Noelle closed her eyes as her stomach churned with more than the aftereffects of the liquor. “So the things I’m starving for aren’t the things I’m supposed to want.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, baby girl,” Lex said, gentle but firm. “Fast, not wrong.”
Except wanting them fast must be wrong, or at least naïve. “Help me understand. What makes it different from all the other things people do?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Lex sat up then, her spine stiff and her dark eyes clouded. “You don’t need him, Noelle. You don’t need anyone, not anymore. You have the gang, and you have yourself. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
Lex sounded as confused as Noelle, and she felt laughter bubbling up. Of course Lex couldn’t understand her question. She lived in a world where all the lines were drawn, where her body and her mind were her own to give. Where giving had some meaning, because she knew how to hold back.
“I was trying to do what I wanted,” Noelle confessed, safe behind the shield of her hands. “But no one can tell, can they? Jasper doesn’t know if I can say no. None of us do, not even me.”
“I think that’s the heart of it,” Lex admitted in a whisper. “Can you say it? You have to find out, for your sake and Jasper’s.”
It wasn’t likely to happen while he was handling her so carefully, but a darker part of Noelle acknowledged that it might be harder to know when he stopped handling her gently. “To him? I don’t know.” She brushed her fingers over Lex’s hip. “Maybe not you, either. I don’t want to say no.”
“Uh-huh.” Lex twined her fingers with Noelle’s. “Is that why you’re hitting on me in Jasper’s bed?”
This time she did laugh, even if the sound made her temples throb. “Only by mistake. The room isn’t spinning anymore, but my head still is. How long until this goes away?”
“An hour or two? Could be all day.”
Noelle fought a whimper at Lex’s gleeful tone. “Nothing makes it better?”
“Not drinking until you pass out is a start.” She urged Noelle over and pulled her close to her chest, one arm curled around her. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay.”
Lex’s warmth against her back made it easy to relax. That was the seductive lure of strength—you could close your eyes and drift, content to trust your safety to someone else’s hands. “I’ll get stronger.”
“I know.”
As long as Lex believed it, Noelle would, too.
Jasper carefully stripped the red plastic from the wire between his fingers. “Want to let me know why we’re not just yanking the blasting caps and hauling ass out of here?”
“Because.” Bren didn’t sound nervous. No, he seemed perfectly at ease with a pair of wire cutters in his hand and a fifty-pound stack of plastic explosives in front of him. “If Trent has his goons check the device before tonight, we want it to look operational.”
Dallas loomed over them, chewing absently on a toothpick as he watched them work. “Guess the girl wasn’t playing you after all, Bren.”
“Told you she wasn’t.”
Jasper hadn’t been so sure. Still wasn’t, truth be told. “How do we know this wasn’t the plan? We get down here early to defuse Trent’s little surprise, only the real surprise is when he blows it up in our faces?”
“We don’t know,” Dallas replied. “Losing your nerve in your old age, son?”
“That tends to happen pretty fast with my balls parked this close to a shit ton of RDX.”
Bren grinned. “He needs those balls for pretty little Noelle.”
“I thought your kitten already had ’em tucked in her pocket.” Dallas laughed and shook his head. “She was showing her claws last night.”
“We worked it out,” Jasper muttered. “I am pissed at you, though. You could have warned me you were serious about Lex maybe wanting to keep Noelle all to herself.”
“The warning was your warning. Lex takes what she wants.”
And Dallas didn’t sound happy about that. Jasper swiped the back of his wrist over his forehead and listened to the trickle of water in the corner of the small, dank basement. “And if they pair off?”
Dallas clenched his teeth around his toothpick. “Then they pair off,” he ground out. “And since they both like dick, some lucky bastard can crawl all up in the middle of it.”
Bren snipped a wire and frowned. “I don’t get why the both of you don’t just head it off. If you’ve shared a woman before, what’s the big deal in making it two?”
Noelle was the big deal. Noelle, who—for all her sensuality and hunger—could still barely wrap her head around the idea of sex, casual or otherwise, with a single partner. The idea of any permanent arrangement with not one but three other people could send her screaming.
Unless she liked the idea.
Jasper shook his head. “Three possessive assholes in a bed is a few too many, especially when you’re only talking about four people total.”
Dallas chuckled. “Says you. To me, it sounds like a party.”
It would be mind-blowing—for a night or two. “Long-term?”
“Maybe. Hell, long-term ain’t the sort of thing you decide without a trial run or ten. And probably not while you’re sitting on a bomb.”
Bren flipped the wire cutters in his hand and held them out to Dallas. “Which we’re not anymore.”
Dallas didn’t ask if he was sure, just took the cutters with a nod. “I want you up high tonight. No matter what goes down, Trent doesn’t walk away from this pretty little trap.”
“You got it.”
Jasper rose. “I’ll send Flash after the explosives later. It’s hard to get your hands on this much of it. Makes you wonder how Trent managed.”
“Someone backed him,” Dallas agreed. “The real question is whether it came from the sectors or straight out of Eden. A couple of those bastard councilmen are clever enough to set us up to kill each other.” His eyes tightened as he met Jasper’s gaze. “Noelle’s father, for starters.”
The hair on the back of Jasper’s neck prickled. “Even if that’s true, it has nothing to do with her.”
“Probably not.” Dallas waved the wire cutters at the bomb. “This? This wasn’t a couple days of planning. Even if it is daddy dearest, it has nothing to do with her—but that doesn’t mean it never will. I knew that when I took her in, but if you care a damn about keeping her safe, you’ll stop falling asleep every time I bring up city politics.”
Burn it all down. Jasper’s blithe, easy answer to the political machinations, the careful dance of offense and defense Dallas lived with every breath. But if it put Noelle in danger...
“I can learn,” Jasper said, hefting the bag of tools they’d brought over his shoulder.
That earned him a searching look, Dallas’s eyebrows drawing together as he flipped the wire cutters over and over in his hand. “Just like that, huh?”
“No, but I’m not stupid. I know what the right answer is.”
Dallas snorted. “It’s always been the right answer. Hasn’t stopped you from telling me to go fuck myself before tonight.”
“Maybe it’s just time.”
“Maybe it is.” Dallas glanced at Bren. “You need time to scope out a good spot, or are we ready to roll?”
He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll be ready.”
“Good. Don’t let that bastard shoot me.”
“Jas won’t let that happen.” He picked up his bag and headed away from the door, deeper into the recesses of the darkened basement, out of sight.
Dallas shook his head. “Someday I’m going to teach that bastard to have a sense of humor.”
“He has one, it’s just massively fucked up and approaching inhuman.” Jasper reached for the wire cutters, shoved them into the tool bag, and stowed the whole thing behind a crate in the corner.
They were almost to the stairs when Dallas stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I wasn’t joking about the blowback we could get if word g
ets around Eden that Cunningham’s youngest daughter is wearing O’Kane ink. Personally, I’d get some sick satisfaction over watching them devour that self-righteous ass…but he could decide to make the embarrassment go away.”
The growl escaped before Jasper could stop it, a surge of rage at the possibility that Noelle could have lost everything and it still wouldn’t be enough for her father. That he might want to ensure her silence. “I’d kill him first. Is that political enough for you?”
Dallas barked out a laugh as he started up the steps. “It’s a start. She’s safe enough for now. After we deal with the current mess, we’ll see about making sure she’s safe for good.”
She already was. His or not, Jasper would make sure she never had to worry about her safety again.
Wilson Trent was a terrible liar. He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from tipping up, and Jasper fought not to roll his eyes. The man couldn’t have been any more transparent if he had a blinking sign above his head: I planted a bomb in the basement.
Dallas was a hell of a lot better at deception. Jasper could have almost believed his impatience and irritation as he checked his watch. “You sure you gave your driver the right address?”
“He’ll be here,” Trent assured him. “Probably had to circle around because of a blocked street.”
“He’d best hurry his ass. I’ve got plans tonight that don’t include dancing with the military police.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, O’Kane.”
The big, blinking sign might as well have come with a klaxon horn. Jasper shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. “You could head on back, Dallas. I’ll stay to make the trade.”
Dallas checked his watch again and sighed. “Maybe I’ll do that. You and Flash can handle the shipment.”
For a moment, Jasper thought Trent might break. Instead, he slammed his hand down on the table. “I don’t send my men to do business for me, and I expect the same courtesy from you.”
Dallas didn’t even crack a smile, just arched one eyebrow and gave Trent the opening he was dying for. “If it’s that fucking important to you, go do your damn business and find out where the truck is.”
The man blinked, though it only took him a second to recover. “Yeah. Yeah, I should do that.” He turned to the two men who’d accompanied him, brand-new faces Jasper had never seen before. “You boys stay here as a show of good faith. I’ll be back in a minute.”
It was forced and overplayed, ridiculous in a dozen ways, not the least of which was that in the three years of their alliance, Jasper had never seen Trent take so much as a casual suggestion from Dallas without turning it into a pissing contest.
Dallas held his annoyed expression. “Fine,” he muttered, turning to study the two men Trent clearly intended to sacrifice. “Make it fast.”
Trent hesitated, as if fixing the scene of his triumph in his mind, then smiled. “Sure thing.” He headed for the door, a shade too fast to be convincingly casual.
The heavy steel slammed behind him with a clang, and Jasper counted off the seconds. One, two, three, with the fourth count splintered by the crack of a rifle shot.
Dallas drew his handgun and leveled it at the man on the left. “That was your boss’s head blowing out. Time to ask yourself whether he’s worth dying over.”
The other man looked like he was going to make a move, so Jasper bared his teeth as he pulled his own pistols free of their holsters. “Don’t.”
For a second, he thought it really would be that easy. But Trent’s men only shared his lack of brains, not his lack of loyalty. The taller of the two kicked a chair toward Dallas and dove out of the way of his first bullet, drawing his gun as he moved. The shorter twisted his hand, and a knife flashed.
The blade zipped through the air. Jasper spun and deflected the knife with his arm, wincing as the sharp edge glanced off skin with a shallow, wicked slice. The man already had another knife ready to throw, so Jasper put two shots in his chest and a third in his head.
When he turned, Dallas was putting the man’s partner down. The final shot echoed through the room, and Dallas glanced toward the door. “Think anyone else will come running? Or are the rest of them holed up somewhere, wondering why this place hasn’t gone up yet?”
“I’d go with the latter.” Jasper put his pistols away and looked down at his arm. A steady stream of blood trickled from the cut, but it was slow enough not to worry him. “Think Trent was smart enough to have a backup plan?”
“Not fucking likely, judging by how he played the rest of it.” Dallas holstered his gun and nodded to Jasper’s arm. “Do we need to bandage that?”
“I’ll get some gel on it. It’ll be fine.”
“Let Noelle patch you up.” Dallas grinned, and it held a feral edge. “I bet she’ll kiss it all better.”
She’d been eager to suck his cock after a cage match. What would she be eager to do after a real fight? Jasper pushed through the door. “Should have let you get banged up a little, then.”
“I’ll tell Lex I almost let some bastard shoot me. She’ll beat me up and kiss it bet—” Dallas stopped cold at the sight of Bren—and Wilson Trent, bound and gagged on the cracked sidewalk. “What the fuck?”
The man was only half-conscious, bleeding from one knee. From the livid marks around his throat, Bren had throttled him pretty good.
The blond man blinked at Dallas now, then gestured to Trent. “Thought I’d take him back with us. He’s someone else’s kill.”
Dallas’s confusion melted into narrow-eyed disbelief. “The girl?”
Bren slipped a hunting knife from the sheath on his leg and dragged Trent’s head back by his hair. “If it’s a problem—”
“No.” Dallas waved the offer away. “Fuck, she earned it, if she wants it. If not, you clean up.”
Right on schedule, Flash pulled to a stop at the corner and climbed from behind the wheel of the truck. Three dead men, and a messy plot foiled. By the end of the night, word would spread through all eight sectors—Trent had tried to fuck Dallas, and now he was dead.
Whether that would spell the end or the very beginning of their troubles was anyone’s guess.
Six
The last time Six had seen Wilson Trent, she’d been bound and gagged, bruised and bloodied, her pride stripped away and her future in jeopardy.
This moment had a certain symmetry, which was the first thing she’d found amusing in over a year. She lifted her gaze from the half-dead body to the man who’d brought him. Brendan Donnelly was solidly built, with just enough flesh over hard muscle to hide how much of it there was until he flexed, or wrestled you into submission, or dumped a six-foot man at your feet.
He watched her, waiting for a reaction with an air of anticipation that had her shivering. “I don’t understand. Does Dallas want me to kill him as a test of loyalty or something?” If so, it was a damn shitty one. Most of Trent’s men would have stabbed him in the back for fun.
The corner of Bren’s mouth quirked up. “That’d be stupid. Dallas isn’t stupid.” He held out a knife, his fingers light on the blade and the handle pointing toward her. “I figure this one’s yours, that’s all.”
She could snatch it from his hand and sink it between his ribs. In her fantasies, at least—and maybe his, too, judging from the way he watched her sometimes, as if he liked the idea of her being as dangerous as he was.
Fantasies were the only place she was dangerous. He’d stop her before she grazed the blade across his skin, but apparently he’d let her take that same knife and sink it into Wilson Trent’s traitorous excuse for a heart.
Still, she didn’t reach for it. “No tricks?”
“No tricks.”
Six nudged Trent’s leg with her boot. “Untie him.”
Bren didn’t move, only waved the knife at her. “You do it.”
She curled her fingers around the hilt. It was heavier than she’d expected, the blade itself nearly half a foot long. Tre
nt choked out a muffled protest and squirmed back, and Six felt the first stirrings of satisfaction as she sliced through the ropes.
Fear before death was too good for him. He’d taught her that there were worse things than fear. Things like hope. “Get up.”
“Fuck you,” he rasped.
She planted a boot in his side. “Get up, bastard. Get up and fight. I thought you liked hitting me.”
He lunged up on one knee and grabbed for the knife. Fast, but not fast enough. She slammed her knee into his face, reveling in the crunch of bone as his nose broke. “Take this,” she snarled at Bren, thrusting the knife at him.
“You sure?” But he was already reaching for the blade.
“I’m sure.”
When Trent rocked up, she smashed her fist into his jaw. Pain splintered through her hand and up her arm, and she relished it. Relished the faint hope in Trent’s eyes, as stupid and reckless as it was. He’d fixate on the fact that she was unarmed, see her as the victim he’d made her, and somewhere in his sick fucking skull, he’d think he had a chance.
She’d beat the hope right back out of him, like he’d done to her, and then he could die.
Chapter Thirteen
Her heart in her throat, Noelle shoved through the door to Dallas’s bedroom and nearly moaned her relief at seeing Jasper on his feet, more or less whole. Bring the med kit to my room was all Dallas had told her before wheeling off in search of Lex, and the five minutes it had taken her to collect the first aid supplies and traverse the maze of corridors to the large suite had been among the longest in recent memory.
But she was here now, and he was alive. “Jasper? Are you hurt?”
He held up his arm. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”
An odd piece of furniture sat a few feet in front of her, one that looked like two padded leather benches connected back-to-back, so they faced in opposite directions. She set the med kit down on the shared back and lifted the cover. “Sit and let me look at it. I’m not very good, but I know how to use gel and bandages.”
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