by Kit Rocha
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 and 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 bo
ttom 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?"
Ace stared at him.
He stared back. "Is there a problem?"
"Fuck, you tell me." He lifted the plate. "She was about to toddle her terrified ass over here with fresh cookies. Should I have let her?"
"No. Hell, no." The point of the instrument was simple. He could fulfill Finn's request with a minimum of personal effort—or contact. Even if he wanted to look out for Lili in a more hands-on capacity, this was the worst possible time to do it. "Finn asked me to help her, but this is all I can manage."
"Finn asked…" Ace trailed off with a sigh and dropped his head back against the couch. "He got his guilt all over you, huh?"
"He seems to have plenty of it." Jared reached for a bottle—one of Nessa's best, an exquisite single-malt—and poured out two healthy measures.
"Yeah, well, Lili was pretty messed up. I was there when she showed up on the compound." Ace accepted the glass but didn't drink. "Did anyone tell you what she did?"
"I didn't ask."
"Nah, you just bought her a piano."
Jared pinned him with a quelling look. "It didn't cost me much." Far less, in fact, than investing his concern in a lost girl from Sector Five.
Ace relented by raising his glass. "I guess to you, much is pretty damn relative."
"Very." If Ace could relent, so could he, just a little. "I feel bad for her, of course I do. But I don't have the time or the energy to save someone, Ace. That's what you O'Kanes are for."
"Honestly, I don't think she'd appreciate saving." Ace swirled the liquor in the glass and squinted at it before taking a sip. "Goddamn, you got Nessa to sell you one of her experimental batches? She won't even let me have one."
Dallas had given it to him—part gift and part payment—when he'd joined up. "I'm a persuasive man."
"You better not be persuading in her pants," Ace retorted with a not-entirely-mock growl. "She's a kid."
Jared didn't resent the suspicion. It always came down to sex. That was his life, his livelihood, and Ace knew that better than anyone. "I've been good, brother."
Ace took another sip before poking at the plate of cookies. "Do you remember how Gia was in the beginning? Not right after Eladio found her, but once he'd gotten her cleaned up and in control of herself."
Still a bit feral, but she'd managed to lock it down. Hard, because she'd believed she had to be that way in order to survive. "I remember."
"That's what Lili reminds me of. Damned if I even know why, because that girl should be a sheltered little sector princess…" He trailed off and glanced up at Jared. "She shot a guard in the face and walked out of Five. In a virginal nightgown and a fucking fur coat covered in blood."
"So she knows how to survive. Wants to." O'Kane could work with that, the same way Eladio had with Gia in those early years.
"She knows how to stay alive. Fuck, that's all she knows."
"It's the first step. The most important one." Everything else could take years. Decades. Hell, sometimes he wasn't entirely sure he'd ever made it past that point himself.
"I guess, man." Ace tilted his head toward the plate. "You should try the cookies. Rachel says she really can cook, and she likes it. That'd be new. If you ask Six to cook for you, there's a fifty-fifty shot she'll stab you."
"Maybe later." He drained his glass and squinted at his oldest friend. He'd been keeping his distance for fear of having Ace discover his clandestine activities, but he worried that
distance might seem more personal. "How have you been?"
"Good." Ace rested a hand over his side. Jared had seen the scar there—smaller than it should have been, thanks to regeneration technology, but the wound that had almost killed Ace had been too serious to erase entirely. "Emma's gonna fix up my ink in a couple weeks. Well, do what she can anyway. I don't even feel a twinge anymore."
"What about your marks?" Rachel's were visible to the world, curving lines of ink framing her throat in obvious symbolism. "Have you and Cruz had yours done yet?"
Ace finished his drink and rose with a grin. "Oh, yeah," he drawled, dragging his shirt over his head. "Emma fucking nailed it."
He turned, revealing the newly inked expanse of his back. He'd always guarded that skin jealously, refusing to have needles touch it until the perfect image presented itself.
And it had. Two angels—one sweet, and one clad in a warrior's garb—covered each side of his back. They were both grasping on to a poor, fallen soul between them, lifting him out of the flames that covered the small of Ace's back.
A spark of jealousy raced through Jared, quick and hot and extinguished in a heartbeat by his sincere appreciation for his friend's newfound bliss. "I'm happy for you. They're beautiful."
"Yeah. They are." Ace dropped back to the couch without putting on his shirt. "Cruz wanted me to invite you over to catch up, but Rae's taken a shine to Lili. Will that get awkward? I mean, even if it's just a piano to you…"
If she got ideas about some grand romance, he'd handle it. But, somehow, he didn't think the wide-eyed girl from Dallas's party was eager to throw herself at him. "It'll be fine. Thanks for thinking of me."
"So you'll come over?"
"Name the time." Jared refilled his glass and lifted an eyebrow at Ace. "Another?"
"Hell, yeah. Nessa never shares." Ace leaned over and held out his glass. "You think maybe we could crash in on Gia? I'm not going alone—she's been fucking pissy since Dallas stole Jeni."
"On his stage and in his bed," Jared agreed. "Which one upsets our darling Gia more?"
"Like I ever know for sure. I think she wanted Jeni for the business." Ace shrugged. "She's in a mood, though. Has been since Tatiana's shop burned down."
