Laura Kaye - Hard As You Can

Something she should try to ignore.

Something she should push away.

Something that could hurt her in ways Bruno’s hands and Church’s possession never could.

Crystal—no, Sara—was very likely falling for Shane McCallan.

Shane ducked through the curtain and held up his phone to the bouncer doing a fortunately piss-poor job of guarding the back of Confessions. “Found it,” he said with a nod. The guy barely acknowledged him, but it was no skin off Shane’s nose, because Crystal had promised she would talk to him.

And that promise had calmed some of the cyclone of rage that had whipped up inside him when he’d seen Crystal run past the curtain after Bruno had manhandled her. Goddamn but it had taken every ounce of discipline he’d ever had to restrain himself from marching back that hall and tearing the big goon off of her. Only the certainty that doing so would’ve been a disaster for their mission and for Crystal had held him in check. Still, the fact that Crystal had said she had no choice but to work here put her relationship with that asshole in a whole new light. And not a good one.

Shane threaded through the growing crowd in the bar, and their table came into view. Except . . . “Where’s E?” he asked as he sat.

“Never a dull moment,” Beckett said as he nodded toward the bar.

Following Beckett’s gaze, Shane found Easy, obviously talking to someone at the bar, but the guy was so big Shane couldn’t see around him. Not that Shane had a lot of room to talk after cutting out to check on Crystal, but they didn’t really have time to chat up the clientele. And then Easy turned and guided someone through the crowd.

Not just anyone. Jenna.

“Oh, fuck a duck,” Shane said under his breath, his scalp prickling. What the hell was she doing here when Crystal had told her explicitly to stay away? Had she actually come to confront Bruno? And, Jesus, the thought of her hanging out alone in a strip club known to traffic young, vulnerable women made Shane want to hurl.

“Charlie Mike,” Marz said, the call sign telling them all to continue mission and basically stay chill. And roger that, because they had to get her ass out of here before she had a chance to confront Bruno or Crystal saw her and freaked out. Both had a higher-than-average likelihood of making tempers and other things go kaboom.

Arm around her shoulder, Easy gave a hopeful motherfucker looming behind Jenna a withering glare and guided her toward their table with all the ease in the world. She went along well enough, but questions and skepticism shone brightly in her blue eyes.

Shane got his first good look at Crystal’s younger sister, at least his first look at her conscious. Wearing black jeans, black Chucks, and an old concert T-shirt gave her a college-grunge-meets-girl-next-door vibe that was drawing attention because it was clearly way the hell out of place for Confessions. And damn if she wasn’t pretty close to a carbon copy of Crystal, except shorter, curvier, and with darker red hair.

“Who’s your friend, E?” Shane said with a false enthusiasm in his voice as he rejoined the group.

“This is Jenna,” Easy said as he offered her his seat. She slipped into it, her expression part curiosity and part recognition that she was maybe in over her head. “She’s just waiting to see her sister, who works here.” Gone was the subdued version of Edward Cantrell they’d seen the past few days. In his place was a totally engaged and deceptively calm man Shane knew was ready to pounce on the first thing that made a wrong step in his—or rather, her—direction.

And Shane approved. Because beyond the trafficking, they didn’t know the whole universe of what Crystal thought made this place unsafe for Jenna. So high alert was the right way to play it.

“I see.” Shane reached his hand across the table. “I’m Shane McCallan, darlin’. Nice to meet you.” Again.

She returned the shake and gave him a weak smile. “Hi. I’m Jenna,” she said, staring at Shane like she was trying to place him.

“Well, hell. While we’re at it, I’m Marz,” he said, extending his hand, too. “And this big ugly lug is Beckett.”

“Ignore him,” Beckett said with a small wave. “His jokes aren’t as funny as his looks.”

For a long moment Jenna traded looks with each of them. “Edward said you all were Crystal’s friends?” she asked, her gaze returning to Shane. “But have we met before?”

“We’ve met,” Shane said, as the girl frowned. And then he decided to just lay it out there, because all the ways her presence could make this situation go bad were eating at his insides. “But you were a little out of it.” Gripping his cowboy hat, Shane continued. “I’m gonna cut right through the crap if that’s okay with you, Jenna. Because I think you know where you’re sitting right now isn’t the safest place and that your sister would be less than happy to see you out here.”

Jenna paled. “She told you about the fight?”

Perfect opening, Shane thought. “Uh, yeah. And we said we’d look out for you in case you really showed up.”

Jenna frowned, and it was an expression filled with equal parts uncomfortable regret and restrained anger. “Well, I wasn’t—” Sucking in a breath, Jenna blanched. The curtains flared, and Bruno surged through.

Shane tamped down his body’s demands for vengeance when panic flashed across Jenna’s face. So she wasn’t here to confront him after all? Because she did not look like someone ready to pick a fight right now. Then what could be so important that she couldn’t wait to talk to Crystal until she returned home?

“Put your hair up under this,” Easy said, handing her his ball cap.

“No, E,” Shane said, passing his cowboy hat across the table. “They’ll make you.”

Jenna whipped her hair into a ponytail and stuffed it under the hat. Easy tilted the brim lower over her face.

“Gentlemen, I’d say we are damn close to overstaying our welcome,” Beckett said in a low voice Shane just made out over the music. Agreed murmurs went around the table.

They rose. And the manager guy appeared out of thin air. “Mr. Morrison?” he said, using the fake name Derek had provided on the credit card. “You’re all set for Friday night. Please just call by five o’clock on Thursday with a head count.”

“You got it.” Marz shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for showing us a good time tonight.”

The man smiled, offered good-byes to the rest of the group, and disappeared as quickly as he’d come. Shane blew out a long breath. Thirty feet separated them from the front door. They started through the crowd in the bar area.

Making sure Marz was still behind him, Shane glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Crystal return to the club floor. From his position bringing up the rear, Marz noticed, too.

Crystal gaped as her eyes shifted from Shane to the woman walking in front of him. Maybe it was the clothes, or the purse, or a lifetime of living with and knowing someone, but Crystal clearly knew who was walking beneath Shane’s hat.

Shane could almost feel Crystal’s desperate urge to bolt across the room and pull her sister into her arms, and he realized that Crystal really had no way of knowing what was going on. Hell, from where she stood, it probably looked damn suspicious.

Just then, Marz put a finger to his lips and, when Crystal’s gaze latched onto the movement, Marz put his thumb to his ear and his pinkie to his mouth, mimicking a phone.

Giving a single small nod, Crystal forced her expression into something a lot more casual. And it was a good thing she did. Because the next moment, Bruiser made a return trip from the bar and marched right up to her.

Every muscle in Shane’s body tensed as Bruno’s hands landed on her skin.

“It’s cool, McCallan. Keep moving,” Marz said with a hand on his back. And then they cleared the door and stepped into the cool of the nighttime air.

“Keep walking,” Shane said from Jenna’s left side, echoing Marz’s words to him. Easy flanked her on the right. What a fubar of a night. From being forced to sit on his hands and watch Crystal’s distress when Bruno kissed her to the surprise of Jenna’s appearance at the club, Shane was on his last nerve.

“But my car’s over there,” Jenna said, pointing down the street.

“What kind is it?” Shane asked, guiding her toward the sidewalk heading in the opposition direction.

“What?” Tucking a loose strand of hair back under the cowboy hat, Jenna frowned.

“What kind?”

Jenna slowed just as they passed a fence that blocked their view of the club. “Why—”

Shane stepped in front of the woman and tipped the cowboy hat back enough to make eye-to-eye. “Look, I’d rather not let you out of my sight until you’re safe and sound at home. If there’s one thing I know about your sister with complete and utter certainty, it’s how much you mean to her. So I’d really rather that nothing happened to you on my watch, and that begins with getting you the hell away from here.”

Crossing her arms, Jenna’s glare softened but remained. “I don’t know you. So I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Scanning the street around their position, Shane crossed his arms, not willing to budge on his position. “Well, I know you, Jenna. I know you have epilepsy and your seizures are worsening. I know you had a grand mal seizure less than twenty-four hours ago and that you shouldn’t be running around dangerous sections of town by yourself. I know you live in the East Side Apartments with your sister and that your parents are gone. And I know your sister’s in trouble, and you’re worried about her.” As he spoke, Shane watched as Jenna’s expressions morphed from rebellious to uncertain. “I’m worried about her, too. And that puts us on the same side. So if you’ll let me take you home so I can assure your sister you’re safe again, I would very much appreciate it.”