And just then, Jeremy Rixey became Shane’s brother in every way that mattered.
Nick nodded, anger making sharp angles of his face. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said in a tight voice.
The tension deflated from the room faster than a popped balloon. Relief flooded through Shane’s system. Part of him had been braced for a fight. The more people who stayed here, the more resources they required and the higher the vulnerabilities they possessed. He would’ve understood if the whole lot of them had come at him with a list of totally reasonable reservations.
But they’d been there for him. And Crystal.
“You realize she’s a package deal,” Easy said in a low voice from beside him. “Jenna?”
“Yeah,” Shane said. He suspected Jenna was going to be the sticking point for Crystal. But first things first. Get both of them to safety. And then figure out how to pick up the pieces. That is, if Crystal and Jenna agreed. And he feared it was a big if.
“Well, so were me and Charlie, but you all took us in,” Becca said. “I don’t see why that would make a difference. There’s plenty of room in this building, isn’t there?”
Jeremy nodded. “The apartment above ours has electricity and water. Bathroom’s in, and the drywall’s mostly up. Floors are all cement, but . . .” He shrugged. “It ain’t pretty, but we could certainly buy a couple of beds for up there and let people spread out a little. It’s not like we’re using the space for anything else—”
“Hold up,” Marz said, gesturing for them to quiet down. He scooped the second earbud back to his ear, pressed his fingers against the little black bud, and leaned toward the monitor he’d been eyeing from time to time. “Say it louder, asshole,” he whispered to himself as he punched a sequence of keys. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his ears again. “Pier thirteen,” he said almost to himself, and then his gaze whipped up, wide and excited. “I got a voice saying ‘we’re on for Pier thirteen tonight.’”
Holy shit. Was Marz saying what Shane thought he was saying? “You got the location for the delivery?” Shane asked, moving around behind Marz’s chair. Easy and Beckett joined them, then Nick and Becca, until they were all crowded in together.
Marz’s hands flew over the keyboard of a laptop sitting off to the side, the only machine not engaged in the audio and video surveillance of Confessions. He typed in “Pier 13 Baltimore.” A listing of search results appeared on the monitor. Every one related to the same address on Newgate Avenue, at the northwestern end of the marine terminal.
Running one last search, Marz sat back, and the whole group of them watched as a satellite image of Pier 13 took shape on the screen.
“Right there’s where we’re headed, boys.” Marz pointed at the monitor, his tone victorious. “Right there is where we start to get some answers.”
“WHY, WHY, WHY?” Crystal murmured to herself as she peeked in on the bubbling pan of lasagna. Five more minutes, and it would be done. Which meant that she had no more than fifteen minutes before Bruno would be here for dinner. The one she’d invited him to the other night when she’d been trying to gather information about the big meeting at the marine terminal he had in a few hours.
Because she hadn’t wanted him to get suspicious of her questions. And she’d needed him to believe she wanted to spend time with him. And because she’d been trying to appease his anger about a man having been in the apartment.
So when Bruno had called after lunchtime and said he’d like to come over after all, there wasn’t really anything she could do but agree.
How was it possible that conversation had only been a few days before? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Twisting the hot pads in her hands, Crystal thought back over the week. On the outside, she appeared just the same. Same woman. Same job. Same sorta boyfriend. Same miserable reality. But on the inside, it was like there’d been a flood, and when the waters receded, everything had been reshaped and relocated into a totally different landscape.
The buzzer on the oven screeched. Crystal flinched from her thoughts and shut it off, then she very carefully removed the glass dish from the wire rack and set it on the stovetop to cool.
Lasagna was Bruno’s favorite. It was a shame, really, because as much as she liked it, if she ever got away from him, she might never eat it again.
As the scent of warm cheese, spicy sauce, and garlic bread filled the air of the small apartment, Crystal could reduce every bit of the raging storm that was her life right now to two words: Shane McCallan.
The man for whom she’d asked the questions.
The man she’d gone and fallen for. Like an idiot.
The man she could never, ever have.
Not that he’d want her after he’d felt the ruined mess that was her back. If he hadn’t thought her a spineless loser before, he surely would now.
The backs of her eyes stung with regrets and grief, and Crystal let herself wallow in those feelings for exactly one more minute. When the LED on the stove clock flickered from 4:58 to 4:59, she forced herself to box that crap up tight and put it away. For good.
She needed to be a convincingly adoring girlfriend tonight, in every way Bruno expected. In any way Bruno expected. Which was why she’d worn her skinny jeans and the black shirt she’d made with the deep vee in the front that he liked so much. Tonight was all about pleasing Bruno. Grabbing a Sprite from the fridge, she gulped down a large swallow, washing away the sour bile that crept up the back of her throat when she thought of what that likely meant.
You can do it, Crystal. You’ve survived worse.
True. But using that as a benchmark was a helluva way to have to live your life.
Eight months. The hustle and bustle of New York’s Seventh Avenue popped into her mind’s eye. She’d been there once for a long weekend her freshman year of college, and the dynamism of the city had imprinted itself on her forever. Surely, she and Jenna would be safe in a place so large, so busy, so crowded with people.
A key sounded against the door handle, then the door opened.
She pushed the musings away. Showtime.
Crystal swept out of the kitchen with a big smile on her face. “Hey. You’re here.”
Bruno smiled and grasped her face in his hands. “Yes, I am, baby. And something smells good,” he said, kissing her roughly and walking her backward into the kitchen.
Too wet, too much tongue, too much alcohol on his breath, she thought, completely aware she was using a very particular point of comparison in the form of a sexy former soldier with the most charming smile she’d ever seen. But none of that mattered right now, so she threw herself into it and laughed as he backed her into the counter. “Me?” she said, laughing.
Bruno pulled a piece of cheese from the corner of the dish and popped it into his mouth. “Well, you’re okay, too.”
She smiled because since he thought that was funny, she had to react like it was. “You hungry now? Because everything’s ready. I can dish it up right away.”
He stepped back and whipped off his leather jacket, revealing the double holster hidden underneath. “Yeah. Starving,” he said, leaving the kitchen. His coat and guns fell on the couch with a heavy thump. He sat at the small dining table and tapped out a message on his cell phone. Waiting to be served.