The leader rolled his eyes toward his men, who looked torn between rage and disgust. He could let Jasper walk away, but he wouldn’t be leading anyone.
He knew it, too. Bravado and bluff filled his eyes. “There’re more of us than there are of you.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
He twisted fast, thrusting his free hand behind his back. Another gun. Jasper jerked the man’s arm with a snap. “Don’t.”
The second gun spilled from nerveless fingers as Flash stomped across the floor, scattering splintered wood, glass shards, and cheap liquor across the cement. “Boss?”
“Back to the car. They’ve learned their lesson.” He squeezed a little harder, and the bones in the leader’s wrist ground together. “Haven’t they?”
“Yes,” came the pained, shaky whisper. “We’re gone.”
He released him and stepped back. “Don’t forget—Dallas O’Kane doesn’t do second chances.”
No one tried to stop them as they left. No one said a damn word.
Back in the car, Flash heaved a sigh. “So much for a fight. What a bunch of limp-dick cowards.”
Cowardice or intelligence, Jasper didn’t really care what had motivated them. “Would you rather fight, Flash? All it takes for someone to get the jump on you is a split second, and Amira could be raising that kid alone.”
“She’ll never be alone,” Flash shot back, “not while she’s an O’Kane.” He shifted on the seat with a growl. “Are you telling me you don’t miss it, even a little? Having to fight to protect our territory instead of showing up and watching them all piss themselves?”
“Of course I miss it,” Jasper muttered. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t spend so much time in the brawling ring and the cage. “But this is what we were fighting for. Enough recognition and respect to not have to spend all our time cracking heads to get the point across.”
Bren spoke from the back seat. “He’s saying you should get your ya-yas out some other way, ’cause this is the new standard operating procedure.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Flash grumbled for a few minutes more before subsiding with a sigh and switching back to his favorite topic. “The cage is better anyway. Amira gets fucking wild watching. You two don’t know what you’re missing.”
Bren kicked the seat. “But you’re gonna tell us—at length, whether we want you to or not.”
How would Noelle react to the violence of the cage fights? Amira knew how members of the gang blew off steam and settled scores amongst themselves. Noelle, on the other hand, was used to pacifism. Civility.
And look where it got her, a voice growled deep inside him. Drugged and helpless, waiting to die.
Flash was still running his mouth. “Since when do you not like the dirty details? Or am I supposed to shut up ’cause the bleeding heart over here’s got his panties in a twist? Honestly, Jas, why are you in such a fucking foul mood?”
“Because I have to deal with you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Nah, I’m a laugh a minute.”
Jasper didn’t fight his grin. “Your face is.”
“Least it’s not my dick. Poor Bren.”
Bren snorted. “Amira seems to like it okay.”
Flash lunged, driving his hip into Jasper’s arm as he swung at Bren between the seats.
Jasper swore and jerked the wheel to correct their course, but the left front bumper clipped an already-dented garbage can. “This is one of Dallas’s new cars. He just got it running the way he wants it.”
“Fucker.” Flash settled on his seat. “I’ll punch you when we’re back home.”
“When we get back, we’re all going to have a drink and think of a good way to break the news about the busted headlight to Dallas.”
Noelle couldn’t carry a tray worth a damn.
Not that it mattered much. Lex had poured her into a pair of leather pants that hugged her ass and a halter top that only precariously covered her tits. Jasper caught himself staring, watching for the inevitable moment when the slinky silver fabric would shift just a little too far.
“We’re stuck with her,” Dallas drawled next to him. “We might as well ink your waif now. Lex went and got attached, and now she’ll take my dick off if I kick the girl to the curb.”
Dallas wasn’t scared of Lex, not for a second, which meant something more like sentimentality—or mercy—motivated him. “She’s trying. After a day, that’s about all you can ask.”
“Yeah, she’s trying.” Dallas ignored the women gyrating on stage and watched Noelle smile at two customers as she set drinks in front of them. “And she’s a little lost lamb in a den of wolves.”
The other waitress who’d been training her, Rachel, joined Noelle in animated conversation with the customers, and Jasper finally looked down into his glass. “Maybe Lex’ll keep her.”
“Unlikely.” Dallas stirred his drink. “If it’ll bother you when the men start fighting over her, you better get straight. Because that girl wants it, and when she gets around to admitting it, the boys are gonna give it to her.”
Jasper didn’t have time for a woman, much less one with big eyes who would expect things. “What, you don’t like her?”
A shrug. “She’s got a nice ass. Pretty mouth. I like the idea of Lex teaching her how to give head. But I’m not in the market for a keeper.”
Jasper let his gaze stray back to Noelle. “Neither am I.”
As if she could feel his gaze, she glanced up and smiled, an open expression edged with a hint of shyness. An unwitting invitation.
Dallas snorted. “That one’s in the market to keep you.”
How could she be? “She doesn’t know me, and a day isn’t long enough to know what it’s like around here, either.”
“She doesn’t know shit about shit,” Dallas agreed. “But you’re her bloody fucking savior, and good for you. What I don’t need is you beating the other men bloody outside of the cage ’cause you’re a jealous motherfucker. So hit it or quit it.”
“You’re a humorless bastard. When did you get so cranky?”
“Times are tough in the slums of paradise. Politics are heating up in the city.”
Politics. Jasper hated them, thought about them as little as possible, and even that effort was reserved for the careful dance of power between the gangs that ruled the sectors. He never thought about the shit going down in the city. “Uh-huh.”
Dallas huffed out a laugh and rose, glass in hand. “You suck at pretending to give a shit, Jas. I’m going to go find someone who’ll suck at something more interesting.”
Nothing went on at the Broken Circle without Dallas’s approval, explicit or not. “If I kept her—and that’s a big if—it wouldn’t be because she has no place to go. I’d rather help her out as a friend than rope her into something she doesn’t understand.”
“I’m not fucking heartless. She can stay, and you and Lex can be responsible for her.” Dallas hit him with a stern look. “But don’t make a habit of this. I can’t take in every stray the city kicks out.”
True, and Jasper had seen him flat-out ignore people a lot more pathetic than Miss Cunningham. Whatever was driving him to tolerate Noelle probably had more to do with Lex than his compassion. “Yes, sir.”
Dallas strode away, stopping to say something to Rachel and Noelle. Noelle looked at the stage and transferred her tray to Rachel’s more competent hands.
Then she turned and wove a path through the tables, heading directly for Jasper.