Hard as You Can (42 page)

The justice and righteousness of that resonated way down deep in Shane’s gut. Tempting as it was, though, the team couldn’t give into full-scale vigilantism without becoming just like that which they were fighting against, could they?

S
hane watched as A-Team—the larger team headed for the garage delivery—rolled out of Hard Ink’s lot, forming a long stream of bikes following Beckett’s SUV and the Ravens’ box truck full of barricades to force traffic in the garage where they wanted it to go. With Beckett was Nick and Miguel. The whole team was leaving early to set up the barriers and get well hidden before the Churchmen ever arrived.

The remaining team had a good ninety minutes before they could set out for Confessions. And that gave Shane more than enough time to do something he’d been itching to do. Hand in hand, he led Sara up to his bedroom and closed the door.

And then he pushed Sara up against it, his hips against hers, his hand on the door beside her head. “Sorry, darlin’. I just needed a little time with you before I left.”

Sara shook her head, a small, sexy smile on her face. “Don’t even think about apologizing for telling me what you want,” she said, echoing his words from the previous night.

Shane threw his head back and laughed, but the humor died in his throat as she stole the opportunity to flick her tongue over his Adam’s apple and lick up to his jaw.

“You don’t play fair,” Shane said, bringing his gaze back to hers.

Still smiling, Sara wrapped her arms around Shane’s neck and lifted her legs around his waist. She arched a brow.

Groaning, Shane’s hands went to Sara’s delicious ass, holding her up against the door. “You’re killing me, sweetness. I want in you so damn bad.” He kissed her deep, plundering her mouth with his tongue. He held back a little, not giving in to the need to ravage her, but Sara’s moans and whimpers communicated only pleasure.

“Can you please be inside me right now?” she asked.

He froze long enough to assess her sincerity, and then her jeans and panties were gone. “How?” Shane said, almost frenzied, as he grabbed a condom and pushed his jeans to his knees.

Sara eyed the door. “I’d like to try that,” she said, nodding toward where they’d just been standing. “Just please go slow at first?”

“Anything you want, Sara. Always.” He rolled on the condom and easily hiked her back up around his waist, her heat already washing over his cock. Gently, he pressed her up against the door. “I love you, Sar. Don’t let me hurt you. I’m a little wound up over you right now, but just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” Sara said. “I trust you.” And then her center found the head of his cock and she lowered herself down.

“Oh,
fuuck,
” Shane groaned, as her tight, wet heat engulfed him. “Okay?” he managed.

“More than,” she said, smiling.

Shane started moving then. Really, he had no choice in the matter. Her body felt too good, he loved her too much, and his veins were flooded with pre-mission adrenaline. The combination had his hips swinging and his hands grinding her ass down for each upward thrust. Sara’s gasps were the sexiest fucking thing, so free and full of passion.

“All right, sweetness?” Shane asked.

By way of answering, Sara kissed him. Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled them tight and sucked on his tongue so hard Shane saw stars. The shift in position escalated the wildness of her moans.

All of a sudden, Sara’s nails sank into Shane’s shoulders and her body tightened around him—her arms, her legs, her sweet pussy. Sara unleashed a strangled moan into their kisses that Shane swallowed greedily. And then her orgasm nearly took Shane to his knees as her body clenched his cock again and again.

Shane’s own orgasm barreled down on him like an out-of-control freight train and nailed him in the back, forcing Shane deep, deep, deeper as he spilled himself into Sara’s sweet body, and she swallowed
his
moans. When it was over, Shane stumbled backward, carrying Sara until he could sit on the edge of the bed. Under her scant weight, his thighs shook. He pulled away from the kissing and heaved a deep breath.

Tears pooled in Sara’s eyes.

Oh, no.
Shane’s gut crashed to the floor. “Oh, God, sweetness. What’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” Shane ran his hands gently over her back. “I was too rough, wasn’t I? I’m so fucking so—”

“No,” she said in a tight voice. “Not at all,” she managed. “Scared for you tonight. Scared for Jenna,” she said, the tears flowing now. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Shane’s heart restarted again and he heaved another deep breath as he gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes. “You won’t, Sara. I’ll be home tonight, and I’ll have Jenna with me.”

Emotions flitted over her beautiful face. Finally, she nodded. “I know, you’re right.” She grasped his face in her hands and kissed his lips sweetly but firmly. “I believe in you, Shane McCallan.”

Kissing her one more time, he helped her off his lap so he could dispose of the condom. And it hit Shane exactly what to do. “Sit with me a minute,” he said, patting the mattress beside him. As she did, he pulled up his pants and reached into his pocket, finding Molly’s necklace with his fingers. He laid the butterfly in his hand so she could see it. “For the past sixteen years,” he said, looking into her eyes, “this necklace has been my most important possession. I never go anywhere without it, and I would never leave it behind without knowing I could have it back again.” Grasping Sara’s hand, he slowly dropped the pendant and chain into her palm. “So you hold on to this for me. That way, you know I’ll have to come back.”

Eyes wide, Sara shook her head. “I can’t . . .”

He closed her fingers around the necklace. “I want you to have it. And every time your faith threatens to fail, you look at that and know I’ll be back. Because I love you.”

As Sara threw her arms around him and told him she loved him, too, Shane offered a silent promise to succeed where he’d failed before. Sixteen years ago, he’d lost his own little sister, but tonight, he wouldn’t lose Sara’s.

F
ORTY MINUTES LATER
, B-Team stood on the floor of Confessions, waiting to be escorted to their party room for Marz’s fake bachelor party. It was like the night they’d rescued Charlie—crowded, loud, just bordering on rowdy. Despite the crowd, Shane felt exposed as hell standing in the bar, and he was glad when Darnell finally found and invited them to follow him beyond the curtain.

Shane, Marz, Easy, and nine of the Ravens made their way back down the hall, laughing, joking, drinking beer. Shane had emphasized they act like regular guys enjoying a night out at a strip club. So far, they were passing with flying colors.

In their private room, the party got under way with food, music, and dancing girls on the small central stage. As the groom, Marz was trapped front and center, and kept up enough antics—like dancing with the girls, loudly joking with the guys, and offering hilarious editorial commentary regarding the porn playing on the big screen—to make sure all attention remained on him.

Shane and Easy leaned against the bar near the door. From which it was a very short trip down the hall, around a small corner, and down the steps into the basement.

A few minutes after they arrived, Jeremy’s voice came through Shane’s earpiece. “B-Team Leader, this is Eileen,” he said, using the joking code name they’d come up with for Charlie’s rescue—they avoided real names on the coms as much as possible. “You know who was a half hour late getting to the other location. Just arrived. The other people were already there, and A-Team Leader took pictures of them all.”

“Roger,” Shane said, glad for the confirmation Bruno was out of the building. Then he looked to Easy. “I’ll run to the bathroom, and we’ll be set,” he said, referring to the key Howie was supposed to have left. Shane slipped inside, secured the door, and crouched to look beneath the sink. Nothing.

He checked every other possible hiding place in the room. Still, nothing.

Caution settled on Shane’s shoulders like a warm blanket. He returned to Easy’s side. “Dead end,” he said in a low voice.

“Shit,” Easy said. “Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. Let’s do it.”

Nodding, Shane spoke into the coms. “Take down the cameras.”

“Doing it now,” Jeremy said. “Stand by.” Marz’s identification of the wireless frequencies that many of the Confessions security cameras operated on gave him the power to interfere with the signal and essentially shut them down. Marz had shown Charlie what to do before they’d left. “Good to go,” Jeremy said.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Easy said, off coms. “I’d like to get Jenna back sooner than later.”

Shane studied the intense expression on the man’s face but didn’t have time to analyze whether more was going on for Easy than met the eye. Anyway, right now, it wasn’t the most important thing.

“Let’s move,” Shane said.

Out the door. Down a thankfully clear hallway. Shane cleared the corner, waving Easy around. A whole lotta déjà vu washed over Shane as he looked into the dimness of the basement stairwell, but all seemed quiet, so he started his way down, gun at the ready.

Sara had said Jenna would be in the last room on the right. Now that they didn’t have the key, they were going to have to be more creative about—The door stood open. Shane pointed, and Easy gave a tight nod. They hustled along the hallway and stopped just shy of the door. Shane indicated for Easy to push it open, and Shane would cover.

Silently counting to three, Easy pushed the door open, Shane swung his gun over the space. Only, the room inside was pitch-black, just like Sara had described. Shane felt along the inside wall for a switch, and finally Easy signaled him that it was
outside
the door. Easy flicked the switch and eased the door shut behind him so light didn’t bleed into the hall.

It took Shane’s eyes a minute to adjust, and not just because the room had gone from darkness to light.

The bed was empty. Jenna wasn’t there.

But someone else was.

“Fuck,” Shane said, stepping to the center of the room and crouching next to the body of an older black man whose shirt was drenched in blood from at least two stab wounds to the chest. There was no pulse, but the body was still warm, pliable. This had just happened.

Shane’s gaze flashed to Easy’s, and the man wore an absolutely lethal expression. “I want to take this place
down,
” Easy said, almost growling. For a long moment, their gazes met and held. Shane looked at the older man he assumed was Sara’s friend, soaked in his own blood on the floor. He’d probably died helping them. Shane thought of those nine women disappearing into the boats. He thought of Charlie and Jenna and the countless others he knew nothing about.

How many more have to die here?

“B-Team Leader, we have a situation with A-Team,” Jeremy said, his voice not as calm as before.

“We’ve got one here, too. The package is missing,” Shane said, wondering how much worse this night could go.

“No, it’s not. The package is with . . . you-know-who at A-Team’s location.”

“Jesus,” Shane said under his breath.
Not again. Not again. He couldn’t lose her again.
“She is their top priority. Their
only
priority, Eileen. Make that clear.”

White-hot rage clawing down his spine, Shane looked at Easy. “Take it down,” Shane said. Gun drawn, Shane walked out into the central hallway and checked the other basement rooms. All empty. “How much time do you need?”

Easy’s smile was nearly sinister as he pulled a pouch from inside his coat. “I came prepared, dawg. Five minutes to place the materials, then we can remote this motherfucker.” He pulled small blocks of the off-white plastic explosive C-4 out and secured them to load-bearing beams, then inserted the blast caps.

“Roger that,” Shane said, keeping lookout while Easy did his thing. When they were done downstairs, they returned to the party room and quietly spread the word to the Ravens, who lacked earpieces.
Prepare to haul ass out the front door so they’d mix in with the crowd.

Jeremy’s voice spilled into Shane’s earpiece. “Shots fired at Location 1, but A-Team Leader secured the delivery items. Says the package got away, but they are in pursuit.”

Shane wanted to destroy something with his bare hands. Whatever had been exchanged via the delivery meant absolutely nothing to him at this moment. Jenna was all that mattered.

“We do this now,” Shane growled to Easy, then he stalked over to the wall by the door and pulled the fire alarm. The siren screeched at an ear-shattering decibel level. “Everyone out,” Shane said, shooing the dancers out and accounting for all his men before he left the room.

The chaos of the main club was audible over the alarms—running feet, yelling, screams.

“Everyone out,” Shane yelled in the main club. “Fire!” He was glad to see no one lingering behind. Customers, dancers, waitresses—everyone bailed. Their group brought up the rear, then they were out in the night air, making a beeline for their cars and bikes as the club’s bouncers urged people to the other side of the street.

Having planned to transport Jenna once they rescued her, Shane, Easy, and Marz had parked near the back door. Weaving through scattered groups of people, they wound their way to the road and waited for the bikes to congregate behind them.

When the twelfth Harley joined them, Shane hit the accelerator; and then he looked to Easy.

Watching over his shoulder to make sure the bikers were clear, Easy waited . . . waited . . . then finally pressed a button on a cell phone Shane hadn’t seen before. And the world in his rearview mirror exploded with a deafening series of crashes and bright orange fireballs that shook the ground beneath his truck.

But Shane couldn’t take any pleasure in the destruction of that godforsaken hellhole. Not yet. Because he still hadn’t done his job. He still hadn’t saved Jenna.

S
ARA SAT IN
a metal folding chair trying to avoid asking Jeremy for information he didn’t have. He’d been honest with her at every step, including the one where Jenna had shown up where she wasn’t supposed to be—with Bruno at the garage. And now it appeared Nick and the Ravens with him were chasing them through the streets of Baltimore.