Page 44 of To Kill a Badger (The Honey Badgers Chronicles #6)

Fighting the urge to sneeze from everything invading his poor nose, Keane strode across the open showroom. Racks pushed close to the wall were filled with wedding gowns. Designer ones, he was sure. He doubted any Zhao would buy off-the-rack.

He reached the battling females and, leaning past the hysterical full-humans, he grabbed Nelle around the waist and yanked.

Tragically, she still had her hands dug in deep into her sister’s hair, using that to keep control of her head while she slammed it into the floor.

Which meant that when he pulled one sister up, the other came with her.

Keane stopped lifting for a moment and proceeded to shake Nelle until she finally released her fellow She-badger.

It wasn’t his best move, but it was surprisingly effective.

And way better than trying to pry her hands out of her sister’s hair.

Once Nelle had released her sister and was seconds from turning on Keane, he lifted her up and began to carry her back to the front of the store. When they reached the door, he released her, placing her bare feet on the ground.

She didn’t look at him, but when he opened the door for her, she started to step out.

“You better get that dress repaired and cleaned before the ceremony, you lazy heifer!” her sister screamed after her.

Nelle spun around and started to run back to beat her sister some more, but this time, Keane immediately caught her and put her over his shoulder. Using one arm to keep her pinned there, he walked out and took her back to the SUV.

He unlocked the doors and put her into the passenger side.

He started back to the driver’s door, but stopped long enough to glare at the guy using his phone to film the She-badger’s continuing screams. It took the man less than five seconds to turn off his phone and run away. Keane didn’t even have to say anything.

It’s why he loved being a cat. He never had to say anything. Body language and facial expression did most of the work for him.

He got into the vehicle and started it, but decided to wait until Nelle composed herself. She was, after all, still a very rich girl from Hong Kong with hyper-elite, British-trained manners. He was sure she’d be fine any second now.

* * *

Nelle, beyond any rational emotion, decided the best thing she could do at this moment was crawl into the footwell of the SUV and scream. Just for a few minutes. Just until she felt better. She screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

She didn’t stop until her vocal cords were nothing but raw tendons.

Then, finally, she looked up. She assumed Keane would have been long gone by now, running back to Queens as a tiger.

Anything to get away from the crazy badger in the footwell.

But he was still sitting in the driver’s seat, gazing down at her.

He didn’t appear as angry as she was sure he must feel after witnessing some female screaming her head off out of frustration and rage.

A side of herself she rarely showed anyone.

Calmer, she finally said, “Sorry about that.”

“How we doin’?” he asked, sounding more like a Long Islander by the second. “Feelin’ better?”

He was teasing her. But the way he was doing it . . . it didn’t annoy her as much as she would expect.

“No.”

“So that was your sister? The one with the wedding you don’t want to go to?”

“Yes. That was her.”

“You two seem tight. Call each other every night? Talk about boys? That sort of sisterly bonding thing?”

Nelle closed her eyes and did some deep breathing exercises.

Stevie had taught her this skill after signing up for anger management classes, for some reason.

Usually, they were given to minors due to illegal activity that revealed anger issues.

But apparently, Stevie just wanted to go and taught Nelle all she’d learned one day over cookies and milk.

Cookies and milk Stevie always had after returning from one of her college classes. She’d been about eleven at the time.

Keane kindly remained quiet while she worked on getting herself under control, which she really appreciated. Although when she heard a knock on the SUV, her anger immediately frothed back up.

Lowering the window, Keane nodded at the full-human female waiting for him.

“Hi!” the woman squeaked, like a little mouse that Nelle would toy with before spitting out the remains in someone’s yard. “I wanted to give Gong back her clothes and purse before she left?”

Was that what she was going to do? Or was that what she wanted to know if she should do? It was hard to tell, since she seemed to be one of those women who said everything like a question.

Keane took what was handed to him and reached over to put it all in the back seat.

“It was good seeing you again, Gong?” the full-human either told her or asked.

Although Nelle had no idea who this bitch was or when she’d ever met her before.

“Really glad you’re coming to the wedding?

” Probably good to question, since Nelle would take any excuse not to go.

“And that dress looks great on you? Okay, bye?”

She waved at Nelle and Keane before returning to the store.

Keane closed the window and, after a long moment of him staring off, he asked, “Is it my imagination, or are all your sister’s friends blonde?”

“You’re assuming that after meeting just one of her bridesmaids?”

“No.” He pointed, and the gesture forced her to get out of the wheel well and sit in the passenger seat like a rational person.

Looking straight ahead, she saw all of the bridesmaids standing outside the store, watching the SUV.

Maybe they were worried that Nelle would come back and finish off her sister. She’d like to. It would be deserved!

“Yes,” Nelle admitted to Keane’s questions.

“They’re all blonde. Even the ones not naturally blonde, are blonde.

I think one or two of them dyed their hair that color just so they can keep hanging around my sister and be in her wedding.

That way she can be the only brunette in the wedding party and all eyes will be on her.

Because that’s completely normal behavior.

Because when one gets married, one really wants to make sure that this lifelong commitment of love and caring is all about you and the media blitz you can make of it. ”

Nelle took a deep breath.

“But, as I’ve been told,” she said to Keane, “her wedding is none of my business. I just need to show up, wearing this”—she glanced down at herself—“gaudy gown and pretend I don’t loathe everything about her and this entire fucking event.”

“That dress isn’t gaudy, and that’s what sisters do. At least, that’s what my mom says. And she has sisters. They barely tolerate each other, but they are still very close.”

His hands on the steering wheel, Keane asked, “So do you want me to take you back to Mads’s house? Or—”

“No. We have to get to Jersey.”

“What’s in Jersey?”

“The jet.”

“What jet?”

“The jet taking us to France.”

His head jerked around so he could gawk at her. “France? Why the fuck are we going to France?”

“Where did you think we were going?”

“Not to France! I can’t go to France!”

“You have to come to France.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Charlie said you’re to stay with me. So you’re staying with me. And I’m going to France.”

“I am not going to . . . you can’t . . . this is . . .” He roared, the SUV shaking a little. “ This is insane! Why are we going to France?”

“Because we have to see the Von Sch?fer-Müllers of Hamburg!”

“The who?”

“Were you not listening at all to Rutowski? We discussed this in depth!”

“Of course I wasn’t listening! I was too busy watching my uncle hit on my poor defenseless mother!”

“Your mother is anything but defenseless.” When he glared at her, she said, “Although I am sure she has absolutely no interest in whatever your dirty evil uncle is up to.”

“Look, I understand you have something important to do in France. But I can’t go. I don’t have any clothes; I don’t have my passport—”

“We’re not staying in France. And I already have your passport.”

“Why do you have my passport? How do you have my passport?”

“I have everyone’s passport in case we have to leave the country.”

“How is that okay? What if I have to leave the country without you?”

“When have you ever left this country?” Nelle demanded.

“I’ve gone to Mongolia to meet my family.”

“When you were... ?”

She saw a bit of fang before he replied, “Fourteen.”

“Exactly. You and Mads, always bitching instead of being happy that I take care of everything !”

“Even when we don’t ask you to.”

“Yes. Exactly. Be grateful. I don’t know how half of you would function without me.”

“I’ve happily managed this long!”

“Oh, my God, just drive!”

* * *

They drove in Manhattan traffic for nearly thirty minutes before Keane decided that he was ready to have a conversation with this insane female without pointing out that he was not going to France with her.

He’d get her to the airport and dump her on whatever person was there that handled all this shit for Nelle’s father.

He didn’t know who that was, and he didn’t care.

He just knew he couldn’t keep going round and round with her over such bullshit.

Because he was not going to France! Now or ever!

Letting out a breath, he said, “That wedding dress your sister had on . . .”

“Yes?”

“Is it the one for her actual wedding?”

“One of them, yes.”

“You kind of . . . fucked it up then, didn’t you? Won’t that ruin her wedding or whatever? That should make you happy.”

“She always has a designer make several copies of her dress. Just in case. So, no. I didn’t ruin her wedding. Maybe if I’d torn her face off her skull . . . but even that would heal eventually.”

“She has copies of the dress? But it looks really expensive.”

“Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, give or take.”

Keane quickly realized that Nelle didn’t have her seat belt on when he hit the brakes and she was thrown forward into the dashboard.

“What the fuck?” she snarled.

He should have apologized for that and made sure she was okay, but all he could think to ask was, “How much is that dress? And she has backups in case the first one gets damaged?”

Nelle pushed herself back into the passenger seat, wiped the blood now dripping from her nose, and calmly replied, “Actually, that’s nothing.

Our cousin’s wedding dress from last year was worth several million because of all the diamonds she had on the bodice.

” Nelle shook her head. “But you know what? This tells me everything I need to know. The fact that my sister went so cheap on this dress means she doesn’t care about this dude. ”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Not kidding at all.” And she wasn’t. He could tell by her voice. She was still too angry to be joking or teasing.

“And the exact copy of that dress is another . . .”

“Actually, she has three copies of all her wedding-day dresses. At least she had three for her ceremony dress. Now she has two, unless they can get the blood out.”

“So all together, more than a million in wedding dresses?”

“Ohhhh, much more than that.”

“How much more?”

Someone came to the driver’s side window and banged on the roof, most likely wanting him to move his car, since he was still sitting in the middle of traffic.

“Move your fucking—”

Keane roared once at the man outside his window, who squeaked and ran away.

“And why does she need so many dresses?” he asked, finally moving again with traffic.

“Well, there’s a dress for the ceremony, a dress for the reception, a dress for the dinner, and a dress for the dancing afterward.

Then, of course, there’s the dress for when she leaves the wedding for her honeymoon.

She’d have backup for each of those and some extras looks from the same designer in case she has a mood change and wants to wear something different from what she’d planned for that day—or, of course, I slit her throat during the dinner, getting blood everywhere, which would force her to grab something that’s not covered in an arterial spray . . .”

“And that’s . . . how much?”

“Several million.”

“Just for dresses?” he softly asked.

“Just for dresses.”

“Okay.”

They turned a corner and kept going.

“That seems excessive,” he told her.

“For most of humanity, of course it does. But for my sister . . .”

“I see.”

She was quiet a moment, but he saw her finally give a little smile before she told him, “And just so you know, I plan on my wedding being a much more low-key affair. One dress. Just friends. Probably not a blonde in sight except Mads.”

“Okay, but why are you telling me this?”

“In case it comes up at our wedding.”

Keane hit the brakes again, but this time, Nelle was buckled in.

Ignoring the horns blasting and the cursing from other drivers, he asked, “Feeling better, Nelle?”

Suddenly laughing, she admitted, “I am!”