Hard as You Can (35 page)

“Sorry,” Nick said. “It’s cool, Ike.”

Ike’s gaze scanned the group and landed on Crystal, tucked under Shane’s arm. “Everything okay here?” he asked. And that measured response to Beckett’s aggression and the hard-edged tension rolling off of all of them earned Ike a measure of respect in Shane’s book. The guy was tight and levelheaded. He hadn’t flown off the handle where a lot of tough guys might’ve.

“We had a bit of a situation,” Nick said.

Ike tilted his head and nailed Nick with a stare. “What’s going on?” He gestured at the group with the hand holding the helmet. “I’m not getting much of an old-friends-setting-up-a-new-business vibe here,” he said, referring to the cover story they’d told earlier in the week.

“Yeah.” Nick raked a hand through his hair. “About that.”

“You have something you need to say, Nick? Because I’m sensing some shit is going down for you. And that makes me concerned about blowback for Jeremy. Does he even know?” Ike shifted feet, growing agitation clear in his posture and the tone of his voice.

“He knows,” Nick said. “Turns out I brought some ghosts home with me from Afghanistan. Ghosts by the names of WEC and Jimmy Church. Mean anything to you?”

Ike braced his hands on his hips. “You gotta be shitting me. You’re on the wrong side of Church? That crazy motherfucker thinks he’s some kind of second coming of Christ.”

“So you know him?” Shane asked, his instinct sitting up and taking notice of Ike’s hostility. Maybe there was an opportunity here. An enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend kinda thing.

“Yeah, I know him.” Scrubbing a hand over his bald head, Ike turned and paced, shaking his head and cussing a blue streak under his breath.

“He’s a Raven,” Crystal said, lifting her head off Shane’s chest and staring at the back of Ike’s cutoff denim jacket. A big black, white, and red patch of a raven perched on a skull with a knife through the eye socket covered his back. In black letters above and below, the patch read,

RAVEN RIDERS
MARYLAND

Smaller lettering above the state name read, “Death on Wheels.”

Ike pivoted, and his gaze cut straight to her. “Yeah. What of it?”

Shane tugged Crystal tighter against him, not appreciating the ice in Ike’s tone being directed as her.

She held out a hand meant to appease. “Churchmen hate Ravens,” she said. “Right?”

“Feeling’s mutual,” he bit out. “Has been for years.”

“So you don’t have to worry,” she said, looking up at Shane. “Ravens don’t get in bed with Churchmen. Ever.” This woman was smart, savvy, strong. So much to respect about her, and Shane knew he’d only scratched the surface. Her being able to confirm Ike’s independence from Church was a huge load off the team’s shoulders. Tension deflated from the air.

Ike chuffed out a laugh. “Lady knows what she’s talking about.”

A cell phone rang. Crystal gasped. “Oh, my God,” she cried. “What if that’s Jenna?” Shaking, she tore open her purse and removed the iPhone. The name on the caller ID read
Bruno Ashe.
“What do I do?” she asked, wide eyes flashing to Shane.

“It’s Bruno,” he said loud enough that the team knew what was going down. As everyone gathered closer round, including Ike, Shane cupped Crystal’s cheek. “Answer it on speaker so we can hear. You’ll do fine.”

“Hold up.” Marz held out his phone with the camera set to video recording. Smart thinking. Now they’d have the audio to play back just in case.

“Go ahead,” Shane said, nodding.

Crystal answered the call. “Bruno,” she said, her voice audibly shaken.

“Missing anything, baby?” he said, so smug and almost gleeful that Shane wanted to dive through the phone and tears his balls off by reaching down the asshole’s throat.

“What did you do with Jenna?” she asked. “She doesn’t have her meds, Bruno.”

“Oh, you mean the ones I’ve been paying for the past four years. And how did you repay me for that generosity?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, hugging herself tight. The fear and pleading in her voice made Shane bleed for her. His chest felt on fire inside.

“Who’s the guy?” he nearly growled.

Her eyes flashed to Shane’s. He nodded and mouthed, “Doing good.”

“What guy?” she said.

Bruno made a sound like a growl. “Don’t play me, Crystal. The guy with the fucking prepaid. The one I found under my desk. Interesting place in its own right, don’t you think?”

How in the world had Crystal lost the burn phone in Bruno’s office? Unease crawled down Shane’s spine.

“A friend. Just a friend,” she said, pressing her hand to her face. Shane surveyed the group and found rage and disgust on every face. He was glad they had his back in this fubar. And hers.

“Did you fuck him?”

“What? No. You know I haven’t,” she said. What a fucking piece of trash this guy was. How the
hell
had Crystal ever gotten tied up with him? But Crystal was a class act and didn’t take his bait. “Bruno, where’s Jenna? The stress of this could cause a seizure. Why would you do this to her?”

“Eh, it already has.” Shane felt Crystal’s distressed gasp in his gut. “She’s out of it. Oh, and I put her up in your
favorite room.
”

What the hell did that mean?

The blood rushed out of Crystal’s face, and she swayed. Shane caught her against his side as she moaned. “What? Bruno, no. Please.”

“
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.”