“They did?”
“Oh please. Don’t look surprised.” She shouldn’t be talking bad about the dead, but Belinda had been nearly as bad as Alissa with her vanity. “Neither you nor Quince would give those women the time of day. Then all of a sudden, Lex is here with his bullies, and the Roberto women happen to be drawn to power. My bet is Belinda tried tangling with the wrong cat and unfortunately paid for it. Then to screw with you and Quince, she lied about what happened.
“Honestly, until Lex arrived, had you ever had reason to suspect Quince of anything that heinous?”
“Well, no.” He frowned. “But I saw Belinda… She was so hurt, Joy.” Miles looked pained.
“I hate to say it, but you’re a bigger sucker than I’d thought.” Time for some tough love, big brother. “Those felines were always trying to scam you. I knew you’d never fall for them, but I can’t believe you had no idea what a backstabbing bunch of witches they were. Are.”
“I know there are issues among the females. Women in groups tend to go for the jugular.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Most of the women in the pride actually get along. We’re not all horny teenagers and desperate singles trying to catch a man. A solid ten percent are bitchy shrews. And guess what ten percent Alissa and her dead cousin belong to?” She felt badly for what had happened to Belinda, but that was no excuse for dragging Quince down with her.
Miles looked undecided, a first for her brother. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t believe a woman would lie about something like that.”
“Idiot. Women lie about shit all the time. About being pregnant, about their ages, weights, finances. We’re human—well, kind of. You know what I mean. The felines around here might be prettier and stronger than human women, but we have the same flaws. God, get your head out of your ass and think about it. Quince was your best friend nearly your entire life. So you got busy with business, and he started doing more for the pride the last few years. You know Quince. Would you really take Alissa’s word over his on something like this?”
Miles seemed troubled. He looked away from her and glanced back at her portfolio. “I want you to add the cover up and the matching skirts to the order as well.”
She gripped her hair and pulled on it so she wouldn’t wrap her fingers around Miles’s thick neck. “Did you hear anything I said?” Don’t you trust me to know the man I’m with?
“I don’t doubt all of Miami Beach heard you,” he snapped. “I don’t have time to dwell on the past. Just on the now. I have business matters to straighten out here. Since Lex is no longer a concern, I can take the time to reestablish our presence in the boutiques. I have people to see, things to do—”
“Argh. You are such an asshole.”
“Joy.” His disapproval made her want to smack him.
“Stop avoiding the fact that you’re wrong about him. And about me.”
“If this is so you can keep seeing him with my permission, I—”
“Fuck your permission. This is about making the pride strong again. Lex’s followers aren’t exactly gone, you know. And I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t have a brain. You’re my older brother, not my father. I love you, Miles, but you’re pissing me the hell off.” That felt so good to finally say. “Either you trust me to make my own decisions or you don’t. Which is it?”
He opened his mouth to retort when a loud knock was followed by the door crashing inward.
Miles immediately put himself between Joy and the threat. To her astonishment, Quince stood inside the door, bloodied and bruised, his shirt in tatters.
“I have something to say to you,” he growled at Miles. To her he said offhandedly, “Oh hey, baby.”
She saw her brother stiffen and sighed. “Miles, would you relax, already?”
“Why don’t you say what you came to say?” her brother asked Quince, ignoring her.
“How about this? Fuck off.” Quince stepped up to her brother and punched him in the jaw with such speed and force that her brother toppled and would have fallen like a sack of potatoes if Quince hadn’t caught him. He lowered him gently to the floor while she watched, trying to collect her thoughts.
“What was that for?” Joy stared from her unconscious brother to Quince. “I was making slow progress with him about you. But now it’s all shot to hell. Great going, bonehead.” She poked him in the chest and tried not to feel sorry for him when he flinched. He really did look like death warmed over.
“Come on. I need to talk to you. I’ll leave him a note so he won’t worry.” Quince hurried to her drawing table, grabbed a pen and paper, and drafted a message. Then he folded it and put in on Miles’s chest.
Joy bent down to read it, but before she could, Quince yanked her with him and hauled ass out the door.
She glanced over her shoulder. “But Miles—”
“Will be fine. Trust me. Dickhead has a forehead like granite.”
“Would you quit tugging me?” She glared at him, worried at the over-bright glare in his eyes. She put her hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Healing is all.” He grimaced when she dragged her hand away and accidentally grazed his swollen cheekbone. He stuffed her in his SUV and then jumped behind the wheel. After starting up the vehicle, he pulled away from the parking lot just as her brother ran out of the building clutching the crumpled note in his hand.
“You bastard,” Miles roared.
“What the heck did you write down?” she asked, staring at her brother.
Quince whipped the SUV around and tore down the street. “We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. I need your help to fix our problems in the pride.”
“You’re asking me?” Flattered he thought she could help—such a change from her brother who apparently knew everything—she nevertheless didn’t trust the fever in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for a conversation?”
“Honey, I’m up for a healing blowjob to make me feel better. I’m definitely up for some conversation.”
She blushed but grinned at him. “Then speak freak, and speak freely.”
Chapter Eight
“I don’t like it.” Joy scowled at the big baby lying helplessly in his king-size bed, his arms stretched out on either side of him as she treated his wounds.
“It’s the perfect solution.”
“No, it’s not,” argued Jace from the doorway to Quince’s bedroom. Ellis followed him inside, with Rain, Dana and Willow not far behind.
Quince’s council. Except for Oliver. That weasel.
“I still can’t believe Oliver turned on you. Man, I’m going to have a serious talking to him when I see him again.” Joy frowned down at Quince, who was looking none too happy at his council.
“Hey, I’m wounded. Why don’t you guys take a break for a while?” He nodded to the door.
“No.” Ellis sat in a chair while the others alternately stood or sat on the bed with them.
“This is like a big sleepover,” Willow said with a grin.
Only the fact that the pretty cat had never slept with Quince kept her free from Joy’s territorial feline. The way Ellis eyed Willow told Joy she didn’t have to worry about Willow being free forever. But Dana…
Joy shook off her cat’s low growl of warning and concentrated on Quince’s idiocy. “As I was saying, offering the pride to the winner of a death match—knowing your opponent will lie, cheat and steal to win—is dumber than dirt.”