Beyond Addiction (14 page)

“Now there’s an idea.” The table in the corner yelled for their order, and Zan turned on his stool. “Shut the fuck up, or I’ll boot your asses out of here!”

Wounded arm or no, he could still scare the piss out of people. The table fell silent, and Noelle slapped her tray down on the bar with a grateful sigh. “Thank you. They’re driving me
crazy
. They want another round of Nessa’s last batch, though, so at least they’re rich and annoying.”

Zan polished off his drink and pushed his glass out for Trix to refill. “Better than broke and annoying, but not as good as rich and polite.”

“You been dipping into Doc’s personal stash again?” Trix asked. The humor was a little forced, but she couldn’t stop herself. Joking with Zan was the next best thing to wrapping him in a never-ending hug, and she’d dissolve into tears the moment she tried.

But he grinned at her, and it eased some of the tightness squeezing her chest. He was okay—not only alive, but up and walking around, drinking and glowering like any other day.

All the female attention couldn’t be hurting. As Trix moved drinks to her tray, Noelle went up on her toes to kiss his cheek, just like she had the last five times she’d come to pick up an order. “Zan appreciates good manners. That’s why we love him.”

The tops of his ears turned pink. “I thought it was about my manly good looks and charm.”

Noelle took off, balancing her tray on one hand as if she’d been slinging drinks all her life instead of less than a year. Hawk’s silent gaze followed her, so intense and considering that Trix almost warned him that Noelle was very, very taken. But when Noelle dropped the drinks off at the newly subdued table, his gaze didn’t follow her back into the crowd.

It stayed on the liquor. “How much are they paying for that?”

“For one of Nessa’s special creations? Way too much.” Trix flipped over a glass, picked up the half-empty bottle, and poured him a double. “And not nearly enough. Try it.”

He lifted the glass, squinting at the liquor as he swirled it around. He had the glass halfway to his lips when the music changed, the familiar strains of a low, primal bass rhythm pouring out of the strategically situated speakers.

Jeni danced out on stage, already naked. Instead of the teasing build of stripping off her clothes, she moved with the music, letting it guide the dip and sway of her body.

Hawk jerked his gaze from the stage, knocked back the drink, and slammed the glass to the bar. “You guys don’t mess around.”

Zan laughed and clapped him on the back. “Welcome to Sector Four. You’re gonna like it here.”

The words pierced Trix’s heart. Not because Hawk didn’t deserve the welcome—Christ knew he deserved that and more, not only for the risks he’d taken, but the people he’d lost—but because part of her couldn’t help but wish that Finn could have the same.

Hawk was still trying not to stare when Noelle returned to the bar. She took one look at him and grinned at Zan. “Were my eyes that big the first time I saw Jeni dance?”

“Not quite, but cut the man some slack. He’s new to the wonders of the Broken Circle.”

Laughing, Noelle patted Hawk’s cheek as if he wasn’t a grown man with the first hints of silver in his beard—and probably old enough to be her father. “Poor baby. Be glad she’s only dancing. Those shows she used to do with Ace would give anyone big eyes.”

Trix picked up a towel and wiped a spill from the counter behind the bar. “Guess she’ll have to find a new partner.”

“Or keep doing what she’s doing. They’re eating it up.” Zan arched an eyebrow. “What are you and Jas up to tonight, Noelle?”

“We’re keeping Ace and Rachel company while Cruz is out on business.” She leaned into Zan’s good side and rested her head on his massive shoulder. “You guys should come. I think Nessa’s going to show up, too.”

“I’m there.”

He turned to Trix, and she opened her mouth to agree, but stumbled over the words. If she showed up with Finn, everyone would be uncomfortable, including him. And if she left him out, she’d never forgive herself.

He’d come to Four—to her
home
—expecting to have the past shadow him like a ghost. So far, that was exactly what had happened.

“Another time,” she said instead. “Thanks for the invitation, though.”

“You sure?” Noelle ignored a drunk customer trying to flag her down and leaned across the bar. “If you don’t feel up to it tonight, promise me we’ll hang out soon.”

God, she was so earnest that Trix couldn’t even lie. “It’s been a long couple of days. But soon.”

“Okay. Hey, the old-timers at the back table are almost ready for another round. Get me set up while I go see what the drunk guy wants?”

Trix glanced down at the half-filled tray. “Already working on it. I got your back.”

Noelle grinned and pushed away from the bar. “And I’ll get us a badass tip.”

She headed off into the crowd, and Zan eyed Trix over the rim of his glass. “If you’re so beat, how come you’re behind the bar, slinging drinks tonight?”

Trix avoided meeting his gaze. “Gives me something to do.”

“Bullshit. You’ve got plenty to do.”

It was Hawk who finally broached the one topic everyone in her life had been so carefully avoiding. “How’s Finn healing up?”

She could have kissed him. “He’s good. He spent the day helping out in the garage. I’m surprised he didn’t drag you out there with him.”

“I was with the other guy. Cruz?” Hawk slid his glass across the bar and shook his head. “I don’t know how the hell he pulled it off, but he sent someone out to the farm and set up a vid link so I could talk to Shipp and Alya.”

Knowing Dallas, he’d sent more than communications equipment. “How are they?”

“Relieved to hear from me, and doing okay. Big John made it, and no one got anything worse than bruises while we were breaking through.”

“I’m glad.” She refilled his glass and leaned over to meet his eyes. “Listen, Shipp and Finn might be square, but I owe you now.”

He didn’t disagree, just dropped his gaze and stared into his liquor as his thumb made a slow circle around the glass’s edge. “Did you know Alya’s my mother?”

“What?” Shock left her gaping at him, and she snapped her mouth shut.

The corner of his mouth kicked up, but he didn’t look amused. “She was barely more than a kid. A third wife, with stepkids almost as old as she was. Half the people on that farm are either my stepmothers or my half-siblings.”

Trix could hardly believe it, not only because of Alya’s age, but because that meant she’d sent her
son
off on what could have been a suicide mission. “Why did she let you come with us? I don’t understand.”

“She didn’t want to. She got overruled. Shit is bad out there, Trix. My mother loves that farm, because it was the first thing that was ever hers, but I don’t think it’ll be safe forever.” Hawk sipped his drink and eyed Trix over the glass. “If I want to take care of my family, I need to start storing up favors.”

Another flash of surprise widened her eyes. “You want to stay here.”

He shrugged and finished his drink. “If nothing else, at least I’m not related to all of the women here.”

The matter-of-fact words drew a helpless laugh from her, though she quickly sobered. “Does Finn know?”

“Hard to say. He’s not big on small talk.”

She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other and glanced at Zan, who was trying very hard to focus on Jeni’s dance—and not on eavesdropping.

Not that it mattered. Her words weren’t a secret. “He could use a friend.”

After a moment, Hawk nodded his agreement. “He could. Maybe you’ll be able to convince him that’s true. The rest of us never had much luck.”

“I can try.” It was the only way he’d ever understand that he couldn’t stay for
her
.

He had to do it for himself.

From a professional standpoint, it was hard not to be impressed when Jared took off his shirt.

If Cruz had ever stopped to think about it, he might have assumed that being the living embodiment of female fantasy required a certain amount of physical discipline, but Jared’s body crossed the line from attractive to lethal.

Ace had either seen it too many times to be impressed or was simply oblivious, too focused on setting up his workstation. Markers, needles, and ink, the only things necessary to change a man’s life in Sector Four.

“Sit your fine ass down,” Ace directed Jared without looking up. “I’ve been waiting to get some ink on you for years, brother.”

Jared dropped into the chair, relaxing against the padded back. “Liar. You just wanted me at your mercy.”

“Quit flirting with me,” Ace chided. “You’ll make Cruz jealous.”

Cruz met Ace’s wicked look with an easy smile—and a peace he’d never imagined. “I know what’s mine.”

“Fabulous,” Jared said dryly. “And vaguely disgusting. It must be love.”

Ace laughed with his usual endearing obliviousness, too wrapped up in his newly won happiness to see that Jared was the one suffering the pangs of jealousy. Or maybe Jared simply hid it too well. Ace had always buried his vulnerabilities under a wave of manic cheer and filthy flirting. Jared was like the frozen surface of a lake—serene ice over dark waters you could only glimpse through the rare cracks.

It was the cracks that worried Cruz. Jared was a touchstone in Ace’s life, a friend who had been family long before Ace had found the O’Kanes. Losing him would tear at Ace’s heart in a way Cruz couldn’t tolerate—and couldn’t stop.

If the cracks weren’t filled by something else.

Discarding subtlety, Cruz settled in for a little minor recon. “I heard Dallas made you another offer.”

Jared’s gaze sharpened. “He wants me to run that speakeasy in Eden, the one he and Liam Riley took over after the bootlegger attacks. If he had his way, he’d turn me into my very own well-dressed noir novel. All that’s missing is a femme fatale to ruin me forever.”

“Oh, we can find you one of those, easy.” Ace braced a hand on Jared’s chest and traced the first line in bright blue marker. “A refugee from Two, maybe. Orchids are the new femme fatale.”

“A woman just like me? No, thank you.”

That made Ace frown, so Cruz cut in before he could respond defensively and derail the conversation. “It’s an interesting idea. We’ve mapped the tunnels to the warehouse across the street. Noah thinks he can arrange for the O’Kanes to purchase it via proxy. Establishing a foothold inside of Eden could change things.”

Jared snorted. “No offense, but I’m not sure I want to be the vanguard of O’Kane’s invasion of Eden.”

In some ways, he already was. Jared sparked desire to life in the women who paid him, and Cruz knew how swiftly an addiction to
feelings
could take hold. Rachel and Ace had stripped him of a lifetime of repression in a few short months.

Sometimes, for those women, Jared did it in a single night.

Rubbing a hand over his neatly trimmed beard, Cruz studied Jared’s face, searching for any hint of unguarded emotion, any clue. “I think O’Kane just wants you to join up, period. He’d let you do damn near anything you want.”

“One wonders why.”

Ace snorted rudely. “One suspects it’s because you’re a brilliant, fancy fucker.”

“Since when has Dallas O’Kane had any use for fancy shit?”

Probably since the uneducated-bootlegger act had worn thin. Dallas had played it to the hilt for years, but Cruz had seen it fraying at the edges in the short time he’d been a member of the gang. Dallas couldn’t hide his shrewd mind forever, and the more power he gathered into his hands, the less he seemed to like playing ignorant barbarian.

But that was a private observation, something for O’Kane ears alone. Jared was as close as you could be without taking ink—but that line was still there, even if Ace ignored it. Maybe that was the reason Cruz couldn’t stop trying to sell Jared on the idea.

Ace’s heart was more easily bruised than most people realized, and it was Cruz’s job to keep it whole and safe. “O’Kane has always had a use for brilliance.”

He laughed and reached for a cigarette, causing Ace to push him back into place with a wordless noise of protest. Jared lit the cigarette carefully, exhaled, and looked at Cruz through the wreath of smoke. “I didn’t know you had taken up recruitment.”

Cruz made the mistake of meeting those dark brown eyes, and Jesus
Christ
. Jared had perfected bedroom eyes to a degree that was as chilling as it was affecting. It was hard to remember that the same man had trained Jared and Ace, when Ace’s friendly, shameless lust came from a place of such warmth and Jared’s—

The frozen lake again, only this time he was staring straight into the waters’ chilly depths.

It was hypnotic, and uncomfortably seductive. That was undoubtedly what Jared intended, to use his desirability and Cruz’s inevitable discomfort as an effective means of shutting down the conversation. It was a tactic that would have worked even a month ago, so Cruz paused to appreciate the effort.

And then he shut it down. “Ace, your friend’s eyeing me like he wants to get his hands on my dick.”

“Of course he does,” Ace replied without looking up. He finished another part of his sketch and thumped Jared lightly on the chest. “Behave, brother. No one’s allowed to touch Cruz’s dick unless Rachel’s here to watch.”

The teasing words did what Jared’s gaze couldn’t—brought heat to Cruz’s cheeks as his too-vivid imagination conjured Rachel into the midst of this scene, her eyes bright and eager as he put on whatever show she wanted.

“He still blushes,” Jared murmured, low and dark. “I like it.”

“Fuck off,” Cruz muttered. But the darkness in Jared’s voice stirred an echo inside him, a protective, possessive fury that should have risen up at the first sign of flirtation. He still struggled with the openness some of the other O’Kanes embraced so easily. Ace and Rachel were his, won through blood and pain, and he wasn’t eager to share.

But something about Jared was different. He was dangerous, no doubt. A lethal man dressed in the trappings of refinement. But he was wounded.

And he was Ace’s. Important to Ace’s past, a strong presence in his life. That made him important to Cruz. Maybe that was how a man as possessive as Dallas O’Kane could watch with unconcerned appreciation when another O’Kane laid eager hands on Lex.