“I’ll make sure she’s happy.”
“Without giving her any more people to beat to death.”
Bren nodded blandly. “I’ve got it covered.”
Dallas swung to face Jasper. “As for you and Miss Cunningham, I think she knows more about the people running the city than I gave her credit for. Find out how much. No need to interrogate her, but I think she’ll take it a hell of a lot better if you ask than if I have to.”
So that was his endgame. “Do you want me to squeeze her for information or collar her? Because they might wind up being mutually exclusive options.”
Dallas rocked back in his chair and lit his cigarette before eyeing Jasper over the smoke. “You think it would hurt her?”
“Noelle’s father is a powerful man,” Jasper reminded him. “Yeah, I think she’ll mind if we have to crush a few just like him. Not for their sakes, but for the collateral damage.”
“And if it comes down to them or us?”
“She’s not weak, and she’s not stupid.”
Dallas took a long drag and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve got a little time. You make your decision about her, and then I’ll make mine.”
Jasper had made his choice, and the rest was up to her. No way could Dallas say the same. “She’s still new.”
“She’s one of us.” Dallas’s flat tone invited no argument. “If you can’t keep her and question her at the same time, I’ll respect that. But it means I’ll be the one asking the questions, and hoping she’s as strong and smart as you think she is.”
“Understood.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Dallas seemed just as upset by the conversation as Jasper was, and that quelled a little of his irritation. “Cheer up. Like you said—Noelle’s one of us.”
“Mmm.” Dallas exhaled again, blowing smoke into the air and watching it disperse. “I suppose I couldn’t have you all to myself forever. Get out of here and get some work done.”
Not in the mood to talk about it, then. “Fights tonight?”
“Damn straight. Bet we’ll see a big crowd, too. They always come sniffing around when there’s blood on the concrete.”
“The spectators are even more bloodthirsty than the fighters.” Jasper held up his fist.
“Always.” After only a moment’s hesitation, Dallas left the cigarette between his lips and bumped his own fist against Jasper’s. It was silent acknowledgment, an apology and forgiveness in one gesture.
“Tonight.” The only promise he could offer. He’d get things straight between himself and Noelle. The rest of it was between her and Dallas.
Noelle didn’t need to ask Lex for advice on her wardrobe anymore. She’d chosen tonight’s ensemble on her own, everything from the short leather skirt to the matching halter that wrapped around her throat and ended just above her belly button, baring pale skin and the curve of her hips. She had new boots, too, custom-crafted ones that somehow managed to mix tough practicality with a sleek sort of sensuality.
Dressed in leather and ink and her newly blossoming pride, she looked like an O’Kane. It was exhilarating.
The noise of the celebration hit her the moment one of the bouncers hauled open the door for her. Screams and cheers, drowning out the faint hint of music coming from the far side of the room. The warehouse had stark lighting, bare bulbs that looked like they’d been scavenged from before the storms. They cast their brash but uncertain light everywhere but where the action was—the cage.
A fight was winding down, judging by the shouts and whistles. Noelle ducked past two groupies and started for the far side of the room, where the O’Kanes usually claimed the best tables and couches. More than one unfamiliar fighter grinned at her, and all made slow appraisals of her body that invariably stopped at the tattoos on her wrists. The smiles melted away a little faster than the men, but every one disappeared into the crowd before he could get caught ogling an O’Kane woman.
God, power felt good.
Lex lounged on a low sofa near the bar, a drink in one hand. “You look nice, baby girl.”
“Baby girl? You’re Noelle?” A young woman in tattered jeans and a tight pink tank top perched on the arm of the couch gave Noelle’s outfit a once-over before groaning. “God damn, Lex. She’s barely been out of the city a week. Where do I get one of your makeovers?”
“You’re not dirty enough, Nessa.” Lex softened the words by stroking the woman’s arm. “It just wouldn’t work for you.”
Nessa. Rachel had mentioned the name more than once as the brains behind some of the O’Kanes’ biggest breakthroughs in liquor production, but Noelle had pictured someone older. Nessa looked to be near Noelle’s age, though her slender body and heart-shaped face made her look younger. Sweeter.
Until she scowled. “I’ll be plenty dirty when I’m good and ready,” she retorted, swinging her legs out of the way to make room for Noelle to sit. When she did, the girl thrust out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Dallas keeps me chained up in the distillery, and not with the sexy chains, either.”
Judging by the knowing grin on her face, it was another tease, like Ace’s. Noelle accepted the ribbing as inevitable and shook the offered hand with a smile. “Well, I’m glad he let you out for the night.”
“He wouldn’t have let you miss this.” Lex sat straighter and nodded to the cage. “Here he goes.”
Bren had just climbed inside the cage, stripped to the waist, his feet bare. He stood on one side, near the bars, his head bent, stretching his shoulders.
“Oh my God, Bren’s fighting?” Nessa’s eyes widened under her spiky, bleached-white bangs. “Oh man, oh man. We’re all gonna feel a little dirty tonight.”
Baffled, Noelle glanced at Lex. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”
“Nope.” Lex finished her drink and motioned to Rachel, who stood at the end of the bar. “You’re missing everything.”
A stranger climbed into the cage with Bren, a bulky man with ink, but not O’Kane markings. The tattoos were distorted by his bulging muscles, which the man flexed repeatedly to earn squeals from some of the groupies on the opposite side of the crowd.
Next to him, Bren looked…average. Strong but compact, and outweighed by enough to stir real worry in Noelle’s chest. “Is he going to be okay?”
Rachel chuckled as she walked up with a tray cluttered with overflowing shot glasses. “He’ll be dandy after he gets the crap beat out of him.”
“And they throw a chick in there,” Nessa added. “Dallas should start auctioning off the privilege. He’d make more on that than he does the booze.”
Noelle prodded Lex with her elbow. “Is she serious?”
“About which part?”
It was answer enough. Noelle snapped her gaze to the cage as the stranger took his first swing. Bren blocked it, but his opponent came back with an even harder blow to the ribs. Bren took it and staggered against the bars.
Rachel shook her head. “This guy’s a tank. Fifty bucks says Bren ends it early because his dick hurts.”
Nessa thrust out her hand. “I’ll bet a hundred that he plays with the guy for a while, but doesn’t bother dragging the girl out of the cage before he fucks her.”
Lex slapped her palm. “If he’s that hot for it tonight, I might be the one jumping in there with him.”
Their voices slid past Noelle as she watched the cage, transfixed by the sheer violence contained within the bars. The huge stranger looked furious, his face red and his veins bulging. He came at Bren again and again, roaring curses and swinging with meaty fists. Sometimes Bren dodged or blocked with a lazy ease that made it even more confusing when a blow he should have avoided smashed into him.
She’d watched Jasper fight with focused intensity and unwavering attention. She’d seen Flash dominate an opponent with his huge fists and sheer size. This was something else entirely, a completely unbalanced fight—because Bren didn’t seem to be trying.