Harlow was sure they were just teasing about the second choice thing, and she couldn’t deny that there had been a spark between her and Ryske from the very beginning. Maze wasn’t wrong about that. But what she and Ryske were was still ambiguous. They hadn’t put language to it yet.
While she might have decided to drop the barriers she’d built between them, she hadn’t really figured out what she wanted them to be, or what they could be.
“Fun as it would be to debate what Trink and I are,” Ryske said, laying his hand on hers to flatten it on his chest, stalling her nails in their tracks. “We have bigger things to deal with.”
“Like what?” Noon asked.
Maze sighed. “Guess tonight didn’t go well. What’s the report?”
Ryske shrugged. “Went exactly like we thought it would.” He side-nodded toward her. “ ‘Cept this one showed up. Ophelia played to having the competition around. And, Trink, man, she’s a fucking natural in the field.”
The pair in armchairs aimed their focus on her. “Why were you there?” Maze asked. “Work? Did you know Ryske would be there?”
“I knew he would be there,” she said and licked her lips. “Well, I hoped he’d be there… It had been kind of implied to me that he would be.” Harlow was aware that she wasn’t making much sense. Telling them everything, and putting it in context, was more difficult than she’d realized it would be, which gave her more respect for why the crew weren’t forthcoming with her. “Ryske wasn’t why I was there… I… I didn’t really have a choice.”
“Hagan has been holding her since Monday,” Ryske explained.
That surprised both Maze and Noon. Seeing their shock gave her confirmation that they hadn’t known about her predicament. They’d been unaware; it wasn’t that they just hadn’t cared enough to do anything about it.
“What the fuck?” Maze said, shooting to his feet. “We’ve got to take that bastard down. That’s two of ours he’s come for!”
“Sounds like I’m missing one helluva party,” Dover said.
Twisting to look over the back of the couch, Harlow saw him coming through the stairwell door she and Ryske had used. Crossing to them, he did a handshake thing with Ryske and then put a hand on the back of the couch to bow and kiss her cheek like he’d anticipated her presence.
“Hagan’s been holding Nightingale,” Noon said.
Dover paused on his way to the kitchen and turned to look at her for confirmation, so she nodded. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically,” she said. “But the guy is an asshole.”
“We could’ve told you that,” Dover said and continued his walk into the kitchen where he opened the fridge.
“What are we going to do?” Maze asked.
“You’re going to sit down,” Dover said, closing the fridge to show he’d retrieved a beer. “And Nightingale is going to tell us exactly what happened.”
Dover went to the dining table and sat in one of the chairs behind Noon and Maze. Her attention drifted to Ryske whose hand skimmed up her back and under her hair to give the back of her neck a squeeze.
“We’re listening.”
For some reason, she was nervous. Despite that, Harlow took a long, deep breath, and began telling her story, filling in as many details as she could about her week in Hagan’s apartment. No one interrupted, they just listened, and for a time her words were the only sound in the air.
Ryske’s hand had moved on her back once in a while, encouraging her on, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “Brash visited my room a few times. He liked to think he was taunting me and did get handsy,” she said, stroking Ryske’s chest when he tensed. “I don’t think he really meant to do anything to me. I…” Her cheeks warmed at what she had to confess. To distract herself, she let her hand slip south on Ryske’s torso to outline his ab tattoo with a fingernail. “I implied that I thought they were together.”
“Who were together?” Maze asked.
“Brash and Hagan, I—”
The instant sound of masculine laughter cut her off. Ryske hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her forehead to his mouth.
“Bet he fucking loved that,” Dover said.
Harlow shrugged. “I think getting close to me was Brash’s way of trying to prove something. Like he thought I’d never question his sexuality again if he noticed my boobs enough.”
“Sounds like he was trying too hard. I thought Animal was the one who took pleasure in pleasing Hagan,” Ryske said. “Maybe I missed what the other goon felt.”
“I was just teasing them,” she said, patting Ryske.
Being this close to Ryske was enchanting. Having personal access to him was a gift and an honor. It was intimate to be this familiar with him and to be so accepted by his crew who seemed to view this situation as normal even though they’d never done it before. They’d hung out at her apartment plenty of times, but until that night, she’d never been in their home.
“You’re good, Trink,” Ryske said, kissing her head again.
Something made her cup his jaw and turn to steal his mouth with her own. Maybe she just needed the comfort of his kiss, or maybe she wanted to remind him that he was allowed to do more than just kiss her hair. As proved by them writhing together on the couch earlier, he had access to more intimate parts of her.
Their eyes met after the kiss and without meaning to, she’d conveyed the latter message. His arm descended on her back until he was holding her hip and he pulled her closer, deeper onto his lap. Harlow moved her forehead to his, but he tipped his head back, rolling their mouths closer so they could kiss again.
“We figure out what changed there yet?” Dover asked.
Harlow was too interested in caressing Ryske and enjoying his kiss to worry about what Dover was saying. “Still refusing to come home with me?” she murmured, rubbing Ryske’s chest. “Don’t want it now I’m not putting up a fight?”
“Oh, I want it, baby,” he said, his hand snaking under her shirt to cup her ass. “And I’m going to take it too.”
That was poetry. A shiver joined her smile and she kissed him again, unable to restrain herself.
“She can’t go home,” Maze said.
That comment made her kiss slow.
“No,” Dover said. “It’s not safe.”
“Not until we know why Hagan went after her.”
Harlow broke the kiss and twisted to glare at the guys. “I can go home. I know why he came after me.”
“Why?” all of them asked.
Touching her finger to the center of Ryske’s chest, she made eye contact with each of the other men.
“Ryske?” Noon asked.
“Clyde,” she said, curling her fingers until her fist was resting on Ryske’s chest. “Hagan’s man saw how this guy reacted to Clyde downstairs.”
“And less then twenty-four hours later, he had you under lock and key,” Dover said, thumping the side of his fist on the table. “Damnit.”
“So that’s why he was taunting me with you,” Ryske said. “He wanted me to react.”
She shrugged. “Guess he didn’t bank on Ophelia distracting you.”
Harlow hadn’t asked about Anwen. She would. But she’d ask Ryske when they were alone, assuming that he’d give her a more honest answer without his crew scrutinizing him. Though, if she didn’t feel she was getting the full truth, she would go to Dover or Maze. Noon would be a good source of information too, and he did tend to be more forthcoming. But he’d also be likely to tell Ryske she was prying.
“Distracting Ryske is Ophelia’s favorite pastime,” Maze muttered, but seemed to be contemplating something else.
All of the men were lost in their thoughts. Seeing them at work while not saying a word was odd. Each of them was making plans and trying to figure things out for themselves.
Turning her focus to Ryske, Harlow stroked his torso again and rested her face against his jaw. She hadn’t told him about her conversation with Ophelia at the bar either, not just the Anwen bit, but the part where Ophelia had accused her of being in love with him. That same conversation had led Harlow to making some assumptions of her own about Ophelia’s feelings.
It had been a long week and now that she was safe, exhaustion began to creep in. There were still so many unanswered questions, like what the million apiece was supposed to be for, and how Parratt and Yarker fitted into the equation.
“Are you going to call her?” Noon asked.
Ryske lost his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her skull. “Ophelia? Nah, not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe Monday.”
“Always leave ‘em wanting more,” Noon said as though it was a line he and Ryske had used before, or maybe one Ryske had taught him.
That same sound of someone socking someone else made Harlow peek from the corner of her eye.
Noon was rubbing the back of his head, and Maze’s hand was hovering just above it. “You think Ryske wants you saying shit like that in front of his girlfriend?”
“Is she his girlfriend?” Dover asked.
“What does that mean for the job?” Noon asked.
Three pairs of expectant eyes landed on her. Those were the ones she could see. At her side, she could feel expectation coming from Ryske too. These four men expected her to figure this out? Alone?
Harlow didn’t know anything beyond her attraction and her feelings for the man at her side.
“I have no plans to steal Ryske away from you,” she said, beginning to feel awkward enough about what they wanted from her that she pushed away from Ryske to climb onto her feet. “I’m going home… And I’m keeping your shirt.” Going home in his shirt might seem to be an overstep, but she didn’t want to put Hagan’s dress back on. “Can someone loan me twenty bucks for a cab? I have literally nothing on me.”
“Trinket,” Ryske said, leaning forward to take her hand. She expected him to reassure her, to say something charming or soothing that would make her feel less self-conscious about their relationship or his friends’ scrutiny of it. Instead, he used his matter of fact expression to shock her. “We’re not gonna let you go home.”
His thumb began to move on her knuckles, but she was too shocked by his words to let the caress settle her. Seeking the rest of the crew, she found the other three men were wearing the same resolute expressions.
“You… you’re kidding, right?” Each shook their heads. Harlow snatched her hand away from Ryske to take a step back. “I came here because I trusted you… I told you what happened because I… I thought we were on the same side.”
“We are,” Ryske said.
Harlow shook her head. “You can’t say that and then threaten to hold me prisoner.”
“She can’t go back to work either,” Maze said. “Or contact anyone.”
Ryske bent over to take his jacket from the floor, where it had fallen after she cast it off. He dipped his hand in his pocket to retrieve something that he then tossed to Maze.
“I’d guess he’s planted something,” Ryske said.
Maze turned the item over and over in his hands. Harlow gasped and pointed at him. “Oh my God, that’s my phone! How did you—”
“Hagan left it on the couch,” Ryske said. She recalled Hagan throwing something and leaving, then Ryske picking up that item as they’d departed. “We can’t be sure it’s secure, Maze will figure it out.”
Her fists went to her hips. “Let me get this straight. You’re keeping my phone and refusing to let me leave… that’s exactly what Hagan did!”
Her outrage didn’t affect any of the men’s resolve. “Yeah, but you’ll get sex here,” Ryske said. “Incredible sex.”
Her lips circled. She laughed and groaned at the same time. “Oh, ho, ho, I doubt that, buddy. I sure wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” she said, swatting his hand away when he tried to touch her thigh.
“Wow, it is like a real relationship,” Noon said.
“He doesn’t have to be the one who gives her sex, if it’s only him she’s pissed at,” Maze said.
After winking at her, Maze’s gaze moved to Ryske, who was probably glaring. Maze winked at him too and then laughed with Noon and Dover joining in a second later.
“Who should go first?” Dover asked.
“We could draw straws,” Noon said.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” Maze said.
The trio all shifted to bring their fists into a central position like they were really about to play. Ryske jumped in before they could. “Any of you even think about touching her, I’ll castrate you then turn CI.”
That was another laugh. Dover had said they’d been friends for a long time. Over the years, they’d got up to God only knew what. No doubt they had a lot of dirt on each other and the power to send the others to prison ten times over.
It might be a joke to them, but Harlow was less amused by their game given that they were threatening her.
“I don’t know,” she said, relaxing her hip and letting one hand fall to her side. Scanning the amused trio, she pretended to ponder her options. “I told Ryske I didn’t want promises, which means, technically he can screw around as much as he likes… It can’t be one rule for him and a different one for me. That means I’m still on the market, boys.”
The three looked around at each other like they didn’t quite know what to do. She was still pouting at them when Ryske snatched her wrist and yanked her down to his side.
Grabbing her chin, he pulled her face close to his. “I told you what I’d have done to that sap from your office if I’d been carrying a weapon,” he growled.
Yes, Ryske said he’d have shot Clyde if he’d had a gun.
“So?” she said, trying to seem unimpressed though his tightening grip on her arm was making it difficult to concentrate. “You’re not going to take down your own team.”
His brows rose. “Test that theory,” he hissed. “I won’t let another man have you. Any man touches you, and I don’t give a damn if he’s on my crew or not, I’ll slaughter him.”
“You think I believe that?” she asked, tugging at his hand, trying to free her arm.
It was useless. He was too strong and damn, if she didn’t find that hot. It was hard to hide her desire.
He leaned in closer, his teeth clenched. “Test me, Trinket.”
But she wouldn’t. Harlow wouldn’t mess around with other members of his crew. That didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to play with him, fun to piss him off, and push his buttons.
Forcing his mouth over hers, he stifled her with his kiss. Though Harlow objected, she didn’t really pull away. Eventually, he broke the kiss and dropped his hand, so she shoved away and leaped to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Dover drew in a breath and blew it out. “And this is why we never had women on the team,” he muttered.
“Until now,” Maze said in the same tone.
Noon was the only one grinning. “This is gonna be fun!”