The Transporter

by Maverick, Liz

  “No problem,” Shane said. He took the documents and studied a graph with so many lines it looked like a mutant spider from hell. Closer inspection revealed it was actually a trail following bank accounts with lines labeled with circled letters that pointed from one page to another, around, and back again.

  Nick pointed to one of the account numbers. “That’s the account Anya’s credit card tapped. It’s being fed both by James, who’s pulling dough from wire transfers out of Russia . . . and by Anya’s boyfriend, one Vlad Sokolov. For the record, I don’t know that Sokolov is a spy, but he’s definitely doing some shady business with the mother country.” He hesitated and then added, “I’ve worked with him.”

  “Well, that’s some sweet intel,” Shane said.

  “Not exactly,” Nick muttered.

  Shane watched Nick carefully for a second and then decided not to get into his business. He trusted his brother to share whatever needed to be shared. He looked back down at the papers. “We adding Vlad to our watch list?”

  “Rothgar’s on it.” Nick handed him a receipt. “And that’s your latest freelance. Money’s snug in bed.”

  Shane glanced at it to make sure the right amount had gone to his Point A. As usual, it was correct. “You take a cut for yourself?”

  Nick shrugged and took a seat in one of two new guest chairs that had shown up that morning.

  “Jaysus, man. You’re doing me a service. Take your cut.” It wasn’t like Nick needed the cash; he had more money than anybody on the team, including Rothgar. But that wasn’t the point.

  Nick reached over and grabbed one of Cecily’s new buys from a side table, a fancy candle done in gray with gold lines, and started tossing it in the air like a baseball. “I’ll donate it to the SPCA.”

  “You ever get a dog?”

  Nick’s face went a little dark. “Not yet.”

  Shane studied his face, second-guessing his decision not to pry. “How long have you been staying at the Armory?”

  “Long enough to watch on videocam one of my fish jump the tank in an ill-fated quest for a life with a better pH balance.” Nick didn’t look over; kept his eye on the candle.

  Nick was keeping up a good front, but Shane could tell he was in some kind of pain. “You need help with that problem of yours?” Shane asked.

  Nick stopped tossing the candle. “I’m starting to think about asking Geo,” he said with a grin that didn’t quite hide his discomfort.

  Shane raised both eyebrows. He knew that Rothgar had a few guys he considered members of the Hudson Kings who had never been to the Armory, never met the rest of the team, and were essentially placed undercover in locations throughout the world. Geo was a man on the borderline of that group. Geo was also a hit man. And that was as much as most of the men on the home squad knew about him.

  Before Shane had a chance to ask anything else, a voice full of piss said, “I tried, man. I really did try.” This, from Dex, walking in. Shane sighed. Yeah, this was definitely Grand Central. Piss and all.

  “Take a load off,” Nick said to Dex, gesturing to the other new guest chair still wearing its plastic protective cover.

  Dex didn’t sit. “I tried to be a team player. Rothgar said put her in with you. I didn’t veto. Now she’s being asked not to cut ties with the guy. Leave the door open so we can keep James on a string. The fact is we’re basically using my sister as bait, and you’re not only okay with it, it’s like you’re fucking inspiring her to get involved even further in this shit.”

  Shane forced himself to relax his body. Nick starting tossing the candle again, but he sat forward, his body alert, ready to play referee.

  “I’m not making her do anything, but I’m sure as shit trying to support her choices,” Shane said. “Maybe you should try it.”

  “Maybe you should leave her the fuck alone.” Dex looked pointedly over at the plant. He reached out and grabbed the candle from Nick in midair and held it up for Shane’s inspection. “I know my sister very well,” he said tightly. “I also know she’s rebounding from a really bad relationship. Don’t make her think there’s something where there’s nothing.”

  There was a long silence. It’s not nothing. It wasn’t nothing from the moment I saw her. “You don’t seem to know just how smart she is, or how capable she is,” Shane said.

  “Oh, I know. I just don’t think she needs to put her skills to use in a way that could get her killed.” Dex looked at Nick and added, “And I’m not sure how I feel about the rest of the guys being okay with it either. Would you have put her in the restaurant, Nick?”

  Nick leaned forward in his chair. He looked at Dex. He looked at Shane. “That’s not my zone. I don’t even carry a gun,” he said. “I know how to cut off someone’s air supply, but I’ve never had to try. I can ruin your life from my seat at a desk in an air-conditioned skyscraper, without getting a scratch on either of us. I have the cleanest shirts you’ve ever seen, and there’s not one pair of boots in my closet. I do serious damage, but not like the bruisers on this team.”

  Nick made a fist, squeezing hard and then releasing. “Well, that’s how it used to be. Suddenly, I find myself lying awake in an unfamiliar room in the Armory trying to figure out how to get back to normal. So, Dex, if you’re asking me, if I had normal back and I cared about a woman . . .” He paused, a muscle in his jaw throbbing, and then continued. “Would I let her go into that restaurant like your sister? Would I tell her to make James think there’s still an in if he asks? Nah. Not a chance.”

  He looked at Shane. “Sorry, buddy, but that’s just my opinion. You know I always give Rothgar one hundred percent, but being loyal doesn’t mean you have to agree with every decision.”

  Nick got up and squeezed Dex’s shoulder on his way out, but he looked back. “Didn’t get a chance to tell you that this shit you’re doing to your room looks good. Glad you decided to rejoin the human race.”

  Dex stared at the floor. He looked up at Shane, and then he just followed Nick out.

  In the quiet of the room, Shane ran a hand over the new blanket. What am I forgetting? What did I do to deserve her, and how long is it going to be before someone or something takes it away? Takes her away. His woman. A woman he was losing his heart to in a way he never knew was possible.

  The last knock of the night sounded at the door, and the person behind it did not feel the need to barrel in. Cecily. Thank fuck. He slammed the door shut behind her.

  “Sweetling,” he said hoarsely. He dipped his head at the same time he hooked her around the waist and pressed her hard against the door.

  Cecily moaned into his mouth. Shane kissed her thoroughly, and when they came up for air, she asked, “The stuff for the room, you happy? Any thoughts?”

  “Only dirty ones,” he answered, kicking hard with one boot to get the boxes off the bed, an inelegant solution Shane didn’t give one fuck about.

  CHAPTER 21

  When the Hudson Kings were working on a big case, Rothgar made it part of Missy’s job to remove external distractions. Part of this meant getting the team fed and back in the war room as soon as possible each day.

  Team meals involved a lot of food, a lot of noise, and a lot of good old-school “family” time; Cecily could see more and more why Dex was so drawn to this life.

  Unfortunately, Dex was too busy glowering across the table at Shane to enjoy much of Missy’s truly stellar breakfast or make much conversation with said family.

  Shane avoided Dex’s stink eye by focusing almost exclusively on shoveling in his food. But every once in a while, his eyes would meet hers and sparks would go flying, and Dex would look pissed, and the rest of the guys would exchange amused looks.

  Except for Rothgar.

  Rothgar watched over the table like a man whose mind literally never stopped for a break. Cecily noticed him take in the discord at his table. His eyes met hers, and he hooked his chin toward the side counter lined with at least five different methods of coffee-brewing equipment alongsid
e a pyramid of mismatched mugs that varied in design from kittens hanging off branches to absurdly offensive slogans.

  Cecily swallowed hard and mumbled something about a refill, and then she got up and headed his way. Rothgar was just huge, and though he sure as hell didn’t remind her of her father, between the intensity of his expression and his 24-7-alert body language, she had the distinct sense she was in some kind of trouble.

  “Hi,” he said turning to the espresso machine and spending a long time concocting a very specific cappuccino complete with a precise tap of cinnamon. “You and I need to talk.”

  “It’s okay,” Cecily managed. “I get it.”

  Roth’s mouth quirked. “Maybe. Know that I back Dex one hundred percent, so I back you. You played it cool at the restaurant, and I’ve got no complaints about your abilities in the field as a novice . . .”

  My abilities in the field? In what universe am I having this conversation? And why am I so pleased I might actually be good at some of this stuff?

  “But you asked me for a favor to give James a little payback, and now the mission’s over. So if what I’m hearing—that you’re interested in getting on with your life—is true, don’t be offended if I tell you I think that’s a good idea to make that happen sooner rather than later.” His gaze pierced her. “I consider you one of ours, and that means I look out for you now, but it also means we talk straight. Do you have a plan? Do you need a job? Is there something holding you back you need help with?”

  Something holding me back? God, yes. Well, someone. Of course she still wanted to follow through with her original plans for a new life in New York City. It wasn’t like she was going to up and decide to become part of a mercenary team instead of a graphic designer. Not that Rothgar was offering. What if he actually did offer? Suddenly the idea didn’t seem bat-shit crazy. Maybe just regular crazy. Of course, regular crazy was still doable . . . oh, man, when had things gotten so complicated?

  But Rothgar didn’t offer. He simply said, “You got an answer for me?”

  “Oh, no.” Embarrassment had Cecily beet red; she knew this because she could feel the heat all over her face. “You don’t . . . thanks, but I’ve got plans on the outside. I actually had plans to check out some classes tomorrow. So, I’m, um, making progress. But, really, thanks, Rothgar.”

  “You hear about Ally?”

  “Allison? Yeah.” Cecily nodded.

  “Go meet her. If you like her, like the apartment, get it done. You might be off Armory territory, but you’re still in our sights, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. And that means making sure you log out with Missy before going into the wild. Don’t think you’re out of here, you’re on your own. We’re keeping tabs on James; we’re keeping tabs on you.”

  Considering he was throwing her out, he was doing a good job. The way he said it, it was almost like he was asking her to take on a mission. Not the kind of mission that had as much appeal as maybe it should have. Your mission is to get Shane to stop looking at you like he’s starving. Which means you should probably go live somewhere else. She glanced back at the table: Shane and Dex still throwing daggers; the other guys riling them up. “You’ve got a big job to do.”

  “Yes.” Roth took a gulp of cappuccino, which seemed to empty the mug by half, at least. “This is what I do. It’s important. And when something clouds the picture, I move the clouds. I try to make it a big win for everybody, but I’ll settle for making it a big win for just my team if I have to. You get me, I think.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. But right now I need him thinking about the job, so there are decisions to be made, and like you pointed out, we’re in the middle of something big. We’ve all got to do what we’ve come here to do.”

  Cecily took a deep breath. “Is it that you don’t think it’ll last anyway, or you don’t want it to?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Cecily flinched but held her ground.

  If she and Shane found their sweet spot, some place where they made sense in spite of their differences, a place without drama and distraction, why couldn’t they have it all?

  She just nodded. “I understand,” she said softly, biting her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Give my regards to Ally, if she’ll take them.” Rothgar raised his mug by way of dismissal and headed to Shane’s place at the table. “Anybody got questions about today? Mostly same old, same old we’ve been doing for a week now.”

  A lot of head nodding. No questions. Cecily knew they were on to the next phase of building a case against Anya Gorchakov. That meant Shane would be out in his car a lot, which also meant that Shane wouldn’t be rolling around on every available surface behind closed doors with Cecily.

  “Shane,” Rothgar continued. “Got something to add to your plate. Keep going with the usual today and tomorrow but add Romeo’s nighttime shift.” He looked around the table. “I’m taking him off the roster indefinitely.”

  Shane’s eyebrows flew up. Cecily had to wonder if Rothgar was giving Shane extra work to keep her away from him.

  “Grab blueprints from Missy after lunch. You can hit me with any questions in an hour.” Rothgar paused. “You got a problem with that?”

  A faint snicker pierced the silence. “Aw, Shane, it’ll be all right. You can be charming when you want to,” Chase called across the table.

  As Cecily took her seat, she made a mental note to ask Missy for a few more details about Romeo’s specialty.

  “I don’t want to,” Shane muttered.

  “But you’re good for it,” Rothgar said.

  Shane glowered at him, like he was pissed Rothgar had to ask. “You know I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “Glad you’re good for something, bro,” Nick called.

  Shane turned to glower at him too and just missed being beaned by half of a bagel.

  “Don’t worry about Rothgar,” Missy whispered to Cecily, licking the butter dripping from her English muffin over the back of her hand.

  Missy said this a lot. Cecily wasn’t planning to worry, but it did inspire her to get her ducks in a row with respect to her new career path and an alternative to living in a fraternity house with a band of mercenaries. It said something that she was feeling secure enough about things with Shane to think about what she wanted for herself during her own time. “I’m fine. It was super awkward, but it’s not that big of a deal, since I’m not angling to move in permanently. I’m trying out some classes tomorrow. Rothgar’s the one who shouldn’t worry.”

  “Oh, yeah? You’re planning to leave soon? I thought it was going well with Shane.”

  “It is going well,” Cecily whispered, hoping Missy would take the hint and lower her voice.

  “Aha!” Missy grinned. “I knew there was a reason you bought him a blankie. So do tell. Is bigger really better?”

  Nick looked over, his eyebrows hiked.

  Cecily buried her smile in her coffee cup.

  CHAPTER 22

  Cecily Keegan stood at the top of the steps leading into the design academy, shuffling some papers. Framed between two enormous Grecian columns, she looked up, smiling like she was making sure to spread enough sunshine before heading down.

  A sight for sore eyes was putting it mildly. Shane, from his vantage point in the car, parked illegally next to a hot dog vendor he’d just massively tipped, thought it was the best city view he’d ever seen.

  All he could think was, How did this happen?

  He’d never harbored false expectations about his future.

  First, he’d been a punk on a path that was supposed to end in jail. Rothgar pulled him out of that, and then he’d had the Hudson Kings, a family of brothers who made him think about more than just his own survival.

  Maybe having an adopted family like that wasn’t everything a man could ever want in life, but it was solid. And there were plenty of women around who didn’t care that his heart was a block of ice, as long as his dick
gave it to them hot.

  And then one day, that man takes a drive. It starts the same way it always starts: key in the ignition, foot on the gas. But this time a woman named Cecily ends up in his car, and when the door closes behind her, Shane’s entire life changes.

  How did this happen? How did he go from nothing to feeling like all this beauty was only the beginning?

  You’re falling in love with her. Or maybe he already was. Since he’d never felt anything like this, he had no fucking idea where he was. But he’d take it. Life handed around enough shit. He was smart enough to know that unless you had a really good reason, you take it when the good stuff finally comes around.

  A parade of people went up and down the building steps as he watched, some of them sitting down on the broad stairs with a cup of coffee, some standing in groups holding backpacks and portfolios.

  Shane’s practiced eye moved to a man heading for the stairs who didn’t seem to fit the mold of either arty student or dressed-down faculty: expensive suit, all-American haircut, watch flashing too much in the sunlight. The guy put a tray holding two iced teas down on the ground and stepped to the side of the stairs to wait in the shade.

  Definitely James. Adjusting a gun in the back of his waistband.

  Shane pulled the keys from the ignition, barked at the hot dog vendor to watch his car, and fucking hightailed it to the side stairs on the far side, where James couldn’t see him coming.

  Cecily started down the steps. James picked up the tray of iced tea and called out to her.

  Shane watched, his heart pounding, trying to figure out his move. If he revealed himself as one of the Hudson Kings, he’d know the team was onto him for what he really was. If he said nothing and just pulled a gun, it would probably imply the same thing.

  Cecily stood frozen, staring at James, clutching her papers.

  James was talking, holding out the iced tea, taking small steps backward; Shane figured the game was to lead her back into the shadows.

  Cecily followed, slowly, uncertain.