by Kit Rocha
He looked at her—no, past her, his gaze gliding by without a glimmer of recognition before snapping back to her face. His brow crinkled, and he straightened the hem of his jacket. "Noelle. I didn't recognize you."
She didn't know what to call him. Sir was an honor she wouldn't give him, not anymore, but she'd never called him anything more familiar. She'd never been permitted to.
No greeting, then. Squaring her shoulders, she faced him with only her deathly grip on the dishtowel to betray her fear. "I wouldn't have expected to see you here."
"I've been looking for you."
Not very hard, obviously. "I've been here since the day I was banished."
His jaw tightened. "I didn't know where here was."
"Fine." It wasn't worth arguing about, so she changed the subject. "Why do you care?"
The question seemed to take him aback. "Because I'm here to take you home. Your mother and I—we want you to come home."
It was so unexpected, so impossible, that for a moment Noelle could do nothing but stare at him. He stared back, the perfect picture of polite surprise—and even here, in the sector slums, he might as well have been playing for the vids.
Anger took root, and she gave it voice for the first time in her life. "Why? I'm ruined. Damaged beyond repair. You'll never find a man in Eden who would agree to marry me."
He looked away. "Your citizenship will be reinstated, and you'll be free to live in Eden again. Isn't that enough?"
An answer that wasn't an answer at all. "Why?"
Edwin—she could barely think of him as her father anymore—huffed out a disgusted noise. "Why is why a question, Noelle? What's the alternative? You can't stay here."
She wanted more than anything to throw the word at him again, to taunt and prod at him, but that was the impulse of a child, not a woman. "I can stay right where I am," she said instead, keeping her voice as even as possible. "And I intend to."
He held out his hand, and one of the guards pressed a tablet into it. "Even if Mr. O'Kane contacted me about your presence here?"
"He wouldn't," she said without thinking, but the words were ash on her tongue before the sound died. Last night's guilt roared back to life, and she knew she'd been right. The bullets had been meant for her. Her father knew it, Dallas knew it...
Jasper probably knew it.
He'd never come to find her. Maybe he hadn't wanted to say goodbye.
"It would serve everyone's purposes." Edwin's voice gentled. "Come home, Noelle. Your mother misses you."
Home. Her empty room with its endless trinkets, physical luxury and unending leisure. Hot showers and baths that never cooled, no matter how long you lingered. Soft lighting from every surface. Sheets changed every morning by silent servants.
Never being touched. Never feeling. No pain, no pleasure, just the anesthesia of safety.
Her lips were numb already. "Let me see," she whispered. "Let me see what he said."
Edwin passed her the tablet, and she looked down at the white screen with its sparse black type. I'm willing to discuss arrangements.
The words could mean anything. That Dallas wanted her gone, that he was willing to barter her for Lex's safety. And he would, if it came down to it—Noelle didn't question that for a moment—but Lex would never forgive him. She wouldn't have agreed to pack Noelle off to the city.
Of course, the words really could mean anything. Maybe she wasn't giving Dallas enough credit. She wore his ink now, and loyalty went both ways.
And Edwin had always told lies with the truth.
Fixing her expression, she handed the tablet back to him. "Doesn't say anything about me."
Instead of arguing, he nodded. "I thought you might take some convincing. Will you at least think about it?"
"About coming back?" She tossed the towel on the nearest table and spread her arms wide, showing off the black tattoos circling each wrist and forearm. "I'm an O'Kane, ink and all, and I like it here. What can you offer me?"
"Safety," he said immediately. "You won't be getting shot at anymore. Neither will..." He consulted the tablet again. "Jasper McCray?"
Fear twisted in her gut, but it was the look in his eyes that made her blood run cold. He knew. She shouldn't have been surprised—Dallas O'Kane's right-hand man and Edwin Cunningham's daughter together made for good gossip no matter which side of the city walls you called home—but she still felt exposed, as if he'd peeled back her carefully donned armor to find her weakest spot.
"You're a cold-blooded bastard," she told him, her thrill of defiance weakened by how hard her hands shook. She shoved them in her pockets to hide it and lifted her voice. "Get out."
"Noelle..."
"Get out."
The door opened, and Zan stuck his head inside. "Everything all right, Noelle?"
"It's fine," she said, not taking her gaze from her father's. She wouldn't let him see her flinch. "He's just leaving."
No, she wouldn't let him see her fear.
"All right." Zan pushed the door all the way open, very deliberately bumping it into one of the bodyguards. "Sorry, man."
Her father was still watching her, and all Noelle wanted was to get rid of him. "I'll think about it, but only if you leave now."
He relented, but not without a pointed look. "I'll be in touch. Soon."
Zan closed the door behind the bodyguards, and Noelle groped for the nearest chair. Her knees wobbled as she collapsed more than sat, the air rushing from her lungs with an explosive sigh.
Trix appeared at her elbow with a shot glass, her green eyes sympathetic. "Here. It's the good stuff." The redhead set the glass on the table and squeezed Noelle's shoulder. "Sounded like you might need it."
"I do, thanks."
"No problem." Trix retreated, and Noelle lifted the glass and stared at the richly colored liquid. The whiskey was the blood of the O'Kanes, their first and best product. Nessa had promised to show her how it was made, to explain the process in as much detail as Noelle wanted, but she hadn't made the time yet.
Maybe she'd never get the chance, now.
"You should think about it."
Jasper's voice, and her heart still thrilled at the rumbling tone though the full meaning of his words destroyed her calm. "So you were listening."
He stepped out of the shadows by the stage, his arms crossed over his chest. "I heard part of his pitch."
He'd listened in silence, in hiding, while her father twisted a verbal knife in search of a weak spot. Worse, he'd listened…and he agreed.
Even at her lowest moments this morning, she hadn't imagined anything could hurt as much as those words. You should think about it.
She drained the shot glass and slammed it down on the table. "You want me to go back to Eden?"
"It doesn't have anything to do with what I want," he whispered. "It has to do with what's true. What's right."
The front door clicked open. She turned in time to see Trix duck outside with Zan, leaving the bar as empty of distractions as it was witnesses. No one would save her from this moment, from the words she didn't want to hear.
Still staring at the front door, she cleared her throat. "Is Dallas getting rid of me because I got Lex shot?"
"No." Jasper lifted her arm, sweeping his thumb over her wrist. "He wouldn't do that."
The ink. The promise. Dark laughter spilled free of her as she shook her head. "Yes, he would. Because it's Lex."
"Because it's Lex." Jasper released her with a sigh. "Everything is dangerous out here. That's just life in the sectors."
"Then why?" Noelle asked, rubbing at her wrist to banish the tingles from his touch. It wasn't fair that he could stir her body now, when his words chilled her. "If Dallas isn't trying to get rid of me, why are you?"
He took a step back. Away. "We tracked down the guy who shot you. Alistair Martel. Bren's friend brought him back last night. You knew that, right?"
She nodded.
"Dallas killed him. Not fast, just so he wouldn't be a dang
er. Slow." Jasper swallowed hard. "He beat him to death with a pair of brass knuckles. Caved the motherfucker's face in. I don't know how many busted bones he had, but he felt like a bag full of broken glass when Bren and I went to move him."
Her stomach lurched. Not only at the mental image, which was unsettling enough, but at the dizzy vertigo of trying to reconcile that brutality with the man who'd collapsed into bed with them last night and stroked Lex's hair until she slept.
Swallowing, she fixed her gaze on the table. "You already said it—that's life in the sectors. I'll get used to it."
"Except that you're not like everyone else, Noelle. You're not stuck here. You don't have to get used to it."
She forced herself to meet his eyes. "You're here." The admission stripped her raw. He wasn't fighting for her, so she couldn't add the rest. You're worth it.
It was the wrong thing to say. His eyes shuttered, and he shook his head. "This shit with Trent... We're going to war, sweetheart. I've never left a woman alone at home, wondering if she'd ever see me in one piece again, and I can't start now. Not with you."
"Not with me," she echoed. Soft words to let her down easy. You're special, they lied, blunting the truth. The heartbreaking, horrifying truth.
You're special...but not enough.
Her eyes burned, but she knew how to hide tears, how to swallow around the lump in her throat until her voice came out smooth and even, empty like Eden. "All right."
"All right." His voice was as dark as hers was light. As full and heavy as hers was blank. "You'll be safer this way. When you stop thinking I'm an asshole, you'll see. You'll—" He broke off with another step back. "You'll see."
Then he turned and stomped through the back exit.
A scream built in Noelle's chest, the need to give voice to her pain so intense that she dug her nails into her wrist until the prick of broken skin dispersed some of the pressure.
He'd walked away. He'd made his choice.
Noelle dropped both hands to the table and stared at the crescent-shaped cuts on her wrist. Blood and ink, black and red. She'd bisected one of the swooping vines encircling the O'Kane logo, and it seemed fitting somehow.
Maybe ink wasn't permanent after all.
Lex
She watched, almost shaking with rage, as Noelle shoved another stack of shirts into a cardboard box. "Tell me you know Jasper's an idiot," she demanded. "I mean, you're not actually packing your shit, are you?"
"Jasper's not an idiot." Noelle picked up a pair of jeans and smoothed out the wrinkles. "He's an asshole."
"Exactly. That's why you can't listen to a damn word he says."
"I know." She wet her lips and finally met Lex's eyes. "I don't know how to say this. I don't want you to take it the wrong way, because I appreciate everything you've done for me. You've helped me so much."
Oh Christ, she was leaving. "Uh-uh. You are too strong to puss out on me now, baby girl."
"I'm not." Once the jeans were folded and placed in the box, Noelle smiled. "I told Dallas that if I'm a full member and not just Jasper's stray pet, I deserve my own quarters. He agreed."
"Oh." Lex wrapped an arm around one bedpost and sank to the mattress. "Why would that offend me?"
Noelle's smile twitched wider. "If I stay here, I'll feel like your stray pet. I need to be on my own for a little while, I think. I need to know what it's like."
"I get that." Crawling into Lex's bed every night was the last thing that would help Noelle stand on her own feet. "I'm bossy, but you don't have to let me be. You can go your own way."
"I like it when you're bossy. I think that's the hard part." Noelle returned to the closet for two of the leather skirts Lex had helped her choose at the market. "You were right. I have to get better at saying no before yes means anything. Maybe if I'd tried it out on Jasper earlier..." She shrugged and looked back to the closet. "It probably wouldn't have mattered."
The pain was a tangible thing, stabbing at Lex until she wanted to stab it back. She stepped up behind Noelle and slipped her arms around her. "It doesn't always work out the way we thought, but the fact that we're able to fuck up in the first place... You're free. It's not nothing."
"I'm free." The words sounded thick, but the ones that followed were tiny and hurt, a vulnerable whisper from a heartbroken woman. "He didn't fight for me. Not even a little."
Lex was pissed as hell at Jasper, and the last thing she wanted to do was defend his sorry ass. And yet. "Maybe he thought he was," she ventured quietly.
Noelle stiffened. "By sending me back there?"
"Come on, honey. We got shot. I know Dallas lost his shit, and he's not even—" Lex sucked in a breath and turned Noelle to face her. "That kind of situation can make people crazy. It doesn't mean Jasper was right, or that his dumbass behavior isn't beyond-the-pale stupid. But it does mean you have to try to look at it from his point of view, if only to understand."
"We got shot," Noelle agreed, her voice as numb as her eyes. "You got shot, and it was my fault. That's why I almost went back."
"That's ridiculous, and if you say it again, I'll spank your ass," Lex told her fiercely. "Someone could be gunning for me every time I walk out that door. Why do you think Dallas wants to lock me up all the time? It's a fucking jungle wasteland out there—and I wouldn't give it up for anything."
Noelle blew out a breath, and some of the chilling emptiness in her eyes filled in with wry, sad humor. "That's what Dallas said. Mostly."
"Which part? The locking me up or the danger?"
"Both." She wrinkled her nose. "I told him I was worried about putting you in danger again. He said you'd never forgive either of us if I made that my reason, and he wasn't going to let me hurt you like that."
"Score one for Dallas." And for the tentative peace they'd forged.
"He was...blunt." Noelle tossed the skirts she was holding onto the bed and shrugged one shoulder. "Edwin—my father—offered to help him deal with the man who hired the sniper, but only if Dallas sent me back. I made the choice."
"Hopefully it was to tell your father to fuck off and give Dallas all the damning details you know about Gareth Woods."
"More or less. I think it'll be easier to do now that Woods tried to have me killed."
"It always is." An inescapable fact of life in the sectors. Lex picked up another shirt and began to fold it. "Fuck Jasper. I know you want him like burning, honey, but you don't need him. You've got your job, your ink. Your family."
"You." Noelle caught her up in a hug, clinging desperately. "God, Lex. I need my own space, but I still need you."
Even more heartbreaking than the palpable pain was the way tears thickened Noelle's voice. "You have me. I'm right here, whatever you need. I'm not going anywhere."
"Okay. I'm okay." A lie, and when Noelle lifted her head, the tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks as quickly as she could wipe them away. "It's good that it hurts, right? That I can feel."
"Yeah." Lex smoothed the hair back from Noelle's damp face. "I know it's not a lot of comfort right now, but the bad reminds you just how good everything else is. You've got to have both."
Noelle nodded. "I can. I will. He's not the only man out there, right?"
She spoke the words, the right ones, but she didn't believe them, and Lex bit her lip against all the empty reassurances. Hell, she'd offer Dallas if only it would ease Noelle's pain, melt that lonely look in her eyes. "Plenty of men, and plenty of time."
"And I've got lots to do to keep busy." Noelle scooped up one of Lex's shoes, a towering five-inch heel she wore on stage. "You're still going to teach me, right?"
"To dance?" A sudden thought occurred to Lex—an utterly wrong, plain old evil thought. "Actually...I'll go you one better, honey."
Both of Noelle's eyebrows swept up, and finally something replaced the pain and sadness in her eyes—curiosity. "Better?"
"Better." Lex grinned slowly. "I'm gonna make you a fucking star."
Chapter Twenty
At least Noelle had the night off.
Jasper threw back another whiskey and banged his glass on the table. "You're slow with the refills tonight, Mad."
"You're quick with the drinking." Maddox tossed his hair out of his eyes and paused to flash a rakish grin at the next table over. The women—groupies Jasper had seen a dozen times before—giggled and ducked their heads together, whispering behind their hands. Satisfied, Mad slopped whiskey into Jasper's glass and topped off the others as well. "Pace yourself, or you'll be drooling drunk before Ace is."
Ace made a crude gesture. "Bite me."
"I'm not looking to get that drunk," Jasper groused. It might be easy, but it was also weak. There wasn't a damn thing about his situation that wasn't of his own making, and he didn't deserve to run from it.
She'd stayed. The damn woman had stood in this very room, looked at him and said, "Okay." Okay to the end of them, okay to going back to the safety of Eden. Okay.
And then she'd stayed.
If that wasn't a giant fuck you, he didn't know what was.
Ace planted his elbow none too gently in Jasper's side. "Brother, if you glare at the table any harder, it's gonna piss itself."
Jasper elbowed him back. "I'd be happy to glare at you instead."
"At least it'd be progress." Ace sighed. "Come on, man, you've got to do something. Live life. Get in a fight. Find some fucking pussy."
Jasper drained half the liquor in his glass. "Not all of us run at full-bore manwhore all the time like you. We work and sleep sometimes too."
"Whoring was only one of the options," Ace muttered. "But fuck it. Whatever, keep brooding."
Mad took a swig directly from the whiskey bottle. "You've got shit for tact, Ace."
