Hard as You Can by Laura Kaye Page A

respect that.”
    “Yeah. I can only imagine how I’d feel if it were Katherine lying in that room right now, having gone through what Charlie did.”
    Nick didn’t mean anything by mentioning his younger sister. Shane knew he didn’t. But it still totally sucker punched him. Because having failed to be there for Molly when it mattered most, he’d never get the chance again.
    “Aw, goddamn, man, I didn’t mean—”
    “Ain’t a thing,” Shane said, shaking his head. “Just know if I can help with Charlie, you can count on me.” Suddenly, Shane realized the gruffness in his words made them sound a bit like an accusation given their recent history.
    Sure enough, Nick’s expression told him he’d heard the same thing. Damn, would they never recover that old, comfortable easiness that once came so naturally? “Thanks. I hope you know the reverse is true, too. Always has been.”
    “I know you have my back.” Which wasn’t exactly the same thing as being able to count on someone, was it? When the shit was flying, sure. Shane had no doubt that Nick Rixey would have his six. But day to day, when the crisis was past, and it was just the regular slog of life, when they no longer had this catastrofuck of a situation to drown out the physical and mental pain this past year had inflicted? Yeah, he wasn’t so sure about that.
    Time would tell, he supposed.
    A weighty pause filled the space between them. Nick crossed his arms and dropped his gaze to the floor. “But . . . ?”
    Shane shook his head. “I don’t need to say it, Nick. You know as well as I do what went down between us.”
    Rixey gave a tight nod. “I do. Question is, you gonna let me build a bridge or not?”
    If only it were that simple. Shane didn’t want to hold this grudge. Feeling hurt and betrayed took energy and headspace he didn’t have to spare. But some emotions couldn’t be willed away. No matter how hard you tried. He had a lifetime of experience to prove it.
    “Come on,” Nick said, walking away.
    “What?”
    “Just come on.”
    Sighing, Shane forced himself to move, no idea what Nick wanted and very little patience left to find out. Halfway across the room, he yawned so big his eyes watered, and his jaw cracked—
    Something knocked him in the gut. “What the hell?” he said, his arms rising up to block the attack and finding . . . a pair of black boxing gloves resting in his grip. He glared at Nick. “Aw, hell no.” He tossed them to the floor, his patience just about worn clean through.
    “Pick them up,” Nick said, tugging on a thick black glove.
    “No.” Shane stepped toward the door.
    Nick moved in front of him, blocking his way. “Pick. Them. Up.”
    “I’m not fighting you.” Shane nailed the slightly taller man with a glare. Throwing fists wasn’t going to fix what was broken between them, and Shane wasn’t a vindictive asshole. At least, not usually.
    Jabbing both gloved hands against Shane’s shoulders, Nick’s light green eyes narrowed. “Put the goddamn gloves on, McCallan.”
    The shove made Shane’s GSW sting like a mofo and tripped a wire in his brain, unleashing all kinds of things he’d been trying to hold tight. Anger. Regret. Hurt. Guilt. He shoved right back. “Screw you, Rix.”
    “That’s the spirit. Now do as you’re told and glove up.” He knocked his gloves together and arched a brow.
    Do as I’m told? “Fuck that noise. We aren’t working for Uncle Sam. And you sure as hell aren’t my superior anymore. What’s your fucking problem, anyway?”
    Pressing his lips together, Nick shook his head. “I’m not the one with the problem.”
    Shane scoffed. “Oh? Is that right? Then why’d you shut me the hell out the past year?”
    “And now we’re getting somewhere.” Nick walked past him, and Shane flinched back, his adrenal gland doing its job and flooding plenty of fight instinct through his body. He was wound as tight as barbed wire. Nick scooped the gloves from the ground,