They were not thrilled about it."
The entire bar exhales collectively.
"Kittens," The Comedian repeats, like he's trying to process this information. "You got attacked by kittens."
"They're surprisingly strong when they're terrified," Mama Paws says, almost defensively. "Little demons, the lot of them. But they're clean now, so worth it."
I'm dabbing at the scratches with an antiseptic wipe, trying to be gentle. They're not deep, but they look angry as hell. "You need to put something on these. Cats have bacteria in their claws."
"You sound like my husband."
