by Laura Kaye
Sara lifted her eyebrows. “That sounds promising.”
Shane nearly growled. Sexy, tormenting woman. “Just you wait.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Do you want to come meet everyone or hang inside? Up to you.” A sound like thunder rumbled around the building.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, slipping her hand in his. And, aw, damn. It was a small gesture, but her initiative in showing him affection was proof positive how far they’d come in the past week. Couple more hours, and they’d have Jenna back, then nothing would stand in their way.
As they left the gym, the sound of thunder grew louder, and Shane realized it was the rumble of a shit ton of motorcycles as they entered Hard Ink’s parking lot. The sound was almost deafening when they stepped out the door.
Holding Sara close, Shane scanned the lot, almost packed to capacity now. Everywhere he looked, he saw men in cutoff denim jackets with the Raven Riders patch on the back. They hung their helmets on their handlebars and congregated behind Ike and a couple other obvious leaders in the center.
Sara stepped closer to Shane’s side, her arm coming around his back, and Shane was only too happy to return the gesture by pulling her close and making it damn clear that she was off-limits. Nick was all but draped around Becca, too, so at least he wasn’t alone in the feeling.
Hands were shook, introductions were made, and thanks were given as the two groups made nice.
Time and again, Shane heard one of the Ravens express the sentiment that any enemy of the Churchmen was a friend of theirs, so he didn’t have any questions about the loyalty of their new allies. At least, as long as they were paid.
Shane’s question had more to do with how twenty-eight guys used to operating loud and visible were going to mesh with the team’s general covert approach. Time would tell.
“All right,” Nick said to Ike, who they’d learned was a General Board member in the club, and Dare Kenyon, the club’s president. Kenyon was tall and lanky, with brown hair nearly to his shoulders. Seemed friendly enough. They all did, so far. “Can we get everyone to come inside so we can get some plans hammered out?”
“Come on, sweetness,” Shane said against Sara’s ear, earning a smile.
When he’d offered them the space earlier in the day, Jeremy hadn’t been lying. This room on the far side of the Hard Ink building was just a big open rectangle unfinished all the way around. Looked like Jeremy had demolished whatever had been in here down to the studs. But at least there was plenty of room for all the men to lean against the wall or sit on one of the sawhorses scattered around. Shane and Sara made their way toward the front with the rest of his team.
It took a few minutes to get everyone in and quieted, but once they did, Nick offered some words of welcome and thanks to Ike, the president, and the club in general. And then Marz took over briefing everyone on the nature of the missions at both locations. At the parking garage near the football stadium, the identification of the players in the trade and possible interception of the cargo—whatever it was. The latter was particularly important to the Ravens. God knew Shane wasn’t adverse to interfering with the Churchmen’s cash flow, and neither was the rest of the team. At Confessions, though, the mission involved a rescue and was, in Shane’s mind, the far more important of the two.
As the conversation turned to Jenna and Confessions, Shane checked in with Sara. “You okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah. Be better when all this is over and Jenna’s back.” She laid her head against him.
In the planning, the Ravens proved themselves equal partners in strategizing each of the locations. Within an hour, the men had firmed up the plans and been divided into two teams—a group of twelve for the part inside Confessions, another four on the outside of the club just in case, and the remaining eighteen at the parking garage. The Hard Ink guys would split between the two. Those Ravens heading to Confessions left their jackets stacked in the corner for Jeremy’s safekeeping. They wouldn’t be able to get in the door with them on.
Back at Hard Ink, Charlie and Jeremy would be running the communications and monitoring the surveillance at the club that they’d just installed at the garage. So at least his teammates would know what was going on at both locations. It was déjà vu of the night they’d rescued Charlie all over again.
After everything was set, the Ravens filed out of the room, and within minutes, the lot outside roared to life.
When just Ike and Dare remained inside with the team, they offered a final recommendation. “You know,” Kenyon said to Nick, “Church is going to consider this a full-on assault no matter what you do. So from one man to another, I strongly suggest you consider taking him down once and for all.”
“Meaning?” Nick said, eyes thoughtful and intense.
“Church, his Apostles, Confessions. As much of it as you can.” Kenyon and Ike traded glances, and Ike nodded, too.
The justice and righteousness of that resonated way down deep in Shane’s gut. Tempting as it was, though, the team couldn’t give into full-scale vigilantism without becoming just like that which they were fighting against, could they?
Chapter 23
Shane watched as A-Team—the larger team headed for the garage delivery—rolled out of Hard Ink’s lot, forming a long stream of bikes following Beckett’s SUV and the Ravens’ box truck full of barricades to force traffic in the garage where they wanted it to go. With Beckett was Nick and Miguel. The whole team was leaving early to set up the barriers and get well hidden before the Churchmen ever arrived.
The remaining team had a good ninety minutes before they could set out for Confessions. And that gave Shane more than enough time to do something he’d been itching to do. Hand in hand, he led Sara up to his bedroom and closed the door.
And then he pushed Sara up against it, his hips against hers, his hand on the door beside her head. “Sorry, darlin’. I just needed a little time with you before I left.”
Sara shook her head, a small, sexy smile on her face. “Don’t even think about apologizing for telling me what you want,” she said, echoing his words from the previous night.
Shane threw his head back and laughed, but the humor died in his throat as she stole the opportunity to flick her tongue over his Adam’s apple and lick up to his jaw.
“You don’t play fair,” Shane said, bringing his gaze back to hers.
Still smiling, Sara wrapped her arms around Shane’s neck and lifted her legs around his waist. She arched a brow.
Groaning, Shane’s hands went to Sara’s delicious ass, holding her up against the door. “You’re killing me, sweetness. I want in you so damn bad.” He kissed her deep, plundering her mouth with his tongue. He held back a little, not giving in to the need to ravage her, but Sara’s moans and whimpers communicated only pleasure.
“Can you please be inside me right now?” she asked.
He froze long enough to assess her sincerity, and then her jeans and panties were gone. “How?” Shane said, almost frenzied, as he grabbed a condom and pushed his jeans to his knees.
Sara eyed the door. “I’d like to try that,” she said, nodding toward where they’d just been standing. “Just please go slow at first?”
“Anything you want, Sara. Always.” He rolled on the condom and easily hiked her back up around his waist, her heat already washing over his cock. Gently, he pressed her up against the door. “I love you, Sar. Don’t let me hurt you. I’m a little wound up over you right now, but just say the word, and I’ll stop.”
“Okay,” Sara said. “I trust you.” And then her center found the head of his cock and she lowered herself down.
“Oh, fuuck,” Shane groaned, as her tight, wet heat engulfed him. “Okay?” he managed.
“More than,” she said, smiling.
Shane started moving then. Really, he had no choice in the matter. Her body felt too good, he loved her too much, and his veins were flooded with pre-mission adrenaline. The combination had his hips swinging and his hands grinding her ass do
wn for each upward thrust. Sara’s gasps were the sexiest fucking thing, so free and full of passion.
“All right, sweetness?” Shane asked.
By way of answering, Sara kissed him. Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled them tight and sucked on his tongue so hard Shane saw stars. The shift in position escalated the wildness of her moans.
All of a sudden, Sara’s nails sank into Shane’s shoulders and her body tightened around him—her arms, her legs, her sweet pussy. Sara unleashed a strangled moan into their kisses that Shane swallowed greedily. And then her orgasm nearly took Shane to his knees as her body clenched his cock again and again.
Shane’s own orgasm barreled down on him like an out-of-control freight train and nailed him in the back, forcing Shane deep, deep, deeper as he spilled himself into Sara’s sweet body, and she swallowed his moans. When it was over, Shane stumbled backward, carrying Sara until he could sit on the edge of the bed. Under her scant weight, his thighs shook. He pulled away from the kissing and heaved a deep breath.
Tears pooled in Sara’s eyes.
Oh, no. Shane’s gut crashed to the floor. “Oh, God, sweetness. What’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” Shane ran his hands gently over her back. “I was too rough, wasn’t I? I’m so fucking so—”
“No,” she said in a tight voice. “Not at all,” she managed. “Scared for you tonight. Scared for Jenna,” she said, the tears flowing now. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”
Shane’s heart restarted again and he heaved another deep breath as he gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes. “You won’t, Sara. I’ll be home tonight, and I’ll have Jenna with me.”
Emotions flitted over her beautiful face. Finally, she nodded. “I know, you’re right.” She grasped his face in her hands and kissed his lips sweetly but firmly. “I believe in you, Shane McCallan.”
Kissing her one more time, he helped her off his lap so he could dispose of the condom. And it hit Shane exactly what to do. “Sit with me a minute,” he said, patting the mattress beside him. As she did, he pulled up his pants and reached into his pocket, finding Molly’s necklace with his fingers. He laid the butterfly in his hand so she could see it. “For the past sixteen years,” he said, looking into her eyes, “this necklace has been my most important possession. I never go anywhere without it, and I would never leave it behind without knowing I could have it back again.” Grasping Sara’s hand, he slowly dropped the pendant and chain into her palm. “So you hold on to this for me. That way, you know I’ll have to come back.”
Eyes wide, Sara shook her head. “I can’t . . .”
He closed her fingers around the necklace. “I want you to have it. And every time your faith threatens to fail, you look at that and know I’ll be back. Because I love you.”
As Sara threw her arms around him and told him she loved him, too, Shane offered a silent promise to succeed where he’d failed before. Sixteen years ago, he’d lost his own little sister, but tonight, he wouldn’t lose Sara’s.
FORTY MINUTES LATER, B-Team stood on the floor of Confessions, waiting to be escorted to their party room for Marz’s fake bachelor party. It was like the night they’d rescued Charlie—crowded, loud, just bordering on rowdy. Despite the crowd, Shane felt exposed as hell standing in the bar, and he was glad when Darnell finally found and invited them to follow him beyond the curtain.
Shane, Marz, Easy, and nine of the Ravens made their way back down the hall, laughing, joking, drinking beer. Shane had emphasized they act like regular guys enjoying a night out at a strip club. So far, they were passing with flying colors.
In their private room, the party got under way with food, music, and dancing girls on the small central stage. As the groom, Marz was trapped front and center, and kept up enough antics—like dancing with the girls, loudly joking with the guys, and offering hilarious editorial commentary regarding the porn playing on the big screen—to make sure all attention remained on him.
Shane and Easy leaned against the bar near the door. From which it was a very short trip down the hall, around a small corner, and down the steps into the basement.
A few minutes after they arrived, Jeremy’s voice came through Shane’s earpiece. “B-Team Leader, this is Eileen,” he said, using the joking code name they’d come up with for Charlie’s rescue—they avoided real names on the coms as much as possible. “You know who was a half hour late getting to the other location. Just arrived. The other people were already there, and A-Team Leader took pictures of them all.”
“Roger,” Shane said, glad for the confirmation Bruno was out of the building. Then he looked to Easy. “I’ll run to the bathroom, and we’ll be set,” he said, referring to the key Howie was supposed to have left. Shane slipped inside, secured the door, and crouched to look beneath the sink. Nothing.
He checked every other possible hiding place in the room. Still, nothing.
Caution settled on Shane’s shoulders like a warm blanket. He returned to Easy’s side. “Dead end,” he said in a low voice.
“Shit,” Easy said. “Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. Let’s do it.”
Nodding, Shane spoke into the coms. “Take down the cameras.”
“Doing it now,” Jeremy said. “Stand by.” Marz’s identification of the wireless frequencies that many of the Confessions security cameras operated on gave him the power to interfere with the signal and essentially shut them down. Marz had shown Charlie what to do before they’d left. “Good to go,” Jeremy said.
“Now’s as good a time as any,” Easy said, off coms. “I’d like to get Jenna back sooner than later.”
Shane studied the intense expression on the man’s face but didn’t have time to analyze whether more was going on for Easy than met the eye. Anyway, right now, it wasn’t the most important thing.
“Let’s move,” Shane said.
Out the door. Down a thankfully clear hallway. Shane cleared the corner, waving Easy around. A whole lotta déjà vu washed over Shane as he looked into the dimness of the basement stairwell, but all seemed quiet, so he started his way down, gun at the ready.
Sara had said Jenna would be in the last room on the right. Now that they didn’t have the key, they were going to have to be more creative about—The door stood open. Shane pointed, and Easy gave a tight nod. They hustled along the hallway and stopped just shy of the door. Shane indicated for Easy to push it open, and Shane would cover.
Silently counting to three, Easy pushed the door open, Shane swung his gun over the space. Only, the room inside was pitch-black, just like Sara had described. Shane felt along the inside wall for a switch, and finally Easy signaled him that it was outside the door. Easy flicked the switch and eased the door shut behind him so light didn’t bleed into the hall.
It took Shane’s eyes a minute to adjust, and not just because the room had gone from darkness to light.
The bed was empty. Jenna wasn’t there.
But someone else was.
“Fuck,” Shane said, stepping to the center of the room and crouching next to the body of an older black man whose shirt was drenched in blood from at least two stab wounds to the chest. There was no pulse, but the body was still warm, pliable. This had just happened.
Shane’s gaze flashed to Easy’s, and the man wore an absolutely lethal expression. “I want to take this place down,” Easy said, almost growling. For a long moment, their gazes met and held. Shane looked at the older man he assumed was Sara’s friend, soaked in his own blood on the floor. He’d probably died helping them. Shane thought of those nine women disappearing into the boats. He thought of Charlie and Jenna and the countless others he knew nothing about.
How many more have to die here?
“B-Team Leader, we have a situation with A-Team,” Jeremy said, his voice not as calm as before.
“We’ve got one here, too. The package is missing,” Shane said, wondering how much worse this night could go.
“No, it’s not. The package is with . . . you-know-
who at A-Team’s location.”
“Jesus,” Shane said under his breath. Not again. Not again. He couldn’t lose her again. “She is their top priority. Their only priority, Eileen. Make that clear.”
White-hot rage clawing down his spine, Shane looked at Easy. “Take it down,” Shane said. Gun drawn, Shane walked out into the central hallway and checked the other basement rooms. All empty. “How much time do you need?”
Easy’s smile was nearly sinister as he pulled a pouch from inside his coat. “I came prepared, dawg. Five minutes to place the materials, then we can remote this motherfucker.” He pulled small blocks of the off-white plastic explosive C-4 out and secured them to load-bearing beams, then inserted the blast caps.
“Roger that,” Shane said, keeping lookout while Easy did his thing. When they were done downstairs, they returned to the party room and quietly spread the word to the Ravens, who lacked earpieces. Prepare to haul ass out the front door so they’d mix in with the crowd.
Jeremy’s voice spilled into Shane’s earpiece. “Shots fired at Location 1, but A-Team Leader secured the delivery items. Says the package got away, but they are in pursuit.”
Shane wanted to destroy something with his bare hands. Whatever had been exchanged via the delivery meant absolutely nothing to him at this moment. Jenna was all that mattered.
“We do this now,” Shane growled to Easy, then he stalked over to the wall by the door and pulled the fire alarm. The siren screeched at an ear-shattering decibel level. “Everyone out,” Shane said, shooing the dancers out and accounting for all his men before he left the room.
The chaos of the main club was audible over the alarms—running feet, yelling, screams.
“Everyone out,” Shane yelled in the main club. “Fire!” He was glad to see no one lingering behind. Customers, dancers, waitresses—everyone bailed. Their group brought up the rear, then they were out in the night air, making a beeline for their cars and bikes as the club’s bouncers urged people to the other side of the street.