Hard as You Can (15 page)

“Hey, whose bike?” Shane asked, nodding to the big black-and-steel beauty parked between his truck and Nick’s black Challenger. Hadn’t seen it back here before.

“Ike’s,” Nick said. “He belongs to a motorcycle club.”

Beckett came to a halt as his gaze narrowed on the motorcycle. “An actual social club or an MC?” he said.

“What’s the diff?” Marz asked.

“MCs often engage in organized crime to support their members. They’re big businesses,” Beckett said, his blue eyes going frosty. Shane turned a hard stare at Nick. Beckett owned a private security firm in D.C. and was never easily ruffled, so the big guy’s concern was enough to fuel Shane’s own.

“Oh goody. The Church gang on wheels,” Marz said, echoing Shane’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Nick said, nodding. “There are several here in the city. I encounter them every once in a while serving papers. Ike’s group is an MC, but he keeps his club business separate from his work at Hard Ink.”

Beckett braced his hands on his hips and glared at Nick. “And you didn’t think to mention this? Is Ike something we need to worry about? Because we need problems from another direction like Noah needed more rain.”

Nick shook his head, his expression and stance relaxed. “No. Ike’s a good guy. Loyal to Jeremy. I’ve known him for a while, and I’m telling you it’s not a problem—”

“All the same,” Marz said. “I’d like to run some checks on Ike and this club when we get back.” Beckett crossed his arms and nodded. Shane couldn’t have agreed more.

“Fair enough,” Nick said, opening the rear passenger door of Beckett’s SUV for Becca. Then he, Marz, Beckett, and Easy piled into the big beast, too. Shane was riding solo so he could make Crystal’s in time. As he backed out of his space, he gave the motorcycle a last look. Nick had better be right about Ike. Last thing they needed was a threat from within.

On the drive to the park, anticipation of seeing Crystal again had Shane’s pulse beating a little faster, a little harder. He was walking on a knife’s edge where she was concerned, between the team’s need to use her for information and his own growing interest in her well-being.

As a rule, Shane didn’t pursue women romantically just to get intel. A wink and a flirtatious smile. Sure. He excelled at that, and it was harmless. But even in the field, he’d refused to seriously lead a woman on as a means of gaining access to info. It crossed a line for him he couldn’t stomach, maybe because of what’d happened to Molly. Who the hell knew. If that made him a less effective soldier, it also made him a better person. He believed that to his core.

Shane thought through everything that’d happened since he’d met Crystal at Confessions. He was attracted, no question. He was intrigued, without a doubt. So, he
was
interested. Whether he could act on that interest was one big question, and whether his interest in her conflicted with the team’s agenda was another. And he didn’t yet know the answer to either.

Within fifteen minutes, they’d made it to Patterson Park, a dozen-blocks-long square of green in the middle of the neighborhood east of downtown where Becca lived. Shane wasn’t sure what she’d said to convince her friend to meet her here versus her house, or the hospital, or any of a dozen other places he suspected might’ve been less unusual, but since the guy had agreed, that was all that mattered.

Near the edge of the park closest to Becca’s house, the team took up positions around the Pagoda, a hundred-year-old tower inspired by Asian architecture that stood at the edge of a wide field.

Easy, Marz, and Beckett took cover farther away, providing a perimeter, and the rest of them waited on the steps of the building. Despite the sunny spring afternoon, they were largely alone. In the distance, a group of sun-worshippers lay on blankets and on a far sidewalk, someone jogged with a baby stroller, but otherwise they had the privacy they’d wanted for this conversation.

About five minutes later, a man walked up the sidewalk that led from the street to the Pagoda. Everything about his body language and demeanor was open and straightforward, and he smiled and waved as soon as he saw Becca.

She jogged down the steps, and Nick stuck to her like white on rice. “Hey, Murph,” she called. “Thanks for coming.”

“Becca. How you doing? How you feeling?” he said, coming up to her and giving her a hug.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Let me introduce you to some friends and explain why I asked you to come,” she said. “Murphy Jones, this is my boyfriend, Nick,” she said. “Nick, Murphy.”

Nick shook the guy’s hand, a serious, appraising look on his face. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.”

Becca waved Shane closer. “And this is Shane, Nick’s best friend and a former Army medic.” As they exchanged greetings, Shane took stock of the man. Tall, thin, with short brown hair, probably late thirties. He made eye contact and was completely relaxed in his posture. Nothing about him seemed shifty or uncomfortable, leading Shane’s gut to side with Becca’s instincts that the man was probably trustworthy.

Remained to be seen how he would react to their requests, though. Because they were on the wrong side of crazy, especially if this guy happened to be a fan of strict adherence to rules.

Becca didn’t hold anything back. “I’m in trouble, Murphy. And so is my brother.”

The relaxed expression dropped from Murphy’s face. “What kind of trouble? Wait. Is this related to what happened to you in the ER last week?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s a very long and complicated story, but here’s what I can tell you. My father was an officer in the Army and died in Afghanistan last year.”
Along with a lot of other, better men,
Shane thought, anger stirring in his gut.

“I remember,” he said, frowning.

“He was apparently into something he shouldn’t have been, and, long story short, people are now after me and my brother Charlie because of it. Bad people.”

Murphy’s gaze bounced between the three of them, then returned to Becca. “Holy . . . shit. Why can’t you go to the—”

“Police? Because we have evidence that some of the police are in on it. And apparently at least somebody at the hospital, because the guy that tried to grab me had access, an ID, and knew when I was working.”

If the story she’d told so far didn’t chase this guy off, Shane was going to be impressed. Even summarized, it sounded nuttier than a squirrel turd at a peanut festival.

For a long moment, Murphy pressed his fingers to his mouth. “Okay. Jesus. Why did you want to see me, then? How do I fit into all of this?”

“I need to ask you the biggest, craziest favor.”

He blew out a breath like he was girding himself. “Okay, ask. We’ve known each other a long time now. If I can help, you know I will.”

Shane’s gaze made a three-sixty sweep around them. Everything was still quiet.

“I need you to examine my brother and help treat him.” She and Shane ran down the list of his injuries with a bare-bones explanation of how they’d happened. Murphy asked some questions that they took turns answering.

“Long story short, he needs surgical intervention,” Shane said, because the guy might as well know the whole of what they wanted from him. “We were hoping we could use your rig for what essentially amounts to field surgery.” As he spoke, Murphy’s face paled.

“Shit,” he said, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were full of questions. “Why can’t you take him to another hospital?”

“Because his wounds are too suspicious,” Becca said. “And this situation is so dire I don’t honestly know who I can trust.” And those were just some of the reasons.

“But you trust me?” Murphy asked.

Becca smiled. “I do. But I know I’m asking a lot . . . probably too much. I just don’t know what else to do, and Charlie’s running out of options.” That was the damn truth. Worse, Charlie didn’t have the time for them to stand around and dissect this from every angle.

The guy crossed his arms and stared off across the field.

Shane made eye contact with Nick and saw reflected back at him the same pessimism Shane felt. Sympathetic as he seemed, Murphy’s questions and hesitation made his doubts clear. Not that Shane blamed him, but they didn’t have the time to try to convince him, either.

After a minute, Murphy turned back to them. “You’re asking me to provide care beyond my training in a setting not totally suited for that care and using hospital equipment without proper accounting or payment.”

“In a nutshell,” Nick said, as Shane nodded.

Becca sighed. “Pretty much. I wouldn’t ask if my brother—”

“Shit.” He shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

Shane did a double take.
Well, score one for the good guys.

“—wasn’t in such bad . . . What?” Becca asked, her eyes going wide. “You’ll do it? Really?”

He gave an uncertain smile, like he’d just crested the hill of a roller coaster and hadn’t expected the drop to be so great. “You’re not trying to talk me out of it, are you?”

“No!” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. They all chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Becca. Agreeing to help and being able to do it are two different things,” Murphy said. And as glad as Shane was that he’d agreed to help, he was also pleased to hear him keeping his promises modest. One thing you learned doing medical work of any kind was that there were absolutely no guarantees. Murphy seemed like a straight shooter, and Shane respected that.

“I know,” she said.

Shane nailed the guy with a stare. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, either. But I was sure you were going to decline. So, I gotta ask, what made you agree?”

Murphy didn’t seem put off by the stare or the question. “I do what I do to help people who need it. If Charlie’s in as much trouble as you say and can’t otherwise get treatment, I feel duty-bound to see what I can do. Sometimes you gotta break some rules to do what’s right.” He shrugged and shifted feet, for the first time seeming a little uncomfortable, like they might disapprove of what he’d just said.

As if. They were living the sentiment themselves.

“That’s what I’d hope you’d say,” Shane said, shaking the guy’s hand. Then he glanced at his watch. If he didn’t go now, he’d be late. And he didn’t want to chance Crystal’s getting cold feet. “You two should take him to see Charlie. He won’t know anything until he examines him for himself.”

“Agreed,” Murphy said, as Becca and Nick nodded. “I don’t work until seven, so I’ve got time.”

“All right. I’ve gotta take care of that other thing,” Shane said. “I’ll meet you all back at the place later.”

After a quick round of good-byes, Shane headed across town toward Crystal’s apartment, torn between anticipation of seeing her again and fear that she’d had second thoughts since she’d called.

This time, he parked in one of the visitors’ spaces within the apartment complex, but one building down from Crystal’s. A quick survey of the lot revealed everything was quiet. He crossed between the parked cars, jogged around the building, and trailed the edge of the woods until he found a path.

A quiet,
empty
path.

Did he have the wrong place? Maybe there was another trail.

He scouted farther along but didn’t see any other place that seemed to fit Crystal’s instructions.

He looked at his watch. He was three minutes late. And Crystal was nowhere to be seen.

Goddamnit
. Had he missed his chance?

P
eeking out her bedroom window, Crystal watched as Shane darted from a black truck toward the woods. The moment she laid eyes on him, her heart flew into her throat.

Because she was getting to see him again. And because she was helping him go up against Bruno and Church. Her stomach tossed.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.
She rested her forehead against the wall next to the window, the coolness of the plaster surface helping her focus.
Pull it together. This is the right thing.

If she didn’t get out there, he was going to think she’d stood him up. So, right. She should go. Now. Heaving a deep breath, she forced her feet to move. Out of her room, through the apartment, and down the rear stairs.

She expected to see him standing at the entrance to the trail, but no one was there. Where had he gone? She hadn’t imagined seeing him run back here, had she?

Turning, she surveyed the stretch of green that ran behind the buildings.

“Don’t be frightened,” a male voice said from behind her.

She whirled, pulse hammering behind her ears. “Shane,” she gasped, her gaze raking over him. “I didn’t hear you there.”
God,
he was just as gorgeous in the light of day. Maybe more so.

His hair wasn’t gelled as it had been the night before, so the blond in the long tips of it was more apparent. It was messy in a totally sexy way, like he’d been running his fingers through it. Her own fingers twitched because she would’ve loved to bury her hands in his hair and pull him in tight. Just once. To see what it would be like. To see how he’d react.

From his hair, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Namely to the dark red scab on the side of his bottom lip that hadn’t been there before. And was she imagining it, or did he have a shadow of a bruise under his right eye? What the hell had happened to him in the fifteen hours since they’d last seen one another? Part of her was dying to ask, but one thing she’d learned early was to mind her own business.

The black jacket he had on was the same one from last night, which made her wonder if it once again shielded his gun holster. Her gaze dragged down. His blue jeans were the kind of old you just knew was worn soft, and damn did he look fine in them.

As she drank him in, he seemed to do the same in return. Like he was every bit as eager to lay eyes on her. His gaze was bright, intense, and tracked over her face and body like he wanted to soak in every detail.

For a long moment, she couldn’t breathe, then he smiled. “Hi,” he said in a low voice.

“Hi,” she said as quietly, the breathlessness he elicited from her making her feel a bit ridiculous. She was about to commit a major betrayal of her seriously dangerous boyfriend, not ask her high-school crush on a date, for God’s sake. Suddenly, she needed a break from the intensity. Even without worrying about someone seeing them, Shane made her feel too exposed. “Come on,” she said abruptly.