Hard As You Can

by Laura Kaye

  Following Beckett’s gaze, Shane found Easy, obviously talking to someone at the bar, but the guy was so big Shane couldn’t see around him. Not that Shane had a lot of room to talk after cutting out to check on Crystal, but they didn’t really have time to chat up the clientele. And then Easy turned and guided someone through the crowd.

  Not just anyone. Jenna.

  “Oh, fuck a duck,” Shane said under his breath, his scalp prickling. What the hell was she doing here when Crystal had told her explicitly to stay away? Had she actually come to confront Bruno? And, Jesus, the thought of her hanging out alone in a strip club known to traffic young, vulnerable women made Shane want to hurl.

  “Charlie Mike,” Marz said, the call sign telling them all to continue mission and basically stay chill. And roger that, because they had to get her ass out of here before she had a chance to confront Bruno or Crystal saw her and freaked out. Both had a higher-than-average likelihood of making tempers and other things go kaboom.

  Arm around her shoulder, Easy gave a hopeful motherfucker looming behind Jenna a withering glare and guided her toward their table with all the ease in the world. She went along well enough, but questions and skepticism shone brightly in her blue eyes.

  Shane got his first good look at Crystal’s younger sister, at least his first look at her conscious. Wearing black jeans, black Chucks, and an old concert T-shirt gave her a college-grunge-meets-girl-next-door vibe that was drawing attention because it was clearly way the hell out of place for Confessions. And damn if she wasn’t pretty close to a carbon copy of Crystal, except shorter, curvier, and with darker red hair.

  “Who’s your friend, E?” Shane said with a false enthusiasm in his voice as he rejoined the group.

  “This is Jenna,” Easy said as he offered her his seat. She slipped into it, her expression part curiosity and part recognition that she was maybe in over her head. “She’s just waiting to see her sister, who works here.” Gone was the subdued version of Edward Cantrell they’d seen the past few days. In his place was a totally engaged and deceptively calm man Shane knew was ready to pounce on the first thing that made a wrong step in his—or rather, her—direction.

  And Shane approved. Because beyond the trafficking, they didn’t know the whole universe of what Crystal thought made this place unsafe for Jenna. So high alert was the right way to play it.

  “I see.” Shane reached his hand across the table. “I’m Shane McCallan, darlin’. Nice to meet you.” Again.

  She returned the shake and gave him a weak smile. “Hi. I’m Jenna,” she said, staring at Shane like she was trying to place him.

  “Well, hell. While we’re at it, I’m Marz,” he said, extending his hand, too. “And this big ugly lug is Beckett.”

  “Ignore him,” Beckett said with a small wave. “His jokes aren’t as funny as his looks.”

  For a long moment Jenna traded looks with each of them. “Edward said you all were Crystal’s friends?” she asked, her gaze returning to Shane. “But have we met before?”

  “We’ve met,” Shane said, as the girl frowned. And then he decided to just lay it out there, because all the ways her presence could make this situation go bad were eating at his insides. “But you were a little out of it.” Gripping his cowboy hat, Shane continued. “I’m gonna cut right through the crap if that’s okay with you, Jenna. Because I think you know where you’re sitting right now isn’t the safest place and that your sister would be less than happy to see you out here.”

  Jenna paled. “She told you about the fight?”

  Perfect opening, Shane thought. “Uh, yeah. And we said we’d look out for you in case you really showed up.”

  Jenna frowned, and it was an expression filled with equal parts uncomfortable regret and restrained anger. “Well, I wasn’t—” Sucking in a breath, Jenna blanched. The curtains flared, and Bruno surged through.

  Shane tamped down his body’s demands for vengeance when panic flashed across Jenna’s face. So she wasn’t here to confront him after all? Because she did not look like someone ready to pick a fight right now. Then what could be so important that she couldn’t wait to talk to Crystal until she returned home?

  “Put your hair up under this,” Easy said, handing her his ball cap.

  “No, E,” Shane said, passing his cowboy hat across the table. “They’ll make you.”

  Jenna whipped her hair into a ponytail and stuffed it under the hat. Easy tilted the brim lower over her face.

  “Gentlemen, I’d say we are damn close to overstaying our welcome,” Beckett said in a low voice Shane just made out over the music. Agreed murmurs went around the table.

  They rose. And the manager guy appeared out of thin air. “Mr. Morrison?” he said, using the fake name Derek had provided on the credit card. “You’re all set for Friday night. Please just call by five o’clock on Thursday with a head count.”

  “You got it.” Marz shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for showing us a good time tonight.”

  The man smiled, offered good-byes to the rest of the group, and disappeared as quickly as he’d come. Shane blew out a long breath. Thirty feet separated them from the front door. They started through the crowd in the bar area.

  Making sure Marz was still behind him, Shane glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Crystal return to the club floor. From his position bringing up the rear, Marz noticed, too.

  Crystal gaped as her eyes shifted from Shane to the woman walking in front of him. Maybe it was the clothes, or the purse, or a lifetime of living with and knowing someone, but Crystal clearly knew who was walking beneath Shane’s hat.

  Shane could almost feel Crystal’s desperate urge to bolt across the room and pull her sister into her arms, and he realized that Crystal really had no way of knowing what was going on. Hell, from where she stood, it probably looked damn suspicious.

  Just then, Marz put a finger to his lips and, when Crystal’s gaze latched onto the movement, Marz put his thumb to his ear and his pinkie to his mouth, mimicking a phone.

  Giving a single small nod, Crystal forced her expression into something a lot more casual. And it was a good thing she did. Because the next moment, Bruiser made a return trip from the bar and marched right up to her.

  Every muscle in Shane’s body tensed as Bruno’s hands landed on her skin.

  “It’s cool, McCallan. Keep moving,” Marz said with a hand on his back. And then they cleared the door and stepped into the cool of the nighttime air.

  “Keep walking,” Shane said from Jenna’s left side, echoing Marz’s words to him. Easy flanked her on the right. What a fubar of a night. From being forced to sit on his hands and watch Crystal’s distress when Bruno kissed her to the surprise of Jenna’s appearance at the club, Shane was on his last nerve.

  “But my car’s over there,” Jenna said, pointing down the street.

  “What kind is it?” Shane asked, guiding her toward the sidewalk heading in the opposition direction.

  “What?” Tucking a loose strand of hair back under the cowboy hat, Jenna frowned.

  “What kind?”

  Jenna slowed just as they passed a fence that blocked their view of the club. “Why—”

  Shane stepped in front of the woman and tipped the cowboy hat back enough to make eye-to-eye. “Look, I’d rather not let you out of my sight until you’re safe and sound at home. If there’s one thing I know about your sister with complete and utter certainty, it’s how much you mean to her. So I’d really rather that nothing happened to you on my watch, and that begins with getting you the hell away from here.”

  Crossing her arms, Jenna’s glare softened but remained. “I don’t know you. So I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Scanning the street around their position, Shane crossed his arms, not willing to budge on his position. “Well, I know you, Jenna. I know you have epilepsy and your seizures are worsening. I know you had a grand mal seizure less than twenty-four hours ago and that you shouldn’t be running around dange
rous sections of town by yourself. I know you live in the East Side Apartments with your sister and that your parents are gone. And I know your sister’s in trouble, and you’re worried about her.” As he spoke, Shane watched as Jenna’s expressions morphed from rebellious to uncertain. “I’m worried about her, too. And that puts us on the same side. So if you’ll let me take you home so I can assure your sister you’re safe again, I would very much appreciate it.”

  “Uh . . .” She glanced around the group, her gaze landing last on Easy beside her. He nodded.

  “Now, please call your sister,” Shane said, hoping Crystal had made her way to her cell. “She saw us leave, and Marz gestured to her that we’d call.” Shane had really been hoping to spare Crystal the knowledge that Jenna had stepped foot in that hellhole, especially given the risks Crystal had taken earlier in the day to see him and pass on information about the meeting. She had enough on her plate.

  “Oh, God, she saw me?” Jenna asked, her eyes going wide.

  “She did, but she was cool,” Shane said, finding yet another reason to admire Crystal. Tonight, she’d had no warning and no preparation that she’d see him on her workplace turf, where he knew his presence alarmed her given his role in Charlie’s rescue. Crystal didn’t know much about Shane, so she had no reason to believe him especially capable of flying under Church’s radar. And yet, with all that, she’d been cool and sweet as lemonade on a hot, summer day.

  Add all that to Shane’s pushing her too far earlier, Bruno’s aggressive kiss, and Shane’s inviting himself into her dressing room, and she’d have been well within her rights to totally freak out by now. But she hadn’t. Of course she hadn’t. Because everything Shane knew about Crystal so far pointed to the fact that she was tough as fucking nails.

  And as he stood there staring down her younger sister, it was plain to see that Jenna was cut from the same cloth.

  “Jenna, call her,” Shane said, gentling his tone. “I don’t want her to worry because I don’t think it’s good for her to be at all off her game when she’s in there. Do you?”

  Recognition flashed through Jenna’s blue gaze. She fished her cell from her small purse and pressed a series of buttons. After what seemed an inordinately long time, Jenna said, “Hey. It’s me.” Pause. Some of the tension drained from Shane’s muscles, knowing hearing Jenna’s voice would likely ease Crystal’s concerns. A car went by on the street behind them and Shane did another one-eighty scan of their position. Beckett was doing the same thing. “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Jenna continued. Pause. “I just . . . I . . . I had to say I was sorry,” she said, her voice suddenly tight and strained with sadness. She batted at an eye, and her gaze flickered up to Shane. “I didn’t mean it,” she almost whispered, and Shane was glad for the apology for Crystal’s sake. He just wished Jenna had waited to deliver it in person—at home. Jenna’s gaze whipped back to Shane. “I’m with them. They said they’re your friends and want to take me home.” With an arched brow, Jenna offered him her phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

  With a prayer that this jacked-up night didn’t further damage Crystal’s trust in him, Shane placed the cell to his ear. “Crystal.”

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “Long story, but if it’s okay with you, rather than tell it right now I’d like to escort your sister back to your apartment.”

  “Yes, please. Oh, my God, thank you. She has to get out of here.” A hint of panic was clear in Crystal’s voice. “Will I see you . . . I mean, will you stay there with her?” she asked.

  Shane glanced at his watch, and twin reactions coursed through him. A soul-deep satisfaction that she’d even asked—a hell of an improvement from where they’d stood this afternoon. And white-hot regret, because he had to return to Hard Ink in less than an hour for Charlie’s surgery. “I can’t. I have something I have to do in a little while. But why do you ask? Do you think she needs protecting?”

  “No. I don’t know. I’m just a little rattled.”

  Man, but the unusual fragility in her voice just slayed him. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I can leave someone . . .” He surveyed the group.

  “I’ll stay,” Easy said. “If that’s okay with Jenna.” She stared at the guy for a long moment, then gave a small shrug. “Don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m there.”

  Shane gave Easy a thumbs-up. “I’ll leave a good friend named Edward. He’ll keep an eye out ’til you get home.”

  “But that won’t be until after two,” she said.

  Shane turned away and paced a few steps along the cracked sidewalk. “I told you I’d help you and Jenna. That offer didn’t come with an expiration date or office hours. Understand?”

  She blew out a long breath. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get your head screwed back on straight and keep your wits about you. Everything’s fine here, okay?”

  “Okay. And Shane? I . . . uh . . . just, thank you.” The connection went dead.

  Handing the phone back to Jenna, Shane asked, “You with me?” Jenna nodded, more cooperative now. But Shane couldn’t fault her for fighting back. Hell, he had half a mind to lecture her for walking out the door with a group of strangers in the first place. But that would be all kinds of unfair, wouldn’t it? “Okay, then. Would you be comfortable riding with us, and Easy will follow in your car, or would you rather I ride with you to your place, and they’ll follow?”

  She glanced at the group of men surrounding her. “Uh, I guess—”

  “We’ve got some activity out front of the club,” Beckett said in a low voice.

  “Pick, Jenna. Or I’ll choose for you. Because either way, I’m not leaving your side until I know you’re locked inside that apartment.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’ll ride in your car, I guess,” she said, then gave the make, model, and location of her vehicle. Fishing in her purse, she located her key ring and handed it off to Easy.

  Shane nodded at Easy. “Remember that location is under some type of surveillance, E.”

  He nodded. “Roger that. I’ll make like Casper.”

  Jenna watched Easy walk away and turned a glare on Shane. “You’re kinda bossy. You know that?” she said.

  Shane barked out a laugh as they set off for Beckett’s SUV, parked just down the street. He threw Jenna a smile and winked. “I can totally live with that.”

  Chapter 13

  Back at Hard Ink, Shane hopped out of Beckett’s SUV, with Charlie’s surgery filling his mind. For the next few hours, nothing else mattered. Not Church or Merritt or the team or himself. Not even Crystal.

  Because tonight was do-or-die.

  Gravel crunching beneath his boots, Shane crossed the parking lot to the back door of Hard Ink, Beckett and Marz right behind him. Easy had stayed back to keep watch over the women’s apartment until Crystal got home from work, giving Shane a little peace of mind that everything was squared away there. At least for now.

  The three of them humped it up the steps, and Shane broke left for the Rixeys’ apartment.

  A hand landed on Shane’s shoulder, and he paused at the door.

  “You saved me. You can save him. Don’t doubt it,” Marz said, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression.

  Eyes narrowed and brows slashed downward, Beckett’s discomfort with any talk of Marz’s injuries was clear. But that didn’t keep him from offering his hand and saying, “Same goes for me. You got this.”

  Shane shook both men’s hands and nodded. “No prize for second place this time,” he said.

  “You won’t need it. Now go take a few minutes to clear your head before Murphy gets here,” Marz said.

  Before Murphy gets here . . . and shit gets real. “Roger that.” Shane turned and pushed through the door. Difference between the medic work he’d done in the field and what they were doing tonight? He’d never had time to prepare for a crisis in the field. No such thing as time to psych yourself up—or psyc
h yourself out. One minute it would be situation normal, the next everything would go to shit, and you dealt because there was no other choice. Men’s lives were on the line, the bullets were flying, and the clock was ticking.

  The living room and kitchen were quiet and dim, but light spilled out from Charlie’s room down the hall. Tossing his hat on the couch, Shane headed straight there and found Becca, Nick, and Jeremy all standing vigil at Charlie’s bedside. Not to mention Eileen, who’d made a black furball of herself at the foot of the mattress.

  They exchanged hushed greetings as he entered. Shane crouched next to Becca, sitting by the bed. With his fever red cheeks and sweat-dampened hair, Charlie appeared much the same as before. “How’s he doing?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “No change,” she said, already wearing a set of scrubs and her game face. There wasn’t going to be any room for Becca the sister during the procedure. But for Becca the nurse? Damn straight. They needed her there, and they needed her to be rock solid. From the look of resolve on her face and in her eyes, Shane needn’t have worried.

  “We’re going to take care of him, you hear?” Shane refused to entertain any other outcome. Wasn’t in his nature. Besides, you couldn’t look at your own hands and believe them capable of salvation without a healthy dose of confidence, and not a little arrogance, too. He didn’t look at it as playing God, but he didn’t question for one minute that there was something divine, something miraculous in the ability to restart a beating heart, restore a man to consciousness, or bring someone back from the edge of eternity.

  Becca nodded and gave a small smile. “Murphy should be here soon.”

  “Okay,” Shane said, rising. Nick tilted his head toward the hall, and Shane followed him out.

  “How’d it go?” Nick asked in a low voice.

  “We’ve got eyes and ears on the inside now,” Shane said. “Marz planted bugs in the ductwork which he thinks will pick up sound from at least several offices away and cracked the wireless frequency on some of the security cameras, too. He’ll fill you in on all the details.”