by Kit Rocha
"Oh." She slapped her forehead. "Of course. You need someone to help you figure out Sector Four. Holy shit, I'm an idiot."
Rachel still sounded friendly, but caution was a habit Lili might not ever break. "Did I say the wrong thing already?"
"Not at all. I'm just laughing at myself." The woman's cheeks turned pink. "I've been busy lately. Too busy, apparently."
With the men, Ace and Cruz. The artist and the soldier. She'd witnessed Cruz's capacity for violence in the cage, but Ace was the one who made Lili's pulse race with panic. Instincts she barely understood screamed that he was dangerous, even in the face of Rachel's blushing, dreamy smile.
Lili didn't know how to ask why anyone would want two of them. It might be the truth, but it wasn't exactly polite. "How long have you been together?"
"A few months." She lifted one hand to the ink that encircled her throat—pretty swirls that Lili had always assumed were meant to look like lace or ribbon. Here, up close, she could pick out the letters. The names.
She'd seen the tattoos before, the ones the O'Kanes wore on their wrists, on their shoulders and arms and bare chests and hips. They decorated their bodies with the same attention to detail that Lili had always used with her makeup—but makeup washed away if you made the wrong choice.
Rachel had etched their names on her skin. Forever. It made the heavy ring on Lili's left hand feel like the empty promise it was. She hadn't bothered to take it off yet, but she could. Thank God.
Rachel's voice cut in to her thoughts. "If you need help selling it…"
Lili realized she was staring at the diamond. It had always been too big. The first month she'd had it, she'd knocked it into a dozen things, scratching walls, cupboards, her own skin. It had seemed fitting, though. It was beautiful and icy cold and only for show.
Just like she needed to be.
The world seemed to constrict for a moment. It was hard to breathe, like the air around her had gotten heavier. Her heart racing, Lili twisted at the ring, dragging it off her finger. When it clattered to the workbench, she managed her first deep breath. "Please. I don't want it anymore."
Rachel picked it up, testing its weight with a few bounces of her hand. Then she held it up to the harsh, bare lights and whistled. "Might take a while, but you could get a ton for it. Then it'll be gone forever, and you'll have money." She winked at Lili. "Kill two birds with one stone."
It was such an outrageous pun that laughter bubbled up in Lili's chest, but it caught in her throat. Or maybe she caught it, because she had to. If she let the laughter free, she might not stop, and God only knew what would follow behind it. Rage and tears and five years' worth of sorrow and terror.
Too soon. It was too soon to put so much on a friendship that had been built on a few kind words and a sandwich. She smiled instead, and it felt sadder but safer. "Then I'll owe you more brownies. Or cake? Cookies?"
But Rachel only grinned. "Eh, what are friends for?"
Hawk
Finn had once told him that the cars were the only thing about Sector Four that made sense to him at first. But Finn had grown out of that—trial by fire and true love made for a lot of motivation for growth.
Cars were still the only thing about Sector Four that made sense to Hawk.
Though Jasper McCray was a close second. Dallas's second-in-command had offered to help Hawk fix up his car, since it had nearly been wrecked during Trix's rescue and their wild dash across Sector Five. The car was his baby, the first one he'd restored on his own, every part traded for, every modification carefully planned.
And the bastards from Five had riddled her with bullets.
"How long have you had her?" Jasper asked as he replaced a worn sanding pad with a fresh one.
"Altogether? Close to seven years." Hawk ran his hand over another spot he'd just sanded smooth. Filling in the bullet holes had taken weeks' worth of stolen moments, proof of just how badly he'd abused his poor car. "She's only been running for two, though. Some of the parts were hard to find, even scavenging all the way out to the ocean."
"Too bad you weren't here. Ford can find anything. Mia, too."
"You guys do have all the good shit." He grinned. "Our garage wasn't bad. Shipp put a lot of work into getting us supplies, but it was still nothing like this."
"Dallas has a lot of money," Jas confirmed. "And a lot of pull. That's why you're here, right?"
It was nothing but the truth. Put like that, though, it almost felt like an accusation. It wasn't—if Jas McCray wanted to accuse him of something, he didn't have to dance around it. But it hit too close to the uncomfortable feelings that kept him out in the garage, obsessing over his car, when he could—should—have been bonding with his new brothers and finding his place.
"I'm here because Dallas is looking forward," he said after a silence just long enough to be awkward. "I can't ignore the shit that's coming anymore."
Jasper eyed him for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough."
It didn't feel like enough, so Hawk fell back on humor, on the joke that held more truth than he liked. "Plus, it's my only chance of meeting any women who aren't my half-sisters or stepmothers."
"You haven't been doing so hot with that," Jasper pointed out. "You know, since the only woman I've seen you checking out happens to be Dallas and Lex's girl."
Oh, shit.
Hawk froze and realized a moment later how fucking guilty it made him look. He resumed his sanding and fought to keep his voice casual. "Who, Jeni?"
Jasper chuckled. "Yeah, Jeni."
The first time he'd seen her, she'd been on stage in the Broken Circle, dolled up in edgy makeup, a wig, and not a lot else. He'd seen strippers in the slums surrounding the warehouses of Six. He'd seen them in other sectors, too, usually bored or tired, ready to roll you in a back alley for a few credits.
He'd never seen anything like Jeni. Hot. Passionate. Uninhibited and unashamed, screaming her way to an orgasm that didn't sound even a little fake to the delight of a crowd who had, apparently, been trained to give a shit whether it was fake or not.
The giving-a-shit might have been the weirdest fucking part. But Hawk couldn't exactly blame them. He'd developed a pretty inappropriate fascination with her not-at-all-fake orgasms.
And then he'd realized who she was—and who she was sleeping with. "What's the deal with that, anyway? I thought Lex and Dallas were…" He gestured to Jas's arm, where Noelle's name filled his forearm. "Y'all's kind of married."
"They're together. Always." The other man shrugged. "Doesn't mean they can't care about someone else. For a night, for a year. Forever, if that's how it ends up."
Forever. The word twisted in his gut, so Hawk did what he always did—ignored the fuck out of it. The only thing that was allowed to matter was the ledger in his head, the one he'd been slowly filling with favors performed and help given. He'd need to call in those favors someday, maybe sooner than he wanted.
Now was not the time to wonder how far in the red he'd sink if Dallas caught him eyeing the wrong woman.
He was about to sand a hole through the metal, so he eased off. "If she's their girl, seems like it doesn't matter. I'll be more careful where I look."
"Even if she's been looking at you, too?"
Now Jas had to be fucking with him—or trying to fuck him up. "Doesn't make her less the boss's girl," he said, holding up his wrist. "O'Kane for life, right?"
"I'm just saying, you never know what could happen." Jasper locked the sanding plate in place and grinned. "You might find yourself invited along to the next private afterparty."
Not likely. He was struggling to strike up a rapport with the men, but at least that was happening, if slowly. The women, though…
He wasn't an idiot. He had a couple dozen sisters, and that glint of mischief in feminine eyes rarely ended well for any men in the vicinity. And they all had it here, all the damn time. They whispered about him and grinned at him, and he was pretty sure half of them might be thinking him and beds an
d naked skin and not-at-all-fake orgasms.
And it didn't do him a damn bit of good, because every time he closed his eyes, he saw—
"I'm not thinking about that," he said firmly. "We need to have the gardens done in time to plant. We're one bad harvest away from the world ending. Again."
"We work hard, but we play hard, too." Jasper held up his own wrist. "You're falling down on that last part, Hawk. And if I've noticed, so has Dallas. Don't be surprised if he asks you what's up."
It was a message. Hell, coming from Dallas's right hand, it was damn near a warning. Not that he had to get to fucking, but that he'd better have a better reason than wanting someone he couldn't have. "Got it."
"You should come over and hang out with me and Noelle tonight." Jasper held up both hands. "Nothing like that. But she wants to get to know you."
Somewhere out there, his entire family was scraping by on a farm that owed a larger and larger percentage of its yield to Eden each year. There was hardly enough to survive on as it was—only Shipp's smuggling kept food on the table these days, and that was barely getting it done now.
Sooner or later, the lives and livelihood of everyone he'd known and loved might depend on his place with the O'Kanes, on what sorts of assurances he could have waiting for them when the time came to abandon the farm. He needed alliances, not girlfriends. He needed favors owed and markers he could call in, not friendly dinners and cuddles.
Unless he'd been going about it all wrong, and dinners and cuddles were how you became one of them. How you became so much a part of the gang that it wasn't about markers and favors, but having each other's backs.
And the worst he had to lose was one night. "I'd love to."
Chapter Four
Noelle Cunningham didn't act like a councilman's daughter.
Lili had never met Edwin Cunningham. Her father had not-so-cordially loathed Noelle's, and had partnered with his rival with a glee he'd never bothered to hide. But she'd met men like Edwin—rich and powerful, cultured and condescending. On the very, very rare occasions they'd brought their wives and daughters with them, the grand ladies of Eden had stared past Lili and her mother as if they were beneath their notice.
Sector trash. That was what she'd been to them. A grasping, greedy girl reaching above her station. Lili had still been capable of rage in those worst moments—not for herself, but for her mother, who suffered enough indignities for being Mac Fleming's wife.
Noelle was nothing like them, and it wasn't just the change of wardrobe and the vibrant tattoos. She was warm, soft, smiling widely from the moment Lili opened the door at her knock. "Hey, Lex needs to see you in the bar."
It didn't exactly sound like an invitation. Lili was dressed decently enough in a skirt and sleeveless blouse, but she wasn't dressed. Her hair still hung loose around her shoulders, and her makeup sat untouched on her dresser. Without both, she felt naked. "Is everything all right?"
"It's fine." Noelle waved a hand at Lili's shoes. "But you need to put those on and come. Lex is perplexed, and trust me, she doesn't like being perplexed."
Still friendly, still so warm, but there was a hint of command there, too. Casual confidence, and it was as intriguing as seeing Rachel at home in the garage. There was no way Edwin Cunningham's daughter had been raised to believe she could command people's obedience.
So Lili put on her shoes.
Noelle linked their arms together as soon as she closed the door, all but dragging Lili down three flights of stairs and out into the bright spring morning before speaking again. "I heard you like to cook. And that you're good at it."
The compliment rubbed some of the edges off her nerves. "Well, I do enjoy it. And I've learned some tricks."
"Don't be modest." Noelle grinned at her. "Yes, modesty is ladylike, but it also pisses Dallas off. He likes to know what sorts of resources he has at his disposal."
It was an odd way to look at it. Cooking had always been expected of her, and anything less than talent equaled failure. It might still be an obligation here, but perhaps a valued one. "I'll remember that."
"Good. You're going to be okay." Noelle pulled Lili into a hug so abrupt it was already over before she could unlock her muscles. Noelle seemed unbothered by her lack of response and was already dragging open the back door to the bar. "Go straight through the kitchen. Lex is in the main room."
Still stunned, Lili followed her directions, navigating the cramped kitchens and pushing through the swinging doors on the other side.
Lex stood beside a huge wooden crate, her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow upraised. "Delivery for you, Lili."
Lili stopped next to the bar and stared.
The crate was huge, almost as tall as Lex. "I...don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting anything."
A short, sharp laugh escaped Lex. "Think we should shoot it a couple of times, just to be safe?"
It might not be the worst idea.
Still wary, Lili ran her fingertips along the edge of the crate. The wood looked recycled, old and worn down until it was almost smooth. There were holes where nails had been driven before and pulled free, but that told her nothing. In the sectors, wood was always reused. "The person who delivered it didn't say anything?"
"Sure, he did. Package for Miss Lili Fleming." Lex stepped up on the bottom rung of a stool, reached over the bar, and came up with a crowbar clutched in one hand. "You want to do the honors?"
It was an order, not an offer. Lili gingerly took the crowbar and, praying she wouldn't accidentally damage something, began prying off the front of the crate. The nails gave way easily, and Lex helped steady the heavy plywood as Lili lifted it away to reveal the last thing she'd expected.
"Huh." Lex stared at the scarred, ancient wood inside the packing crate. "It's a fucking piano."
It was. A beautiful upright with enough height to produce a full, rich tone. And old—not just pre-Flare, but something that would have been antique even then. The wood was scratched and battered, and someone else might have assumed that made it less valuable.
But the outside wasn't the important part.
Lili set the crowbar aside and lifted the fallboard. The keys were aged, not just discolored but smoothed into silky softness. But when she found middle C, the note came clear and perfect. "A very well-maintained piano."
Lex leaned against the side of the crate. "Yours? Something an old friend from Five sent over?"
Her piano had been brand new, flawless and beautiful—not because anyone valued her pleasure in it, but because it wouldn't do for anyone to think Mac Fleming and Logan Beckett couldn't afford the best. "No, I've never seen this one before."
"Ah." The woman shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked on her heels. "Well, I only know one person who could pull this off, Miss Lili Fleming. I believe you've made his very refined acquaintance."
She almost said who, but there was only one person it could be. "Jared?"
"The one and only."
"But I barely talked to him." He'd been polite. Enchanting. Surreally beautiful and pleasant enough that she'd ached a little at the loss of him when he took his leave. But then Lex had started...touching and kissing, and Lili had been fervently, humiliatingly glad to be free of the temptation of his presence.
If he'd stayed, she would have made a fool of herself.
"Barely talked?" Lex shook her head. "Somehow, honey, I don't think that matters, not with a man like him."
She couldn't resist touching the keys again. She wanted to settle in, remember how her fingers moved, how it felt when she knew a piece so deeply she didn't have to think. "I don't even know what sort of man he is."
"Complicated," Lex answered simply, then took a step back. "I'll round up a few of the guys and see if we can get this moved for you. In the meantime…" She turned on her heel and started walking toward the back exit. "I hear he likes cookies."
Lex vanished, leaving Lili alone with the gift.
Gift.
She settled her thumb on middle C again and played the first scale she'd ever learned. C Major was simple enough, but she'd been young, her fingers clumsy and too short to make it easy. She'd practiced for hours every day on that first piano, one that hadn't been so different from this. Scarred and old but well-loved.
On her fifteenth birthday, her father had gifted her with a pristine grand piano. She'd never seen anything like it, had never imagined anything so perfect could be meant for her.
Because it hadn't been.
Gifts were a trap. Sometimes they were brownies in exchange for friendship. And sometimes they were beautiful pianos, in exchange for…
That was the question, wasn't it?
Already regretting it, Lili eased her fingers from the keys. Whatever the price was, it was too high. She had nothing to offer that could be worth this. Offering everything wouldn't be worth this, even if she could bring herself to do it.
She would start with cookies. And she'd find a way to break it to Jared that whatever he was looking for, he wouldn't find it in her.
No one ever did.
It wasn't unusual for Ace to show up unannounced. Over the years, he'd appeared at Jared's door at all hours of the day and night, sometimes dragging a man or a woman—or both—along with him.
He'd never brought baked goods before.
"Did you do it, man?" Ace demanded, sprawling on the couch without relinquishing the plate of cookies. "Lex thinks it was you, but I told her she's nuts. And that went over great."
"I imagine so." He could only be referring to the piano, but Jared hadn't climbed this high by making assumptions. "You'll have to be more specific, though. Did I do what?"
"Come on." Ace rolled his eyes. "Did you give that girl a goddamn piano?"
"Oh, that." He shrugged. "Sure. Finn mentioned she'd like to have one, and I can well afford it, so I figured why not?"