Thank God he’d been the one to say it. Now he couldn’t come back at her later and try to say she hadn’t wanted to be with him. She came around him and pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “Thank you.”

“Hmm,” he said, clearly unhappy that neither his surprise raid nor his booty call had worked out the way he’d expected.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Crystal said, smiling and hooking her arms around his neck. “I’m scheduled to work the late shift tomorrow night, but I have off on Wednesday. Let’s go on a date. Whatever you want to do.”

His expression softened. “Sounds nice, but I can’t. Got a meeting Wednesday night.”

The meeting. Shane.

She hadn’t set out to ask about the meeting, but Bruno’s mention of it immediately resurrected the sound of Shane’s voice in her head. I might’ve gotten my friend back, but he’s still in danger, Crystal. This meeting might be the key to something for him. “That’s okay. We can go out after,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound any different because she could feel the quickened beat of her own pulse everywhere their bodies touched.

He shook his head. “Not sure how long it’ll be.”

“Well, where’s the meeting? I could wait for you at a restaurant nearby. Even if you have to work, you gotta eat.” What was she doing? She never pushed him like this. Why was she fishing for information? And what the hell did she think she was going to do with it if she learned something, anyway?

You know how to reach him . . . to reach Shane . . . The cell phone he’d given her sat hidden inside the air-conditioning vent behind her bedroom dresser. One of several stash spots she had around the apartment for things she wanted to keep secret from Bruno—the phone, a gun, money she’d been putting aside a little at a time for her and Jenna.

She wasn’t flirting with Bruno for Shane, though, was she? She’d only proposed the date to mollify Bruno after the fiasco of tonight. Right? Right.

He wrapped his arms around her lower back and his hands landed on her butt. The little squeeze he gave proved her efforts were working. He was loosening up. “It’s a good idea, but my meeting’s not ’til nine, and there ain’t nothing near the marine terminal, anyway. Besides, I’ll have to handle some shit afterward.”

Holy crap. She’d just learned the time and location of the meeting in one fell swoop. Stop freaking out, Crystal. Nothing’s going on here. You’re just talking. Right.

“Okay. Well, let me know if you want me to make you an early dinner here beforehand. Anything you want. If not, we’ll just do this another time. I miss you,” she said, forcing sincerity into her voice.

Jenna moaned in her sleep, drawing both of their attention.

“That might work. If I don’t see you tomorrow at the club, I’ll call you and let you know.”

“Sure,” she said, meeting his lips when he leaned down to kiss her.

“Well, given this”—he waved in the direction of Jenna’s bed—“I won’t stay here tonight. Let me know if she needs anything.”

She smiled. “I will. Thank you.” And in that moment, he reminded her of why she’d ever thought being with him was a good idea.

“But Crystal”—he grasped her jaw and tilted her face up to his—“if Wayne steps foot in this apartment one more time, he’s going out in a box.”

Annnd way to ruin it. “I understand,” she said. “It was just an emergency. Won’t happen again.”

“Make sure of it.”

With that, he dropped his hand, turned away, and left the apartment.

SHANE SAT AT Marz’s desk, eyes trained on the computer, and listened to the conversation happening in Crystal’s apartment.

And holy shit, Shane didn’t know whether to drive over there, do a jig, or punch a wall. Because this conversation couldn’t have been more revealing on so many levels.

Operationally, Crystal had managed to get the male to reveal the time and location of the Wednesday night meeting. That was huge. Question was, had she done it on purpose? And would she tell him what she’d learned? That would be the true test of whether he’d made any inroads with her trust.

But, personally, what he’d overheard confirmed a lot of his fears and suspicions about Crystal Roberts, or whatever her name really was. She had a boyfriend. A jealous one not above making threats, nor, likely, following through on them. Somehow said boyfriend had known about Shane’s presence at the apartment, so clearly her place had been under surveillance before he’d planted his own bugs there earlier in the night.

Crystal’s voice saying, “You’re hurting me,” still rang in his ears, sending ice down his spine and vengeful heat through his blood—not to mention giving him a lead as to who might’ve hit her.

But despite the stress and fear she must’ve felt, Crystal had handled the whole situation amazingly well. Every bit as good as if he’d been feeding her the words through an earpiece. From the lie about the neighbor with the similar-sounding name to her innocent-sounding questions to the way she’d mollified the guy. Shane was strangely . . . proud of her.

And worried for her.

And intrigued by her in a way he had no business feeling. Not with this shitstorm blowing all around them.

The sound of a slamming door came through the speakers.

“Asshole,” Crystal said in a low voice.

Shane smiled. That’s my girl, he thought. The smile dropped right back off his face. “Get your head out of your ass, McCallan. Not yours now. Not yours ever.”

“Now what am I gonna do?” came through a few moments later, followed by a troubled sigh.

“Call me, Crystal. That’s what you should do.”

But only silence followed her question. His gaze trailed to the digital clock in the corner of the monitor—3:52 a.m.

Shit.

If he didn’t get some sleep, he was going to be wasted tomorrow. And since it seemed all the occupants of Crystal’s apartment had settled in, there wasn’t much benefit to sitting here any longer.

But first, he needed to write down this info so Marz would see it first thing because it hopefully freed them from having to infiltrate Church’s storage facility again. He grabbed a legal pad and pen.

Delivery, 9 p.m. Wednesday, marine terminal

Job done, Shane ghosted through the Rixeys’ apartment so as not to wake Beckett and Easy sleeping on the pullout couch and an air mattress in the living room, and made his way to the guest room he was currently calling home.

He needed a shower, but the bed had apparently developed magnetic powers because his ass was down for the count before he’d really decided to go horizontal.

THE NEXT THING Shane knew, morning had come, streaming soft golden light through the high warehouse window over the bed he could barely enjoy because of the ass-beating he’d taken the previous night. His face, ribs, and back throbbed in time with his pulse, making him suck in a harsh breath through his teeth when he forced himself into a sitting position. Damn, a year as a civilian, and he was getting soft.

Pushing into a standing position, his internal clock told him it was late. Sure enough, the LED on his cell phone showed nearly nine o’clock.

He fumbled through showering and dressing, letting himself linger a while under the stream of soothing hot water, grabbed a bagel off the kitchen counter, and beat feet toward the door to find the team.

“Hey, Shane? You got a minute?”

Becca.

He turned away from the door. “For you, always. What’s up?”

“It’s Charlie.”

Shane could’ve guessed as much from the worry furrowing her brow and filling her blue eyes. “Nick mentioned he went downhill last night. How’s he doing?”

“Well, that’s what I’d like your opinion on. Do you mind?” she asked, her gaze lingering for a quick moment on the scab on his bottom lip. A souvenir from his rounds with Nick the night before.

He gestured for her to lead the way and followed her down the hall to the room where the Rixeys’ sister apparently stayed when she came to visit. He couldn’t imagine what a female version of Nick would be like. The thought almost made him smile.

Until he saw Charlie’s face.

Fever red cheeks blazed over otherwise pale skin. His blond hair lay damp and darkened all along his hairline. Ten feet away and Shane could already tell the guy was in trouble.

“One oh two at last check,” she said softly. “And rising despite another course of IV antibiotics overnight.”

“How bad’s the amputation site?”

“See for yourself,” she said, carefully unwrapping the bandages.

Charlie’s eyelids lifted once, twice, but he couldn’t seem to keep them up no matter how many times he tried. He mumbled words too indistinct to be heard. The more Becca worked on the gauze, the more restless Charlie became.

Becca removed the last of the bandages and stepped aside.

Shane swallowed his oh, shit reaction, not wanting to escalate her already obvious concern. She knew enough to know what he was about to tell her. He leaned in to examine the wound. An angry, swollen redness that almost bordered on purple proclaimed Charlie’s condition loud and clear. “Skin infection. Possible bone infection. Definite bone infection if the rest of this bone isn’t amputated, here,” he said, pointing. “And he needs some reconstructive surgery. A skin graft to close this up maybe. Probably why the infection is progressing despite the antibiotics.”

She blew out a long breath and locked her hands on top of her head. Her position made him notice she was wearing a too-big man’s T-shirt and rolled-up boxers that had to belong to Nick. An unexpected twinge of jealousy had him examining Charlie’s wound again. He’d always loved the look and idea of a woman in his clothes, wearing his shirts to bed, the smell of his skin on hers, but he’d rarely had opportunities to make that little fantasy come true. And this situation wasn’t making the immediate future look too good, either.

“Yeah,” she finally said. A blanket lay balled up on a chair behind her, proof that she’d sat up some part of the night with Charlie.

Damn. Shane hated to have to say this . . . “He needs a hospital, Becca.”

“I know.”

He stared at her a long moment, just observing her mentally work through the problem. And he realized that more than just admiring the way Becca had handled herself these past days, he liked her. And he was glad she and Nick had found one another. “I’m sorry I was an ass toward you,” he said.

She gave a small smile. “I know.”

“What are you thinking?” he said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb Charlie. But now that they were done bothering at his hand, the guy was out cold.

“That he needs a hospital, but he can’t go to one. Any admission automatically creates a paper and computer trail that Derek says is too risky. Not to mention that this injury is suspicious. They’d want to know how the amputation happened, and doctors and nurses are pretty good BS detectors. Plus, my attempted abduction last week means someone at UMC is on the take, and if that’s true, it’s probably not the only hospital in the city that’s compromised.”

“Our team’s too small to transport him farther away,” Shane said. “If some of us went with you to provide protection, it would short-staff the operation here. Especially with this delivery tomorrow night.”

She sat heavily onto the chair next to Charlie. “Nick raised that concern, too. What a mess.”

“Doesn’t leave Charlie with many options, though.” Sure as shit, Shane would’ve been going crazy if it was his brother in this situation. If this got much worse, they were going to have to chance a hospital, risks and operation be damned. Last thing they needed was another person dying on Frank Merritt’s account.

It wasn’t lost on him that for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, he found himself wondering how best to help someone else’s sibling.

If the cosmos was trying to get his attention, it fucking had it already. For fuck’s sake.

“Well, I have a Plan B, but it’s still not a great option, and it requires bringing in someone outside our group. Nick’s not going to love that idea,” she said.

Neither did Shane. But he also knew that sometimes shit rained down so hard and so fast you couldn’t shovel it all on your own. Nick would see that, too. “Who?”

“A longtime friend my gut tells me we can trust.”

“It’s at least worth having the conversation, first with Nick, then maybe with this friend. Any meet with the friend should happen somewhere off-site, though, and only if you take a protection detail.” Because anyone associated with Becca’s hospital was suspect until proven trustworthy as far as Shane was concerned.