Steel: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark and Dirty Sinners’ MC Book 4)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Instead, she had almost died, and all while I was in recovery for a surgery that should never have happened, because if I’d stayed at that diner with my brothers, then I’d never have been fucking shot.

  I gritted my teeth when Nyx came for me, his hand on my good shoulder as he stopped me from striding back and forth.

  “I have a gift for you if you want it.”

  I scowled at him. “How about you make my woman better, Nyx?”

  He scoffed, then muttered, “She’s in the right place, and this will do you some good. You need some fresh air. Worse, you need to make someone pay.”

  I gulped and registered how fucking right he was.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t leave the hospital until I really needed to.”

  “You were about to wear out the lino, Steel. I think you need to get out and get some different stimuli going on. This is like white torture, for fuck’s sake. You’re the one who’s worse off. Let Indy stay, she’ll sit with Stone because she was already falling back to sleep, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t be resting when we got back anyway.

  “It won’t take long. Maybe even an hour. Tops.”

  “It had better not be to take me to a fucking restaurant—”

  “No,” Nyx said with a laugh. “I wasn’t about to bring your skinny ass any food. This is something good.”

  I gritted my teeth, but when I tried to peer into the room where Stone was being tested, a room that Sandra had lowered the blinds on, I bit my tongue, knowing I needed to do something before I lost my mind.

  I turned to him and rumbled, “I need to be back here before she wakes up.”

  Nyx shot Indy a look, who turned to me and reached to pull me into a one-armed hug. She wasn’t tactile by nature, none of their family was, with Quin being the most affectionate of the bunch—of course, that was before he’d been sent down—but still, that she was hugging me so much told me she was scared.

  I didn’t blame her.

  I was scared too.

  The one person who could clarify this fucking situation was in the bed, terrifying the shit out of us. Sandra tried, but she just wasn’t explaining it how we were used to.

  Stone gave us our answers with ‘fuck yous’ and ‘get over yourself’ thrown in.

  I squeezed her back, knowing that we were both going through this, and that, if anything, she was being kind because she let me in with Stone when she had more right to be there than anyone else.

  I was the one who’d abandoned Stone, and Indy was the one who’d picked up the slack.

  I whispered in her ear, “Thank you,” and she squeezed me tighter.

  “She loves you,” she rasped. “Just don’t break her fucking heart again. After all this, I don’t think she’ll make it. And you wouldn’t, because I’d come and make you pay.”

  I wanted to call bullshit on that, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. I knew she was right.

  And the truth was, I had no desire to turn my back on Stone. If anything, I was just terrified that she’d turn her back on me.

  “Don’t be long,” she warned Nyx, who grabbed my arm and tossed something at me. I blinked at the cut, new and squeaky clean, but with my ‘Secretary’ patch on. I hadn’t worn one in the hospital since this entire fuck up had started, and I shrugged into it, feeling like I was settling into my second skin.

  It was stupid, but that saying, ‘clothes maketh man’? It was true.

  This was me.

  My cut made me the man I was, and with it on, I felt stronger. More invincible.

  I wanted the old cut, but that had gone in the trash without my fucking say so. I’d have worn it with the bullet holes, covered in blood, and snipped to shit by the EMTs when they worked on me, because they were my badges of honor.

  This new one would have to do, but even as I was grateful for Nyx’s foresight, I resented the loss of my old one. I should have been buried with it—of course, there was no more time to think about death.

  I had to move on and so did Stone.

  Together.

  I followed Nyx once I felt my temperament right itself, and as we strolled through the hospital, I clicked my neck, working at the crick there. I hadn’t worked out much since the shooting, and I totally needed to get back in the gym, but until the wounds weren’t pulling anymore, I was fucked, and I refused to only do leg days and end up with Schwarzenegger thighs and a stick man’s torso.

  Vanity, thy name is biker.

  The thought made my lips twitch, especially when I thought about Stone’s reaction. She’d probably laugh if I was little and large all in one body, and it would be worth it just to have her smile at me again. Just to see her laughter, to watch it in her eyes as well as the joy unravelling from her.

  Throat thick, again, I grunted under my breath as we headed underground to the parking lot.

  Our bikes were clustered together in a single space. It wasn’t Baby, which had been totalled in the aftermath of my shooting, and I missed the bright orange bitch like a motherfucker, but as Nyx rolled his out, I did the same with mine. Grateful, in a way, that I had a ride at all.

  My brothers rocked for bringing me my wings on the back of a cage.

  Without a word, we set off, and I followed him as he took me out of the hospital parking garage and through the mean streets of New York.

  And fuck, they were mean too.

  Christ, he sure knew how to show a friend a good fucking time.

  Rolling my eyes, I followed him as he eventually led me to a small, beat-up building that looked like, once upon a time, it had served as an office, but was now a shady place where drug deals went down.

  Maybe they fucking did. This neighborhood wasn’t exactly pretty.

  When he pulled up, I parked behind him, and as I climbed off the bike, I grabbed a hold of his shoulder and hissed, “Where the fuck are we?”

  He tapped his nose. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Fucking hate surprises,” I ground out.

  His lips twitched. “You’ll like this one.”

  I scowled at him. “Nyx,” I growled in warning.

  He heaved a sigh. “You’re a fucking killjoy.” He wafted a hand at the building. “You want to know who shot you?”

  My eyes flared wide. “The Famiglia fucker is in there?”

  His wink had my heart roaring. “Sure is.”

  “Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

  Adrenaline high as we stalked down to the office, which was wall-to-wall shitty, dirty windows, we approached a door. When Nyx shoved a gun at me, then another, I stuck one in the back of my jeans and watched as, armed himself, he shot off the lock on the door.

  With the noise of the traffic going on in the distance, and a train that rumbled by at that precise moment—which made me wonder if the fucker had planned this, and if he had, how the hell he’d planned it to a T—I didn’t know if the occupants of the office were aware of what he’d just done.

  When I heard no noise from the inside, I grabbed my other pistol after I twisted the doorknob, opened it up then kept it that way with my boot, and then waited for whatever it was Nyx had planned.

  Before I could go inside, Nyx tugged my arm, stopped me, then shoved a bandana at me.

  I grinned, covered up my face, and then we strolled in, both guns high. He entered first, like he didn’t have a care in the world, which we both knew was bullshit, and as we carried on into the darkened hallway, me wondering what the fuck was going on but knowing to keep my trap shut, we approached another door.

  When someone burst out of the shadows toward us, I didn’t even fucking hesitate.

  Bang.

  My aim was renowned in the club, even if I wasn’t as good of a shot as Maverick, and when the guy who’d come at us fell to the ground as a dead weight, Nyx just chuckled.

  I didn’t blame him for chuckling, because suddenly, I wanted to laugh as well.

  Fuck, this felt good. Putting down Famiglia cunts? Talk about a natural mood booster.


  My heartbeat settled, and I waited for the adrenaline to die off as we carried on walking, me still following Nyx as we headed toward a cluster of shadows.

  Another door was there, but this time, when he shot off the lock and I kicked it open, four guys surged forward.

  Security.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Four shots from Nyx and me, taking each one out a piece, and they only managed to get one off before we had them on their knees. I pistol-whipped one who still went for his gun, even though he was quivering and gasping like a dying fish, and as he sank to the floor, I stepped over him and peered into the doorway.

  What I saw didn’t necessarily surprise me.

  It was early, too early even for an underground casino like this one to be that busy.

  The roulette tables had three or four people around them a piece, the blackjack stands were empty except for the dealer, and where there were a few craps tables, they had barely anyone manning them either.

  No one registered us at first, which clued me into the fact we’d come in the back way, but then someone screamed—I thought it was a blackjack dealer—and Nyx blew a bullet into the ceiling and shouted, “We don’t want your money, we don’t want to hurt you. We want Jacob Russo.”

  My brows rose at that, and when a woman squeaked, “He’s over there,” which granted her a backhander from the guy she’d pointed to, someone who I assumed was her fucking date, I grinned as I strolled forward, knowing Nyx had my back, even as Russo pulled out his weapon.

  Sure, I knew I was getting myself into shit, but for this motherfucker, the fucker who’d shot me, who, according to Lancaster’s intel, was one of the few snipers they had on the payroll—as the others took jobs as payment for favors owed—and who was a lot reckless when it came time to disobey his orders, I was more than ready to put myself in the line of fire.

  As I reached for him, he fingered the trigger, but I was faster. The next second, the gun spun out of his hand, rolling onto the floor, as did a couple of fingers.

  While he howled out his pain, some of his crew decided to play dumb and swarmed toward me, but Nyx had the situation under control.

  They sank to the ground like the sacks of shit they were, and when I strolled over to Russo, who was crying like a baby, I kicked his legs out from under him, watched as he dropped to his knees, then I moved around behind him, bent low, and whispered, “You’re getting a faster death than you deserve.”

  I pressed the muzzle to the soft flesh under his chin and let my bullet loose before he could struggle too much.

  When his brain splattered everywhere, I didn’t even give a fuck, was just glad that it hadn’t splattered me.

  I just rolled out of there, as calm as how we’d come in, and while the women screamed, the dealers were quiet, watchful, evidently used to this level of violence in their establishment.

  With Nyx at my back, the pair of us headed on out, and as we made it outside with no one else surging forward, the security evidently shit at this place if they thought they only needed five men to keep the underground casino safe, I asked, seeking confirmation for something I pretty much knew, “Famiglia owned, right?”

  Nyx grinned. “Yep. The Five Points want their illegal gambling dens. I knew about this one because of Lancaster, and thought I’d make some calls, see if this was one of Russo’s hang outs. Dumb fuck has a lot of markers out on him.”

  “Not anymore.” I smirked at my brother, and just before I gunned my bike, I declared, “You’re right, that was a gift. Thanks, bro. I feel a hell of a lot better.”

  Eighteen

  Steel

  Before

  “Wake up, dumb fuck.”

  Someone shook my shoulder, roughly jerking me to wakefulness.

  “Huh? What’s wrong?”

  Rex’s scowl was suddenly up close and person. “Stone. That’s what’s wrong.”

  Pain flashed inside me. “Huh?”

  “You heard me. She’s not in the bunkhouse.”

  I blinked, totally out of it as I tried to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. But he wouldn’t let me flop back onto the pool table, didn’t let me do shit. He hauled me off and shoved my clothes at me.

  “About fucking time. I wanted to play a game of pool—”

  I growled at Grizzly, uncaring that the fucker was a mean dick, and just dragged on my jeans, even though my head was swimming.

  When I was covered, Rex hauled me across the room, out of the bar, and from the clubhouse onto the drive. When we made it to the end bunkhouse, I staggered inside, then immediately hissed when Mrs. Biggins, the cat I’d bought Stone, attacked me.

  She was little, but her claws were nasty, especially when she managed to pull some kind of judo cat shit and flew at me. The claws scraped up my chest as she slid down me, the little points digging in.

  I hissed, but even though the nasty fucker was hurting me, I grabbed her before she could fall, then tossed her spitting, hissing, snarling self onto the sofa before she could bite me again.

  Talk about a rude fucking awakening.

  Still bleary-eyed, even though I was feeling a bit more awake after being shredded by a kitten, I blurted out, “What are we doing here?”

  “She was supposed to come over for breakfast, and when she didn’t, Mom sent me over to find her. Her shit was unpacked, the bed not slept in.” Rex ground his teeth. “What the fuck did you do now, dipshit?”

  I squinted at him. “Ain’t done fuck. I’ve been away from her this entire time.”

  He shook his head. “There’s no fucking hope for you.” He grabbed my shoulder, twisted me around, and muttered, “You’re not exactly living up to this, are you?”

  I shrugged out of his hold, not wanting to think about the brand I’d had done a few months ago so that it would be ready for my time to claim her.

  My mouth tightened. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “Because she’s your woman. Don’t you give a shit where she is?” he snarled.

  “Of course I fucking do, but she’s probably working. You know what she’s like.”

  Rex hissed at me, much like the fucking cat, and ground out, “How is it you’re turning into a cunt, doing cunt things, when you’re more scared than ever of being like your fucking father?”

  I felt my skin blanch at that, every part of me turning white-hot with rage as I snapped, “Don’t you dare compare me to him—”

  “If you act like a piece of shit, I will. In the blood, isn’t it?” When he hit out at me, I grabbed his fist, then snapped a firm hold on it as I slammed mine into his face.

  Blood spurted, spraying over me, mingling with the fine rivers of blood dripping down my chest, but I ignored it as the two of us got into a brawl that saw us tipping over half the furniture and nearly crashing into the window.

  What stopped us?

  Mrs. Biggins attacked again. Her claws went to my face, scratching me up real good as she bit and hissed, her paws getting tangled up in my already tangled hair.

  When she nearly sliced my eye, I raised my hands to fend her off, and she only stopped when Rex grabbed a hold of her, cuddling her to his chest.

  I hissed at her, wondering what this was all about, then grimaced when I saw how she’d managed to bloody me up.

  “She’s got it in for you, and I can’t fucking blame her,” Rex snapped. “You gonna come with me to find her?”

  Though I knew I should, I just—fuck, I couldn’t.

  I needed to stay strong, to stand firm. She didn’t need me in her life, tainting it. Making everything so much worse for her.

  She needed the chance at a fresh start. The chance for more than this compound had to offer.

  Before he could curse me out for being a coward, his cell buzzed. When he frowned at the screen, I tensed up, and as he answered it, the tension soared in me even more.

  “She’s in the hospital?” he barked. “Nyx, what the fuck?”

  He glowered at me before he spun around and spa
t, “Where did she even get that shit?” He hissed. “Fuck. Just fuck. Dipshit is here, pissed out of his brains as usual. I can get us there in twenty minutes. She’s being treated?” A pause. “Good, yeah. Make sure everything’s copacetic, brother. Jesus, I never thought she was into drugs—”

  “She isn’t,” I rumbled, earning myself a glare.

  “Then what the fuck was she doing overdosing on coke?” he snarled at me, but deep in his eyes, we both knew the answer.

  Somehow, I was to blame for this. And the ‘somehow’ wasn’t all that hard to figure out.

  She’d just lost her mom, and even though she wasn’t much of a mom, there was still grief to be dealing with. And beyond that, she’d lost me. Her closest confidante.

  I’d been AWOL ever since—

  My mouth suddenly tasted like vomit, and I dashed to my feet, faster than I could manage so I almost fell over, before I slammed myself down in front of the porcelain throne and puked my guts out.

  When I was done, I felt like shit, shittier than ever before, and Rex, deciding to hammer the nail in my coffin, rumbled behind me, “You’re coming with me.”

  “No,” I snapped weakly, my head hanging low over the toilet bowl. “I’m not.”

  “She needs you, fuckwit. You can’t just abandon her.”

  “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

  He kicked my ass, pushing me into the toilet, and I let him, relieved only when he stormed out of the bunkhouse, leaving me in my misery.

  I loved her. There was no avoiding that.

  But I loved her enough that I knew ripping off the Band-Aid now would be a thousand times more bearable than it would be in the future.

  Rene, Rex’s mom, would bring her under her wing, and she’d make sure Stone stayed on the straight and narrow, and the truth was, I was anything but straight or narrow.

  I was a path that led to danger. A path that led to misery, and I’d been that even before Lana Jane had told me who I was.

  What I was.

  I sucked in a breath, grimacing at the sour scent of vodka-laced vomit. Reaching over to flush the toilet, I sank back on my heels, then nearly screamed when I felt the ninja cat come at me again.