Hard As You Can

by Laura Kaye

  “I didn’t do this to her, bitch. You did. Don’t forget that for a second.”

  Tears flooded Crystal’s green eyes. “Bruno, please.”

  “Here’s the deal, Crystal. You have a day to turn yourself in to me, for you to take her place. If you’re not here by tomorrow night, I’ll sell her, and you’ll never see her again. And I’ll still come after your scrawny ass.”

  “No!” she cried, sagging against Shane’s body. The line went dead, and Crystal’s knees buckled altogether. Shane swept her into his arms and cradled her against his chest as she wept. The sound of her pain slayed him. And it made him all the more determined to make the man responsible for it pay. With his life. “We have to go to Confessions,” she sobbed. “Take me to Confessions.”

  Not a chance. “We can’t trust a man like him to negotiate in good faith, Crystal. But we’ll figure this out. I promise,” he said, as she cried. No way Shane would ever entertain the idea of turning Crystal over anyway. Looking to his team, he said, “I want to get her inside. We can hash this out there.”

  Expressions ranging from enraged to outright homicidal, everyone agreed.

  “Can I come?” Ike asked, his expression matching the rest. “I’m not making any promises, but maybe we can help.” We, not I.

  Shane didn’t know a lot about motorcycle gangs, but what he did know was that they tended to be heavily armed, unafraid to fight, and mobile. “It’s fine by me,” Shane said. “We could use the friends.”

  Nick nodded. “I agree.” Easy eyeballed the guy and nodded, too. Beckett and Marz were the last to come around, but Shane saw in their eyes that they’d run the calculus of what an alliance with Ike and the Ravens could mean and come to the same positive conclusion. “Come on up, man,” Nick finally said. “And thanks.”

  Inside, Nick led them to the gym, and all the men followed him in, leaving Shane and Crystal alone on the landing.

  “Put me down,” Crystal said. “I’m okay.”

  Shane gently placed her on her feet but kept his hands on her waist just in case. “My room’s over there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the Rixeys’ apartment. “Why don’t I show you around, and you can rest a while.”

  She shook her head. “I want to know what’s going on. What the plan is.” Crystal hugged herself tight. “He means what he says, Shane. If I don’t go, he will sell her.”

  “I know what he’s capable of, sweetness. I’ve seen some of it for myself. We’ll find another way. Trust me.”

  “I do. But I still want to stay with you. Hear the plan. Otherwise, I’ll go crazy.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. Whatever makes this easier on you, okay?” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, and she nodded. “Come on.” He punched the code into the gym door and grasped her little hand in his.

  Nick, Marz, Beckett, Easy, Jeremy, and Ike stood and sat around Marz’s desk at the back. Nick’s voice carried across the gym as he finished giving Jeremy the basics of the situation, including the fact that Ike knew a little of what was going on.

  Shane noticed Ike soaking up the location information posted on a whiteboard behind Marz and the mug-shot identifications duct-taped to the brick wall. And let him look. Might as well know exactly what he’d be getting himself and his club involved in.

  Shane made a round of introductions for the sake of both Crystal and Ike.

  “I have something for you,” Crystal said, handing Shane her cell phone. “I snuck into Bruno’s office after lunch and found some papers that seemed relevant to your friends. If you hadn’t mentioned Becca’s name over coffee this morning, I might’ve missed it. I took pictures.” She shrugged. “I hope there’s something useful.”

  “Crystal, that’s . . . amazing,” Shane said, threading his hand into her hair and pulling her closer so he could kiss her forehead. That explained the lost phone. Guilt and regret slithered through Shane’s gut. Had he done something to make her feel she needed to take such a chance? And, God, what bravery to have done it. Because what she’d done was something none of them could’ve done easily, and maybe not at all. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll take that,” Marz said. “Return it after I download all the pics?”

  Crystal nodded, and Shane loved the way she felt in his arms and against his skin. He pulled two chairs together so he didn’t have to stop touching her. She seemed to crave it as much as he did, always leaning into his caresses or closing her eyes as if savoring them. He put his arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to lean into the crook of his body. The sigh she released sounded like comfort and satisfaction. With everything that was going on, Shane felt ten feet tall that he might be able to give that to her.

  Then they brought Ike up to speed and brainstormed the situation. Bruno’s timeline freed them from having to rush out tonight with an ill-planned and undermanned rescue mission. And they always had the audio and video surveillance from inside Confessions to keep him honest. Just as valuable, the asshole’s gloating about Jenna’s location gave them confirmed intel for the escape and evac that lay before them.

  “What did he mean by your favorite room, Crystal?” Marz said, his voice gentle, almost apologetic.

  Shane’s gut clenched. He’d known they were going to have to broach that topic at some point, but he’d also seen how those words had almost physically impacted her. A cold foreboding clawed up his spine.

  Her gaze flickered uncomfortably to Shane before she responded to Marz. “Four years ago, I was, um, imprisoned in a room in the basement of Confessions for almost a week. It’s the room at the far end of the hall from where your friend was held,” she said, meeting Nick’s gaze. But not Shane’s, and he hated every one of the reasons he could imagine for her sudden skittishness around him. Wanting to ease her any way he could, he grasped her hand in her lap and stroked his thumb over her knuckles again and again. And tried to keep his mind from imagining what had happened inside that room.

  Please, God, don’t let that room have anything to do with the scars on her back. But even as he sent up the prayer, Shane’s instincts prickled. Jesus Christ.

  “Well, we have the perfect in to get there,” Marz said. “My bachelor party.”

  Elation flooded through Shane’s system. He’d nearly forgotten. “Fuck, Marz. That’s genius. They won’t suspect us. We’ll have the perfect cover. And it’ll get us in the back part of Confessions with access to the downstairs stairwell.”

  Animation filtered into Crystal’s expression. “That’s good,” she said. “Getting into the back undetected is half the battle.” She turned to Shane. “The party’s perfect.”

  Shane fucking loved seeing Crystal engaged, willing to fight. It meant she could weather the stress of the situation. And it was damn sexy, too.

  “Wait. In the middle of all this, you’re throwing a party?” Ike asked, disbelief darkening his expression.

  Marz chuffed out a laugh. “No. It’s a ruse. We pretended to be planning a party as a way to plant surveillance inside. Now we can use the scheduled party itself to get Jenna.” He flew forward in his seat. “Aw, hell, I didn’t call with the head-count information. Let me do that right now.” The call didn’t take long. Marz confirmed the party, made the reservation randomly for twelve people, and was off the phone again in under five minutes. “All set,” he said with a smile.

  “Good. Now, what do we do about the second delivery?” Beckett asked, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s supposed to be tomorrow night, too.” And probably at about the same time, if the previous night’s meeting was any guide.

  Shane nodded. “Yes, that’s what Garza said.”

  “Question is,” Marz said, “what’s our goal? More fact-finding, which is valuable since we’re still identifying the players at this point. Or are we hoping to intervene this time?” Shane’s gut clenched. If there were more women involved, he didn’t think he could stand by and watch them get stolen away.

  Nick turned to Ike. “Well, I think the answer
to that question depends on whether we have any assistance.”

  “I’m lost again,” Ike said. Nick caught him up on what had happened Wednesday night and what little they knew about Friday. Ike blew out a long breath. “You guys are fighting a war with a goddamned stick,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Doing the best we can with what we have,” Easy said, tension sliding into his voice.

  “I believe it,” Ike said, looking each man in the eye. “But it wouldn’t be smart to run the rescue with just the group of you. It’d be suicidal to try to handle both tasks on your own. Impossible, probably.”

  Nick folded his arms and nailed Ike with a stare. “Agreed. Not sure what kinds of options we have, though.”

  The question hung in the air for a long moment.

  Ike sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have some resources at my disposal. But they’re not cheap. And they don’t ride without putting it to a vote. That’ll take a little time.”

  The mention of money made Crystal’s expression drop. Shane squeezed her leg, trying to let her know it would be okay.

  “You know exactly how much time we have,” Nick said. He glanced around the room. “What kind of resources are we talking? And what kind of cost?”

  “Something like this? Safest to involve the whole club. That’s twenty-eight men with weapons, ammo, and the know-how to use them. Cost is probably mid-to-high five figures. Or, if whatever this delivery is goes our way, a cut of the assets.” Ike shrugged. “That’s just how it works.”

  On the one hand, Shane resented the price tag attached to the offer of help. On the other, Ike and the Ravens, if they came through, might represent the boots and guns they needed to be competitive against Church, whoever those boatmen were, and whoever WEC was, once the team discovered their identity.

  Shane saw the subtle nods go around as Nick silently surveyed the men. It was unanimous. Nick turned to Ike. “We’re interested, and we’ve got the resources you’re describing.” Thanks to Becca’s willingness to use her father’s life insurance for this mission. And, once they found the password to Merritt’s Singapore account, they’d have even more. “Now we just need to know how soon the Ravens might be able to make a decision.”

  Chapter 20

  It was only seven thirty at night, but Crystal felt like she’d been awake for days. Maybe longer. Despite the way her brain raced with worry over Jenna and with anticipation over the plan Shane’s friends had put in place to rescue her, Crystal’s limbs felt heavy and sluggish, her eyes stung, and her body just . . . hurt.

  Yet none of that compared to what Jenna had to be going through. God, she’d had a seizure from the stress of the attack. She must’ve been so scared. And now she was alone in that pit of a room, the walls, floor, and ceiling all painted a deadening, solid black, along with the bed and the bedding. At least, that’s the way it had been four years ago. A sensory-deprivation chamber meant to disorient, break down, and heighten a person’s reactions to what took place within.

  God, please let her be alone. Crystal shuddered and prayed that, just this once, Jenna’s epilepsy might prove an advantage. If her seizure had been bad, she could be semiconscious at best all night and into tomorrow. Maybe the postseizure symptoms she often had, the raspy breathing, vomiting, moaning, and tremors, would dissuade anyone from bothering her. It wasn’t much of a hope to hang on to, but it was something.

  As soon as the discussion and brainstorming came to an end, Ike rose, shook everyone’s hands, and promised to be in touch. The man might’ve been in a rival gang, and his size and hard edges—with the bald head and large expanses of ink—might’ve been a little intimidating, but he’d also been gruffly kind and openly sympathetic to what’d happened to Jenna. Not everyone was like Bruno and the other Apostles. It was a good lesson to remember.

  “All right,” Nick said, rising. “We’re going to need to be sharp tomorrow. So everyone sleep tonight.” He seemed especially to direct that comment at Derek, sitting at one of the computers.

  “Trust me. I will. But I’m gonna keep an eye on the feeds from Confessions while I finish up the last of these searches and download Crystal’s pictures,” Derek said. Crystal had liked him since the night at the club. He was friendly and funny and easygoing. All of these guys were so different from the ones she’d been forced to hang around the past few years. Her gaze slid to big, quiet, serious-looking Beckett, working on his cell phone. Except for maybe that guy. He was a little scary.

  “Good. I’m going to go check on Becca and Charlie. Feel free to grab me if you need me,” Nick said, then he turned to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Crystal. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. But we’ll try to make that right tomorrow.”

  She shouldn’t have been stunned by his kindness, but she kinda was. “Thank you,” she managed. “Thanks to all of you.”

  Murmured expressions of welcome went around, and Nick headed out.

  “Would you come with me?” Shane asked, something warm and intense in his gaze.

  “Yeah.” Part of her feared being alone with him—for the first time with no danger of being caught, but part of her craved it.

  Crystal gave the other guys a small wave, then she and Shane cut across the big warehouse room. It was an odd space. Only partially finished. Mostly a gym, Marz’s obviously thrown-together computer station filled one corner and an equally thrown-together table that appeared able to seat ten or twelve dominated another. “Where exactly are we?” she asked. She’d been in little position to pay much attention on the ride over here, but it felt strange not knowing where she was.

  Shane opened the door for Crystal. “Off Eastern Avenue not far from the harbor. Above a tattoo shop called Hard Ink that belongs to Nick and Jeremy.”

  “And you all know each other from the Army?”

  He entered the code at a door across a wide industrial hallway. “Not Jeremy or Ike, but the rest of us.”

  As in the five men from a twelve-man team who had survived what sounded like a horrific attack.

  When Nick had recounted to Ike the events that led to the group of them being in this situation, Crystal had listened with interest and sadness for Shane. As if the loss of his little sister wasn’t enough, Shane had also gone through that ambush, lost a bunch of his friends, then had been forced out of the Army. That was a lot for anyone to bear.

  Yet it hadn’t made Shane angry or bitter or prone to lash out. It made him want to help others from going through the same. And it made Crystal want to hold Shane, comfort him, and protect him the way he was protecting her.

  “This way,” Shane said, leading her through the living room. The apartment was really cool. Masculine and modern. Tons bigger than the shoebox she and Jenna shared. Or, had shared. After they got Jenna back, could they even risk returning there for their things? Her stomach plummeted thinking they might have to give up their most cherished belongings, her mother’s sewing machine, the clothes she’d made, Jenna’s huge collection of books, their family pictures. All the money she’d saved. But she couldn’t worry about that right now. One thing at a time.

  And the first thing—by far the most important thing—was getting Jenna back. Crystal’s insides nearly vibrated from the frustration and anxiety of having to wait. But it wasn’t like she had much of a choice because she didn’t believe Bruno would really let Jenna go if Crystal breezed in the front door. And having heard Shane’s friends talk through the options, she’d been convinced that going in under the cover of the bachelor party gave them all kinds of advantages.

  But in the meantime, it was a little hard to exist in her skin. And it felt wrong to eat a meal or go to sleep or enjoy Shane’s company while Jenna was in such grave danger. If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to help Jenna when she returns. There was truth in that. With two such serious seizures so close together, Jenna’s health was likely to be rocky in the coming days.

  To actually manage food in her belly or falling aslee
p, she was going to have to lock away her worry for Jenna. Temporarily. Easier said than done, though.

  Maybe Shane could help. Maybe allowing herself the distraction of his company and his touch and his kind words was exactly what she needed.

  Maybe wanting him—even now in the middle of this life-and-death situation—wasn’t the betrayal to Jenna that her conscience held it up to be.

  Light spilled from under a doorway just ahead, and two people walked into the hallway as she and Shane neared.

  “Oh, good. I was hoping I’d get to introduce you two tonight,” Shane said to a pretty blond-haired woman standing with Nick.

  Shane’s introduction was hardly out of his mouth when Becca threw her arms around Crystal’s neck and hugged her. “Thank you so much for helping the guys get my brother out of there. I’m so sorry to hear about your sister. Nick just told me,” she said with such sincerity and concern.

  Crystal was so unused to friendly, affectionate touch that at first she flinched in response to Becca’s expression of gratitude. But the other woman didn’t seem to notice. “You’re welcome,” Crystal said, her throat tight with sadness again. “I guess you know what this is like.”

  Becca grasped Crystal’s hand. “I do. And if they could get Charlie out, they can get Jenna, too. Don’t lose hope.”

  “I’ll try.” The conviction in Becca’s voice almost made Crystal believe it.

  “We were gonna grab a bite to eat,” Nick said. “You guys want anything?”

  “Crystal?” Shane asked, his big, warm hand on the small of her back.

  Something about his touch there made her feel special, claimed. “Um, I wouldn’t mind a drink, but my stomach’s too jittery for food right now.”

  Shane guided her to the kitchen, showed her the mountain of drink choices in the fridge, and grabbed her a Sprite and a glass of ice.

  Nick pulled a half gallon of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream from the freezer. “You change your mind later, Crystal, just help yourself to anything. Make yourself at home. Okay?”