/>
“Whatever you decide to do, I’ll back you.”
“Good,” I said. This was my pack, not Darren’s, and I’d just proven it.
The hardest call to make was to Trey. All the help I hadn’t been giving him, and now here I was, asking for backup. The nerve of me. I thought about not calling him at all—he didn’t need to be worrying about me. But he was pack, and leaving him out would be the worst thing I’d done yet.
“Kitty?” he said, answering his phone.
“Hey, Trey? Couple of things. First off, you’re right, I haven’t been around like I should be, and I’m sorry. You needed help and I wasn’t there. I’m going to do better. I’d like to have lunch sometime and talk about Sam, but I’m in the middle of a crisis right now. That’s the second thing.”
“Kitty,” he said. “You’re always in the middle of a crisis. But it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I really haven’t forgotten about you, honest.”
“I know. But seriously, it’s taken care of. Everything’s good.”
I furrowed my brow, bemused. “It is? Well, that’s great. I guess.”
“More than great. Sam … she said yes. We’re engaged.” He sounded astonished and giddy.
“Oh my gosh, that’s great. See, you don’t need my help at all.” I might have felt a tiny bit conflicted about that.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You know what turned her around?”
“What?” Maybe I could take notes for the next time this came up. God, I hope this never came up again, not like this. But please let him not say talking to Darren is what helped him.
Trey said, “I gave her a copy of your book. The one about being a werewolf.”
My first book, a memoir called Underneath the Skin, had done pretty well for itself. This was a use for it I hadn’t considered. I hesitated, astonished. “Wow. That’s … that’s kind of crazy. But I’m glad.”
“She said it helped her see my side of it, and helped her explain to me what was bothering her. We must have talked about it all day.” He went on like that, waxing poetic about Sam and how amazing she was, his voice going all dreamy. I heartily approved. I almost forgot about the main reason I’d called.
“She wants to meet you,” he said, proudly.
“And I want to meet her, definitely. But I’ve got another problem right now—Becky and Darren are challenging for leadership of the pack.”
He paused a beat. “What?”
Yeah, exactly. I explained, and he said, simply, “I’ll kill him. Just point me at him.”
That’s my pack … “I’m hoping that won’t be necessary. We’ve got a plan brewing.”
Trey promised to side with me when the time came. We could do this, we really could.
The last person I called was Becky.
Her phone shunted me to voice mail, which I expected. I couldn’t imagine what she thought when my name came up on her caller ID. “Hi, Becky,” I said in a suitably cheerful voice that probably came out sounding saccharine and evil from her perspective. “This is Kitty. Of course it is. I’d really like to talk to you. You know how it is with me and the talking. No pressure, no strings attached, just talking in a well-lit public place. I’ll keep calling until you feel compelled to pick up the phone. Just to warn you.”
I called again ten minutes later. Then ten minutes after that. On the sixth call, she answered.
“What?” she’d said, sounding like a kid who’d gotten caught stealing gum.
“Not over the phone. I want you to look me in the eye when you explain to me why you think screwing me over is a good idea.”
“I don’t have to do that,” she said sharply.
“Nope, you sure don’t. I just want you to ask yourself how Darren’s little coup is likely to succeed when it’s you two standing on one side of the fight and me and the rest of the pack standing on the other.”