CHAPTER 12
The Armory was one of several built over the course of Manhattan’s history. A place for living, training, strategizing, and storing weapons and equipment, the one used by the Hudson Kings was as true to form in its current incarnation as it had been during the city’s earliest days.
A few of the city’s armories were public tourist attractions, event spaces even. Some of them had been turned over to private buyers and had been lost over time to history. Even if you managed to wind your way to the proper location and got past the massive brick walls shielding Rothgar’s complex from sight, you’d still probably think you were looking at crumbling history and some nondescript warehousing unless you had the right map. Get past the barbed wire, security cameras, and camouflage, and you had something very different.
Shane’s favorite part was the thirty-thousand-square-foot garage that had been a drill hall in the 1800s courtesy of President Lincoln’s request for troops during the Civil War. Now it housed the Hudson Kings’ vast collection of personal cars, trucks, and motorcycles in addition to a stable of mission-oriented ex-military vans, armored transports, and the odd piece of artillery or bomb squad equipment.
How Roth ended up owning this much Manhattan real estate was a question Shane hadn’t asked; whatever the case, it was Roth’s, and he’d opened it up to the men who formed the Hudson Kings, so Shane had a room here. It was the one place in this world, besides the interior of his car, where he felt comfortable.
And the only thing Roth had asked of the circle of men who knew the entry codes was that they keep the location on a need-to-know basis and give to the team the same balls-to-the-wall loyalty that they got.
Shane swung the car through a tunnel made out of glass and steel and came out the other side into a courtyard that still held what was obviously part of the original structure; the heart of the Armory looked like a castle. A massive brick castle.
“Dex lives here?” Cecily asked doubtfully. “I don’t know whether to hug him or hit him. Same goes for you.”
Before Shane could answer, Dex appeared at the top of the front steps, brace on his leg and cane in his hand. “Oh, my god, I’m definitely going to hug him first.” Cecily squealed and waved and jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. She raced up the steps like a bolt of energy, the gold in her hair glinting in the sun. She tackled Dex on the landing, and Shane smiled in spite of himself as she nearly took her brother down.
Watching the show, he wondered how in the hell he even gave a shit about what she did to Dex. All of Cecily’s goodness was literally walking away from him, being aimed at someone else, and it burned. He had no idea how the woman had gotten under his skin in such a short time. He half wished he could go back to the way he’d been before he met her, but he wasn’t willing to give up laughing with her, kissing her . . .
All the more reason to be glad she wasn’t his anymore. Shane, he thought, shaking his head, you crossed more than one line on this trip.
“Hey, Shane!” Just ahead of where Shane parked, Nick was hanging out in the front courtyard watching Chase operate a drone. The man raised a hand and gave a wave, that solid-gold old-school watch of his shining brighter than Cecily’s hair. Nick’s screwed-up freelance gig must still have been plaguing him, because the man usually breezed in for team meetings and right back out again without so much as tweaking the polish on his expensive brogues.
“Money in the back?” Nick asked.
“Yep,” Shane answered. “It’s unlocked. Same percentages. Thanks.”
“Good to see you,” Nick said. The financier shook Shane’s hand like he always did—like they were sealing a million-dollar deal—and headed for the BMW.
Chase steered the drone carefully through a maze of tree branches, lowered it to the ground in front of Shane’s feet, and then took a small pad of paper from his pocket and penciled a note. Along with Shane, the guy was a go-to floater and team generalist, but his specialty was building whatever it was you could dream up. Most people didn’t guess that behind the trickster smile, beat-up cowboy boots, moth-eaten Super Bowl T-shirt, and jeans so worn you could see the outline of his cell phone straight through the pocket was a serious-ass engineer.
“Yo.” Chase bumped fists. “Welcome back, man.”
From the top of the stairs, Cecily shrieked with delight as she roughhoused with her brother. Dex’d picked her up with his free arm and was throwing her over his shoulder. She was laughing her ass off.
Shane pulled Cecily’s suitcase from his trunk and set it down, mesmerized by the sound.
“Put me down,” Cecily screamed joyfully, beating on Dex’s back. Shane watched her fuss over Dex’s leg and point to the cane. And then she pointed to his stomach. Her brother gestured for her to hit him. She did and then shook out her “hurt” fist in mock pain, laughing, always laughing. Dex rolled his eyes at her for the benefit of the guys watching, but he was pleased.
Dex should be pleased. Cecily was just lit up with joy.
“Long drive?” Chase said with a grin, following Shane’s gaze.
Shane ignored him. Nick walked up with the money bags and set them against the tree trunk next to the drone gear, chuckling. “His mind is on short and sweet.”
Rothgar came out on the stairs, the corner of his mouth tipping up at the siblings as he breezed by them. Roth had maybe ten years on Shane, but the big man was fucking built like a ring fighter and still looked like he’d be a formidable competitor against any one of the Hudson Kings. He was wearing what the team liked to call his “office uniform”: boots under dark jeans and a dress shirt that he said was to remind him that even if the Armory was his home, he was always on the job. Of course, sharp as he made an effort to look, the salt-and-pepper in the scruff on Rothgar’s cut jaw made it difficult to resist the urge to tell a grandpa joke during team meals. And that said, far as Shane could tell, the guy’s looks fell squarely into the asset category when it came to women. Shane had seen him work more than one bar like a magnet without even trying.
“One piece,” Roth said gruffly. “Always a plus. You already got some plans we’ve got to work around, or can I count on you for an indefinite period of time?”
“I’ll stick around,” Shane said, turning away from the sight of Cecily tucking her hair behind her ears. “Gonna get the car to the garage for a tune-up.”
“I’ll get a meeting together,” Roth said, picking up Cecily’s bag and heading back up the stairs.
Shane turned and headed back to the car, feeling strangely empty. He got back into his car and shut the door, but the silence wasn’t a relief, not when he could still see Cecily smiling on the steps.
You had your chance.
Dex looked over and waved, mouthing “Thank you” and flashing a hand signal that said they’d talk later.
Shane raised his chin by way of an answer, then turned the key and stared unseeing at the dashboard computer. After a moment, he touched the gas and pulled away only to have to swerve very suddenly to one side as Cecily hurtled toward his car. The laughter was gone; she just looked worried. Shane lowered the window. “What’s up, sweetling?”
“You’ve got to get out of the car!” Her eyes were huge.
“What—”
“Get out of the car, Shane!”
Shane threw the car in park and got out, his eyes automatically searching for whatever threat had her all hopped up.
Nothing. He quirked an eyebrow.
Cecily launched herself into his arms so hard he fell back with her against the car door. His face nearly smothered in a pile of orange-scented hair, her neck warm, her body fitting perfectly under his hands. He watched Dex, still standing on the steps but now vacillating between disapproving and confused, and Chase and Nick letting the drone get tangled in tree branches as they continued to watch the show with extreme amusement.
Shane gave himself a moment to breathe in her scent, enjoy her warmth, the feel of her body one last time under his fingers, and then he gently detached her.
She stood there, eyes still like saucers, a million emotions swimming around in there like always. “I . . . we didn’t get to say good-bye.”
He waited. That was apparently it. “I’m not leaving, I’m parking. I live here.”
“What?”
“When I’m off the road, I live here.”
Cecily blinked, clearly trying to process. “Oh. You and Dex both live here.”
“Yeah.”
“And those other extremely huge, super-hot guys. All here?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they Flynn and Rothgar?”
“No. That’s Chase and Nick.”
Cecily exhaled slowly, a frown creasing her brow. “So there are more extremely huge, super-hot guys inside named things like Flynn and Rothgar, who explode things and plan ‘missions,’ who also live with you here.”
“You okay?” Shane asked, not inclined to opine about anybody’s definition of “super-hot.”
“I’ve got a lot to process. Everything you told me . . . and all the things you didn’t. I think my normal just got more abnormal,” Cecily said.
“I’ll take that as a yes, you’re okay.” Shane got back into the car.
Cecily stared up the stairs at her brother. Then over at Chase and Nick, who were having way too good a time watching her show. And then back at Shane.
“Kid.”
“Uh-huh?” Cecily managed.
“You’re leaning on the window.”
With a nervous titter, Cecily stepped away from the car.
Shane raised the window and put the car in gear, and only after he’d gone past the far side of the Armory and headed into the garage did he start laughing.