Dallas

O'Kane Liquor prospered through hard work, and that work had to be done every day, even when Dallas's right-hand man was wandering around like a pussy-whipped fool. Not that an outsider would be likely to notice the change in Jasper's stony expression, but Dallas had known his friend too long. Noelle was a sweet little piece of ass, and Jasper was well and bloody hooked.

Even now a tiny smile played around the edges of the other man's mouth. At least Bren looked like his usual violent self. In five minutes, the door across the room would open, spilling out reluctant allies who could become enemies with damn near no provocation. Dallas had picked the meeting point this time, an abandoned bar on the border between the third and fourth sectors. Everyone was less twitchy in neutral territory, but violence had broken out before--and would again.

But hopefully not today. "So is your girl ready for her big welcome party, Jas?" Dallas asked.

"Yeah, bandaged wrists and all." Jasper arched an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts about letting her in so fast?"

He'd left second thoughts behind the day the girl had stumbled into Jasper. Tonight, he was having fifteenth thoughts. "Just counting the days until you mark her."

That straightened out the edges of the man's smile. "We'll see."

At least the bastard was glaring, and none too soon. Footsteps shuffled in the hallway, and Dallas nodded to Bren and Jas before relaxing into a deceptively casual sprawl that left his hand close to the gun strapped to his thigh. "Here we go."

Wilson Trent always glared, and today was no exception. He walked in, followed by four of his men, and surveyed the room before taking a seat. "O'Kane."

"Trent." The other leader had brought more than the customary two lieutenants for backup, but it was the tightness around his eyes that told Dallas they were treading close to a trap. Trent's glare seemed too forced, too fixed. Anticipation hung in the air, so thick Dallas could taste it.

Fuck. The bastard was going to play one of his games.

He confirmed the suspicion a heartbeat later. "I'm surprised you didn't just send your men tonight. Word in the sectors is you've got your hands full playing daddy over in Four."

Damn Jasper, and damn Lex too. They'd plucked a girl off the street like shining heroes, and everyone smelled weakness. "Never too busy for you, Trent," Dallas replied mildly, trusting Jasper to keep a leash on his temper for the words that followed. "But we can talk about the new girl if you want. Big eyes, tight little pussy. Ever defiled one of Eden's angels? They start out shocked, but if you break 'em in right, they'll beg for cock."

Trent shrugged one shoulder. "What new girl? I was talking about that dancer--" He turned to the muscle on his left. "What's her name, again?"

"Alexa," the man rumbled.

"That's the one."

Lies. They reeked of deception, but Dallas couldn't blink. Couldn't flinch, couldn't stir so much as an eyelash and give them the impression Lex meant a damn thing to him. He certainly couldn't cut out the man's tongue for daring to say her name.

Watching him bleed and cry would brighten up Dallas's shitty day, though.

He hadn't gotten this far without being as good at lying as he was at spotting liars, so he smiled. "Lex is a hell of a dancer. Not too easy to shock, though, if that's your thing."

Trent lifted one hand and signaled his men. "I brought her something. Figured you could deliver it for me."

It took everything in Dallas not to tense as the door opened again. A feminine growl of outrage preceded the unmistakable sound of an open palm cracking against skin, and he put it together with Trent's taunting question about Noelle--and it had been about her, before the bastard had wiggled the knife for a weak spot--and saw the shape of the trap.

So he wasn't surprised when one of Trent's men dragged a struggling brunette into the room. She was a sleek creature, curves over muscles and shapely legs shown off by a skimpy miniskirt. Her leather bra matched. So did the cuffs that trapped her wrists together and the collar around her throat. Her cheek bore a vivid handprint, but she seemed unsubdued. When the man dragging her jerked the chain connecting her collar to her cuffs, she snarled and spit on him.

"Charming," Dallas drawled, turning his attention back to Trent. "But Lex already has a new toy. If I give her two girls to play with in one month, she'll get spoiled."

"Slavery," Jasper spat. "It's dirty, even for you, Trent."

"Don't be such a snot. You might call it something different over here in Four, but pretty words don't change facts. You peddle more flesh than I'd know what to do with."

Dallas raised two fingers. "Enough." Trent's men would beat the shit out of the girl if they thought it would goad one of Dallas's men into a reaction, and Jas was just softhearted enough to walk into the trap.

He'd give him hell if they had to leave the kid to Trent's nonexistent mercies, though. Dallas gave her poor odds of surviving the night.

With an internal sigh, he tested the edges of the trap. "If she's such a prize, why are you getting rid of her?"

"Because she's--" Trent stopped short when Bren yawned, then shook his head. "She's not my type. I like blondes."

The brunette bared her teeth in a half-crazed grin. "And he couldn't stay on top of me."

It earned her another backhanded slap and a choking jerk on her collar, and Dallas hardened his heart against her involuntary tears of pain. Only a mewling excuse for a man had to beat a woman to keep her in her place, but this girl wasn't his responsibility. Every time he showed weakness, he endangered the women who already trusted him with their safety. He couldn't save them all.

Seeing the unfeigned hatred in her eyes, Dallas wondered if it might be worth it to save this one. There was intelligence there too--though it was difficult to see through the rage--and his gut told him she could be a useful source of information. Trent, in his idiocy, had always underestimated women.

Intimate association with Lex had long since taught Dallas better. "Bren, you like girls with fight in them. You want to break this one in?"

He inclined his head in a slow nod. "I can handle her."

"In your dreams," the girl snarled.

Dallas ignored her and quirked an eyebrow at Trent. "I'm not paying for her, if that's what you're hoping. I'm here to discuss our trade agreement."

"I know." Trent reached out and poked the girl in the hip. "Consider her a bonus, and our terms stay the same. I think that's more than fair."

The brunette opened her mouth again, and Dallas cut her off before she could say something that would stab at Trent's tiny ego and blow the whole thing up in their faces. "Gag her. I'm sick of the screeching."

"Yes, sir." Bren rose, unwinding a length of fabric from his wrist as he moved.

The girl fought when he touched her, thrashing with the blind instinct of an untrained street brawler. She knew how to land an elbow in a sensitive spot, but instinct couldn't compete with Bren, who stood impassive and unyielding as she battered at him. She even sank her teeth into his arm hard enough to draw blood, and he just stared down at her until she began to still. "You done?"

Hatred burned in her dark eyes, but Dallas caught another hint of animal cunning too. Maybe she recognized a rescue, because she did the smartest thing yet.

She kept her fucking mouth shut.

Dallas returned his attention to Trent. "What's her name?"

"Six." Trent leaned back in his chair. "You like?"

He shrugged as Bren gagged the girl with that same bland detachment. Jas was probably fuming inside, but Six would survive a little callous handling a lot easier than whatever Trent meted out to the women who pissed him off. "Like what? Her name? Her looks? Pussy in general?"

Trent laughed. "You're an odd man, O'Kane. Are we square?"

"We're square. Your usual shipment of grain for our usual shipment of liquor. And we won't sell to anyone else in Sector Three."

The man spread his hands wide. "Then everyone's leaving here happy. Tomorrow night, you know the place."

"I do." Dallas let Trent rise before grinning. "And, Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time you feel generous, Lex likes redheads. Sweet ones with big tits."

"I'll remember that. Hell..." Trent shrugged. "Maybe I'll set my sights on figuring out what else she likes."

Real men. The thought of what Lex would do to a spineless, pathetic bastard like Trent was the only thing that kept Dallas smiling. That and the fact that the idiot was tipping his hand, poking and prodding for a weak spot.

Trouble was coming, and he needed to be ready. "See you tomorrow."

Trent slipped out the back door. His guards filed after him, one pausing for a long last look at Jasper, who bared his teeth in a snarl.

Dallas waited until he heard the rumble of engines outside. Bikes, because Trent's sector barely had roads and the cars Dallas kept running would be useless. Sighing, he pointed a finger at Six. "It's your lucky day, sweetheart. Play nice now, and gagging you's the worst we'll ever do."

She stood stiffly in Bren's grip, her mouth bisected by the gag, but it didn't take her long to nod once.

Smart girl. "Get her to the car, Bren."

"I don't like it," he murmured.

"I know. That's why you're taking her to the car instead of Jasper. Pat her down too, for Christ's sake."

"You got it." He urged the girl toward the other exit, leaving Dallas and Jasper alone.

Dallas allowed himself a sigh. "Odds are good she's a spy."

"Or worse." Jasper retrieved a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "Trent seems pretty pleased with himself."

"Sure does." Dallas pulled out his own cigarettes and tapped the pack on the table. "Trent and I have always had a difference of opinion when it comes to women and their uses. Maybe he wised up and that girl's a trap. And maybe she's just a distraction, and the trap's going to get a whole lot of us really fucking dead tomorrow."

"There are ways to minimize losses."

"And we'll take them." Dragging smoke into his lungs, he rose. "Tomorrow. Tonight, we've got a party to get to. Don't get too wasted, eh? Leave that to the lady."

"Noelle will be all right." Jasper's gaze drifted to the door. "What about that one?"

"If she cooperates, she'll be all right too." Dallas clapped Jasper on the shoulder. "Cheer up, buddy. Even if she is a spy, Trent treats his women like something he scraped off his shoes. Any of our girls would spit on the best he has to offer. We make that clear enough, chances are she'll turn."

"Or else?" Jasper snorted. "Maybe we should have said no. It's less of a risk."

"Call it a hunch." It was the only explanation Dallas intended to give, and for Jasper--for now--it would be enough. Most of his people knew to trust his instincts.

As they rolled out of the meeting place, Dallas's gut told him something else. Something in Jasper had shifted already, whether the man wanted to admit it or not. He'd come face-to-face with a legitimate damsel in some serious fucking distress, and he'd fixated on the risk she represented.

Jasper was thinking like a man who held lives in his hands. Maybe one life in particular. Dallas only wished his gut hadn't already warned him how much trouble Noelle Cunningham could be.