CHAPTER 32
When the Hudson Kings were whole, Allison and Missy must have made an adorable odd couple. Missy was all tomboy, Allison the ultimate girlie girl who had entire closets filled with high-end craft supplies, sewing embellishments, and party dresses.
In fact, she worked as a buyer for one of those fast fashion apps, and the apartment was decorated like an article about turning out your apartment for designer tastes on an economy budget.
The living room featured bold black-and-white stripes kicked up a notch with a hot-pink coffee table and super-fluffy pillows that looked like they could conceal a kitten for an hour or two, and you’d never notice the difference.
It wasn’t so done up that it was uncomfortable, though. On the contrary. Ally had made it ultimately about being comfy, and at the present moment she and Cecily were entombed in those furry throws, kicking back on the sofa, comparing the perfume strips pulled from a massive stack of fashion magazines.
It never felt like you weren’t supposed to touch anything. It just felt like someone made it nice enough to stay home so that you might think twice about going out—particularly, as Allison suggested, if there were no good men left in Manhattan who could compete with the warm embrace of a cashmere throw, a good movie, and a slice of pizza.
A buzzer sounded. “That was fast,” Allison said, getting up and heading for the intercom. She pressed a button and just said, “Come on up.”
Then she rummaged through the pocket of a coat hanging on a hook by the door, pulled out a few dollars, and said, “Hope you like pepperoni. I got an extra large ’cause I like it for breakfast.”
She opened the door, yelped, “Oh, shit,” and slammed the door.
Cecily leaped up from the sofa, her heart pounding. “Not the pizza?”
“Not the pizza,” Allison whispered, every molecule in her body appearing to be on high alert.
“Open the door, Ally,” a man’s voice said. “If you were going to open it without even checking it was the pizza guy, you can open it for us.”
“Nobody likes a cold pie,” said a second very familiar voice. Cecily’s heart started pounding.
Allison kind of stood there, staring at the closed door, wringing her hands.
“Allison?” Cecily prompted. No response. You can do this. It will be the good-bye you wished you’d had. She stepped forward and looked through the peephole. Shane and Flynn waited outside, a pizza box between them. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Christ, Ally, have you forgotten everything you ever learned?” Flynn asked, barreling in and tossing the box on Ally’s coffee table. “Are the cameras to the front door of this building even on?”
Allison stared at Flynn for a minute and then seemed to wake up. “I have no idea, since I never think about them. I put all that stuff behind me.”
“Except you never turn away Missy’s strays. That’s not cutting ties, and you know it.”
“I guess some part of me thinks that if you ever find my brother’s bones, I want to make sure you know how to reach me,” she snapped.
Cecily sucked in a startled breath and then looked back at Shane, still standing outside the door.
He tipped his head, clearly taking her measure. His eyes moved down her body, pausing on her clothes. She’d only worn a dress around him that once, on their date. He obviously liked her in dresses. She shouldn’t have cared, but the blue floral she was sporting was one of three new summery dresses she’d picked up for peanuts at Century 21, with Ally as her personal shopper, and it fit perfectly, which meant he was taking in everything he’d thrown away: cleavage, curves, and legs. “Missy says you’re doing okay,” he said quietly. “You settling in, kid?”
Oh. That doesn’t sound like regret. “I’m great,” Cecily lied enthusiastically. Thud, thud, thud. I’m great, other than that just seeing you again is giving me a heart attack and you’ve already made it back to “kid.”
Shane’s fist clenched and unclenched. “Good. That’s good. Gonna help Flynn with Ally’s situation here.” He picked up a tool kit waiting by his feet and stepped past Cecily into the apartment, the warmth of his arm brushing hers. She closed her eyes for a second and then shut the door behind him.
“Jeez, well, hello, Shane. Come on in. By all means. Yeah. So, here’s the thing. I no longer have a situation. Haven’t had a situation in a long time,” Ally said. “If I wanted to live a life that included a situation, I’d have moved into the Armory when I had the chance.”
“You never lost the chance,” Flynn said. “The offer stands.”
Allison licked her lips, her body language awkward, her gaze steadier on the floor than on anything else. “You realize how much time has passed, right? I barely even recognize you.”
“You should see my good side,” he said, turning his profile sharply to the other side.
It was obvious that Flynn had been a really gorgeous-looking guy before he’d taken an explosive to the face. Cecily couldn’t know what he thought, but she thought that the mess on one side couldn’t detract from the overall picture. Maybe it was his self-confidence, and certainly the accident hadn’t lessened his natural charisma, but he still had it. Seeing the sleeves of his navy Henley rolled up, you got a sense of what else might lie beneath the rest of it, his cargoes, and the heavy boots: Muscle. Mass. Man. Cecily studied Allison and knew she wasn’t alone with this. The girl just wasn’t going to let the men see whatever she was really thinking and feeling.
Allison sucked in a quick breath and then pressed her lips together tightly for a moment as she processed a full view of Flynn’s messed-up face. “People who hang out with the Hudson Kings don’t seem to last as long as people who don’t.”
“Truth be told, as a team, Roth makes us last a lot longer than we would on our own.”
Allison snorted.
Shane pointed to the foyer ceiling, and Flynn looked up at a jagged area in one corner. “You rip those wires out?” Flynn asked.
“I sure did,” Ally said.
Cecily felt Shane’s eyes on her; she forced herself not to look over. One touch of his arm was one touch too many.
“I’m gonna put them back,” Flynn said. “You gonna do it again?”
Ally paused and then belligerently asked, “You gonna watch me walk around in my underwear if I don’t rip them out?”
“Well, you look real good to me, honey, but I’ll have to say no. I don’t sit at my desk and watch a live stream of our tagged friendlies getting off and eating breakfast. I actually have things to do. If we have reason to believe the threat level’s up, we’ll let you know and take it from there.”
“My threat level hasn’t been up since Graham disappeared. Not once. It’s over, and there’s nothing left to say about it.” She said this bitterly enough to grab everybody’s attention, and Cecily felt the loss of Shane’s gaze.
Flynn turned to Shane. “You take the front of the place; I’ll take the back, yeah?” Shane nodded and moved away, but Ally stood her ground in front of Flynn.
He sighed. “Would it be asking too much for a glass of water?”
“If you want to look around, you’re gonna look around. Get your own damn water if you’re actually thirsty. You don’t need to fake it.”
“Not with you, for sure,” Flynn said, looking Ally up and down.
“Are you flirting with me?” Ally asked in disbelief.
“So, can I look around your place and install some new wires?” he asked by way of a complete nonanswer.
Allison just stared at Flynn’s ravaged face.
“Faulty equipment,” he said tightly. “A freelancer who wasn’t as good as he said he was. You should see his face.”
A look of pain crossed Ally’s face. “‘Tagged friendlies,’ huh,” she muttered, just under her breath.
“The guys miss you,” Flynn said. “There’s always a job for you there too. We don’t have anyone there good with languages. Using freelance now.”
“Thanks, but fashion risks are the only risks I’m interested in taking.” Her voice was flat.
The smile on his face vanished. “Water and then the install?” Flynn pressed. “I’m actually thirsty.”
“Yeah,” Ally said, oddly defeated. They disappeared into the kitchen.
Cecily turned to Shane, but he was already off on his own, stalking around the apartment doing a repeat of what he’d done at the hotel, and more, poking at various wires, getting showered with dust, and the like.
Within minutes he was standing on one of Ally’s dining room chairs, protecting the upholstery with a Vogue and doing something clever with a screwdriver in the light above the dining room table.
Cecily watched him work, feeling her composure begin to slip. She remembered the scent of his skin when she tucked her face in his neck. She thought of his mouth taking hers and the sensation of those slow strokes when he—holy crap, you need to stop thinking about that! Wiping away sweat from the back of her neck, she grasped at normalcy, asking, “How’s Dex? You guys back to normal?”
“We’ll get there,” Shane said. He pulled a small black object from his pocket and began installing it in the light fixture. “Anything weird going on? Any gut feelings or weird electronic shit I should know about? James get in touch?”
“I wouldn’t keep that to myself. It’s been quiet since I left,” Cecily said, hating every second of this measured, friendly, too-polite conversation. She watched his muscles working as he tweaked the fixture one last time and jumped off the chair.
“I guess things are back to normal for all of us.” She had no idea why, but she curled her fingers around the bulk of his bicep and gave him a squeeze.
Shane looked down at her hand on his arm, something yearning sparking in his eyes. “I wish . . .”
A thread of hope curled around Cecily’s heart.
But he just smiled and said, “I wish I hadn’t jerked you around so much. Wasn’t intentional. I wanted what I wanted. I wanted to have it all, but I guess nobody gets to have that. We had some good moments. Nah, some fantastic moments that I’ll always have with me.”
Shane pulled away and put his tools back in the kit. “You’re going down exactly the right path. This is all right. You’re gonna do that arty stuff you like and mix it up with some arty kids at school, and it’s all going to make sense. And you can rest easy knowing that Dex and I will be waiting to beat the crap out of anybody who does you wrong, and you’ll never have to worry again about some douchebag turning your life upside down. You’re gonna rebuild. And I’m gonna rebuild. And life is going to be better for the time we spent together. And that’s really all there is to say.”
Before Cecily could get a single word out, Flynn’s face popped around the doorframe. “I’m done.”
“Likewise,” Shane said.
Cecily followed them to the door being held open by a sullen-looking Allison.
Flynn spun around. “Listen, Ally, I know you have a direct line to Rothgar you’ve never once used, not even when you ran into money trouble last year—”
“I figured it out—” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Hey, how did you know?”
Flynn paused but then said, “If it’s because you don’t want to bug the big guy, bug me instead. Or Shane. Or whoever you want. But call.”
“I don’t need to bug any of you,” she said resolutely. “I can call Missy if something comes up.”
“Except you never do,” Flynn said.
Allison was silent for a moment. “Nope, I never do,” she finally said. “Apparently nothing ever comes up. Nothing that could possibly make me want to call any of the Hudson Kings.”
She and Flynn stared at each other to the point where Cecily looked at Shane in alarm; he was carefully blank, as usual. Which meant, Cecily knew, that whatever was going on between the lines here wasn’t nothing.
Flynn finally broke contact and reached for his wallet.
“I don’t want your money,” Ally said.
Cecily smiled at Shane before she remembered they couldn’t really have any in-jokes anymore. But he smiled back, which was the worst thing he could possibly do. He remembered. And he cared. Pain clutched at her heart. Normal was going so well. Normal was working. Normal didn’t have any drama. But normal also didn’t have any Shane. God, I miss you.
Flynn took out a business card and set it down on the table. “Time’s been real good to you, Allycat,” he said, his eyes on hers. She didn’t say a word, and he grinned. “Don’t feel like you need to return the compliment.” He walked over the threshold and looked back for Shane. Allison released an audible sigh of . . . Cecily wasn’t sure what.
“Take care of yourself,” Shane said.
“You too,” Cecily said. “It was good to see you.” Without thinking, without taking a moment to control her impulses, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth against Shane’s mouth. Absolute heaven. Good-bye, Shane.
His body tensed. “Shit, Cecily, I was doing so fucking well.” All of a sudden he pushed her against the front door so it slammed shut with Ally and Flynn on the opposite side.
He crushed his mouth down on hers, the banked fire exploding into flames between them. Cecily closed her eyes and savored the sweep of his tongue, the tension in his body as he held her in his arms. The skirt of her dress ruffled up against the wall, and his hand swept her bare thigh.
But just as suddenly as it began, it ended. They faced each other, arm distant, breath coming in fits and starts, eyes wild. Cecily stood there trembling. In a daze, Shane slowly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth more like he was branding himself than taking anything away.
From behind the door—and likely behind the peephole—Ally said, “Damn.”
And finally Shane spoke. “You happy in your new life, Cece? You happy living here with Allison, doing normal?”
“Yes,” whispered Cecily.
“’Cause I found out I like meeting you halfway. I think part of me came to you that night to see if you could handle the worst of the things that get thrown my way. I don’t know what I was thinking, exactly. But my timing was off. Went to fix it the next morning, I was too late.” His eyes met hers. “Wondering if our timing is still off.”
Oh, god. Oh, god.
But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t handle Shane changing his mind again. She couldn’t take the risk that he’d realize he’d made a mistake again. She couldn’t see living through another end, so this time, she wasn’t going to offer a beginning. “I’m happy doing normal, Shane,” she whispered.
He held her gaze. “Got you.” After a moment of silence, during which Cecily fought a war in her head, he added, “Just remember I’ve got your back.” He rapped sharply on the door and then just hit the stairs, Flynn following at his heels with a quick salute as he passed.
Cecily went inside and closed the door behind her, and the two women stood there staring at the wood frame until Allison said, “At least we have beer.”
They looked at each other and burst into stunned laughter and then headed for the fridge, where Ally grabbed a couple of cold ones and handed one to Cecily, who took a long, cold swig and swiped at the tears in her eyes. She stared at the bottle remembering Chase and Shane goofing off in the Armory garage, Shane stripping down and doing a dance, Shane’s body covering hers, entering hers, making love to her . . .
“You’ll be, okay,” Ally said, a look of commiseration on her face as they moved from the kitchen to the living room. “It takes a while to shake a man like that, but you’ll be okay.”
Cecily nodded, gripping the bottle extra hard so her hand wouldn’t shake.
Ally took a couple of pulls of her beer and then said breathlessly, “What happened to Flynn?”
“I don’t know. He wasn’t like that when you knew him before?”
“Shit, no! I mean, he had his whole face.” Allison flopped back on the sofa. “I hate the Hudson Kings. I fucking hate them all.”
Cecily took the seat next to her. “Ally,” she said gently, “I think we’ve both got some stuff we need to share with each other. They weren’t just here because of your past; they’re here for mine too.”
“I know. Missy doesn’t send me people without pasts,” Allison said with a laugh. “I don’t mind if you know about mine.” She took a deep breath. “Missy and Apollo and Graham and I grew up together,” she said, pointing to a framed picture on the bookcase. “That was three years ago. Probably the most normal thing we ever did.”
Cecily reached for the frame. Two couples at a prom. Allison with a guy who looked like Missy; Missy with a guy who looked like Allison. “Apollo and Graham,” she murmured.
“Yeah, that’s my brother,” Allison looked at her with steely eyes. “It was the perfect plan. We were all gonna get married someday, and Missy and I would be sisters forever. It’s amazing how stupid kids can be. I even thought when the guys disappeared, Missy and I would help each other through it, but she looked to Rothgar and the rest of the men. They all just reminded me of what we lost. It’s easier for her to hole up in the Armory and pretend there’s still a search on, but Graham and Apollo are dead. They’d never go silent like this knowing we were waiting for a word. Never.”
Allison chewed on her lip. “Wow, I’ve never had anyone to talk to about it until now. Someone who knew about the Armory and stuff.”
“I don’t know all that much,” Cecily confessed.
“You’ve been inside there,” Allison said. “That’s saying a lot.”
“I got the impression Missy would love to talk to you, but—”
“We’re not friends anymore,” Ally said ferociously.
“Then why would she send me here? And why would you let me come?”
Ally crossed her arms over her chest. “You were the third time I’ve gotten an e-mail asking if I can house someone. I never answer, which she takes as a yes. She sends you with a key.”
“Why don’t you say no?” Cecily asked.
Ally affected a look of uncaring. “A week after you move in, I get a check for rent.”
Cecily studied her face. “But it’s not just the money.”
Different emotions warred across Allison’s face. “I don’t know why I don’t say no,” she finally whispered. “Maybe just to keep that connection, just in case, like I said.”
“That was the first time you’ve seen one of the guys in years? Why did they come now?”
“They still fancy that I’m Hudson Kings property. Probably will until I die. This is either just them making the rounds or . . .”
“Or what?” Cecily asked.
A smile blossomed across Allison’s face. “Or Shane Sullivan’s finally found the one thing he’d be willing to trade in his BMW for, and he wants to keep it safe.”
Cecily pressed her hand against her heart. Did I do the right thing? Did I just blow my last chance? But . . . we just couldn’t make it work. She looked down at her nearly empty beer. “I wish . . .”
“Me too,” Ally said cryptically, before downing the last of her bottle. “I really, really wish.”