Kit Rocha: Beyond Shame

Rachel wasn’t even waitress material. She should have been the one tinkering under the hood of that car outside, because God knew she was better at it than most of the men, including Dallas. “And the party?”

His smile was positively wicked. “Let’s leave that to Jasper.”

Lex held his gaze as she traced her index finger over the corner of her mouth and licked her fingertip. “Yes, sir.”

Bren slid into the back seat, but he left the door open and one foot on the ground. He never shut himself into a car until they were ready to roll. “We leaving now?”

“Waiting for Flash,” Jasper muttered.

“Aw, shit. Did we check to see if he had his hand in Amira’s pants? ’Cause that’ll take all day.”

Flash jerked open the front passenger door. “That’s why I have a woman and you don’t.”

“Something you never let anyone forget,” Bren drawled.

The third man folded his immense body into the front seat and grinned, looking entirely self-satisfied. “Marking that girl was the smartest move I ever made. You think the women are hot before they get the ink around their throats? You have no fucking idea.”

Flash’s satisfaction was a tangible thing, filling the scant space left in the car. Jasper started the engine. “Where’s this place supposed to be?”

The man’s smugness melted away, replaced by brisk, businesslike seriousness. “Over by the border with Five, just outside the second perimeter. I think they took over an abandoned church.”

“Are they stupid or desperate?”

“Probably both.”

Both was dangerous. Jas pointed the car toward their destination. “Our orders from Dallas are to tear it down. Standard shit. This is their warning. If they rebuild, we tear them down.”

“Standard shit,” Bren agreed.

“Violence and mayhem.” Flash grinned. “I hope someone takes a swing at me.”

Jas unbent enough to smile. “And ruin that pretty face?”

“Didn’t say I’d let them hit me.” Flash clenched his fists. “I’m itching to deal a little damage. Property, people… Whatever gets in my way.”

Bren leaned over the back of the front seat. “Save it for the cage. Pick up some extra money.”

“Why, you going to climb in there with me?”

“Hell, no. But there’s never any shortage of dumbasses who will.”

“Chicken.” Flash muttered the word, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. He played for keeps in the cage and didn’t relish facing off against the few men he actually liked. “So what’s the deal with the new girl? Amira says she’s like a baby deer in the woods.”

Jas shifted gears as the car pulled free of the more congested, debris-scattered streets and gained speed. “Something like that.” A woman desperate to find a place and a little bit of safety was more like it.

“I hope she takes to waiting tables. Maybe then Amira’ll quit bitching that Rachel’s got too much on her shoulders. She’s pissed I won’t let her work, but fuck if she’s gonna haul trays around when she’s pregnant with my kid.”

“She could do something less physically taxing,” Jasper pointed out.

“I don’t want her around outsiders, either.”

No, Flash wouldn’t rest easy having her exposed to unknown dangers. “Amira’s sharp. Dallas could probably use her help with paperwork. Keeping the books.”

Flash grunted and glanced at Bren. “No smartass comments from you?”

“What? He’s right.” Bren shrugged. “Only questionable thing the woman’s ever done is place her bets on a monster like you.”

“Monsters always get the girls,” Flash said, his haughty arrogance returning. “We’re the ones who can keep them safe.”

Safe. Jas swallowed a growl. Amira wanted a damn sight more from Flash than that, and she got it—even if the man barely seemed to realize it. She always watched him with a mix of adoration and indulgence, and none of it had to do with his macho posturing.

As usual, Flash was oblivious. “Up here.” He pointed to an intersection where rundown buildings sagged alongside burned-out warehouses.

Jas slowed the car and took a turn around the block. “Remember what I said, both of you. No blood.”

“And if they hit first?”

“Then you do what you’ve got to do.”

Bren checked his sidearm as Jas parked in a shadowed spot in the alley. “We’ve got it—no excessive force.”

“No excessive force.” Jasper jerked open his door.

Flash popped the car’s trunk and pulled out a sledgehammer before falling in behind him as they headed for the side door of the warehouse. “Is kicking the door in excessive?”

“Come on, man.” Bren stretched his neck and grinned. “Jasper’s polite. He’d rather knock.”

Flash tightened his grip on his makeshift weapon with an answering expression of mirth. “Good. That’ll make the surprise bigger when I rip the place up. Go on, lover boy. Knock.”

“You both talk too much.” Jas shouldered through the door and watched as the men surrounding the copper monstrosity in the center of the room scattered. “Nice still, boys.”

The leader cursed and dove for a gun, swinging it up to point at Jasper’s forehead as chaos erupted behind him. “We’re on the border between sectors,” he snapped. “This isn’t O’Kane territory.”

Bren swore and reached into his jacket, but Jas held up a hand as he stared down the barrel of the gun. There had been a time when the sight had scared him, a time when that tiny little black space inside the muzzle had expanded to encompass the world, and he’d been so sure it could swallow him whole.

It still could. Jasper wondered idly where the fear had gone, then forced his thoughts back to the task at hand. “It’s possible you don’t understand what a non-compete clause is. I’ve come to explain it to you.”

The gun barrel wavered. “What the fuck sort of fucking bullshit is this?”

“It’s an opportunity,” Jas said evenly. “A chance to start over someplace else.”

The blond man hesitated, his gaze leaping to Bren and Flash and back. “We can’t move our operation.”

“Yes, you can.” Jasper gripped the man’s wrist and twisted until the barrel of the gun pointed toward the exposed steel rafters above. “Once we’re done, you won’t be operational anymore. Easy enough to move then.”

As if to punctuate the point, Flash hefted the sledgehammer and swung it through a crate of bottles. Everything shattered, wood and glass alike, crashing to the ground.

Blondie cursed and tried to free his gun hand. “Fuck, you can’t do that.”

Jasper gestured Bren forward to check the tanks. “First warning’s your only warning. Next time, Flash tosses that sledge through your face.”

“Tanks are clear,” Bren declared. “Looks like they’re between batches.”

Two of the men started forward when Flash lifted his weapon again. A snarl and bared teeth had them scrambling back, and Flash demolished their remaining supplies in an orgy of gratuitous destruction, the very recklessness of it its own message. O’Kane didn’t need to steal supplies from competitors. O’Kane would just wipe them off the map.

Jas didn’t release his grip on the leader’s wrist, even when the man kept fidgeting. Instead, he spoke calmly. “You’re going to let us walk out of here with no trouble and go set up shop someplace else. You’re going to do it because nothing here is worth dying for. Yes?”

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.”