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

by Serena Akeroyd

  Sigh.

  It sucked having to be PC after weeks of being so non-PC, but I’d get used to it.

  Joking that I needed a bed and a bath would probably open me up to a damn lawsuit if I skipped a stitch on her palm, so it was better just to politely smile at her and hope she’d shut up.

  She did.

  Thankfully.

  We walked out together, where I wrote her a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds at the nurses’ station, then I let her walk on her merry way while I returned to the cubicle I’d tended her in.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t as busy as it was at High Lidren, and the ER here was practically a ghost town by comparison.

  So when I returned to the cubicle, and found it clean, I sank into the uncomfortable visitor’s chair and closed my eyes for a second.

  I was pooped.

  When I heard the rustle of the curtain open, my eyes popped open though, and I stared at the face of a man I hadn’t seen in too long.

  “José!” I cried, then, when getting up felt like too much of a pain in the butt, I muttered, “Excuse me for not hugging you, but I’m aching like a son of a bitch.”

  His lips twitched, and the handsome jerk pulled off his hat, pressed it to his chest as he came in, and leaned back against the gurney.

  I’d been in the same class as the town’s sheriff, and I fully admitted that if I hadn’t been head over heels for Steel, I’d totally have had moon eyes for José.

  “Joseph now, Stone,” he corrected me. “The white folk don’t like to be reminded that I’m Mexican.”

  His crinkled nose told me what he thought about that, but I just scoffed, “Surprised you give a shit.”

  “I don’t, but unfortunately I need to get re-elected to sit in my office, and I quite like my job.” Then, he patted his hat, and I realized I hadn’t seen the yellow envelope beneath it that he had tucked to his chest. “Even if, some days, it’s not so pleasant.”

  I cocked a brow at him, and asked, “Huh, I should have guessed this wasn’t a social visit. I haven’t seen you in years,” I complained, “and you’re here to talk about the club?”

  His lips twitched. “It’s handy that you’re home,” he replied dryly. “It’s fucking hard getting to talk to Rex, but me popping in here and chatting with you makes shit a lot easier.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just what I always wanted to be—a telegram.”

  His lips twitched again, but his gaze remained somber. “Got some bad shit in here,” he muttered, wiggling the envelope before he passed it over.

  If I was going to be the telegram, then I was going to have a look and see what information I was passing around.

  When I popped the seal, he didn’t chide me, just cocked a brow at me when I studied him, then the envelope.

  As I pulled out some pictures, I didn’t gasp, because after Lancaster, I was pretty sure I was impossible to stun, but seeing Lodestar with her hand around Dog’s neck in a grainy CCTV picture definitely got my heart pounding.

  She’d been the one to kill him?

  I’d never thought Star would give that much of a damn about Dog. I’d figured it was North and that stepmom of his, some kind of weird star-crossed lovers shit they were both pulling since they wanted to get away from her Old Man—there had to be a reason, after all, why they’d taken off together. Dog was definitely vindictive enough to go chasing after her so he could haul her back by her hair. And even though they’d asked Hawk if he knew anything, Steel said Hawk was making a virgin asshole look slack.

  Back in the day, the Old Ladies had surmised that Lizzie Fontaine, Giulia’s mom, had taken her kids somewhere Dog couldn’t officially go—to territory that the Sinners weren’t allowed to enter. Figured that was why she’d stayed gone too, and he hadn’t been able to do shit about it.

  The question on my lips was one I’d never get an answer to—why? Why on earth had Lodestar decided that Dog needed to be put down?

  But before I could even process what I was looking at, José muttered, “Shit’s changing around here, Stone. I never signed up for this.”

  I grunted at that, because it didn’t take a fucking genius to figure out that he hadn’t signed up to be covering up murders for the club.

  I stared him square in the eye, not making him say anything, as I told him, “I’ll talk to Rex. Make sure you get something nice for your assistance.”

  He dipped his chin, and his smile was pleasant—he liked my answer. “That’s great to hear.”

  “I’ll bet.” I peered at the pictures again, but her face was easy to see.

  It stunned me, knowing what she was doing for the club, that she’d let herself be caught on CCTV, but also, Lodestar was difficult to read.

  Who the hell knew why she did what she did?

  I stared at her, then at José, and questioned, “Is she going to be all right?”

  He grunted. “Made sure of it.”

  “Thank you. She’s good people.”

  His head tipped to the side. “Figured you’d be angry. He’s a brother.”

  “She’s involved with the MC,” was all I said, even as I wondered if Steel knew about this. I raised my legs, wincing as I let them rest on the gurney, and he watched me with a curiosity that was impossible to deny.

  “It’s true then?”

  “What?”

  He tapped his ear, telling me he’d spotted the tat. “You’re branded?”

  I grinned at him. “Yeah.”

  “About time. Wondered when he’d get his head out of his ass.”

  I shrugged. “My mother fucked him up.”

  That had him snorting. “Lana Jane would fuck anyone up.”

  “Me included,” I retorted brightly, before I waggled the envelope and continued, “Appreciate you coming to me with this, José. I’m not working tomorrow, but I am in two days’ time. Come and visit me then?”

  “Will do.”

  He nodded at me with a politeness that was weird, considering we’d been in school together, but I watched him go, even as I returned my attention to the pics.

  Pursing my lips, I grabbed my cell, grateful that Steel had replaced it with a burner that Mav had secured, and I took some pics of the grainy images, then sent them to him, Nyx, and Rex in a group text.

  Me: We have a problem.

  Steel: Shit!

  Rex: Where the fuck did you get those from?

  *Nyx added Sin to the conversation*

  Sin: Christ. You couldn’t wake me up with good news?

  Nyx: Where did you get them from?

  Me: Joseph, the sheriff, just walked in.

  Rex: Fuck.

  Nyx: Nah, he went to Stone. It’s all good.

  Me: It is, so long as you make it worth his while. I’m on shift in two days. I told him to come and visit me again.

  Steel: You shouldn’t be involved in this shit.

  Me: He involved me, and hey, if it works out well, then it’s all good. I don’t want Lodestar going down for this.

  Me: Dog was a creep anyway. I figure he did something to deserve it.

  Nyx: You really are one of us, aren’t you? Lol.

  Me: Bloodthirsty? No. Not so much, but as weird as she is, she doesn’t strike me as someone who’d get her hands dirty unless she thought it was necessary.

  Rex: Truer words. Fuck. Thanks, Stone. I’m sorry he involved you, even if it will make it easier to deal with him.

  Me: No problem. GTG.

  The soft tread of someone outside the cubicle had me quickly lowering my legs, and when a nurse popped her head around the curtain, I was sitting there, staring at her curiously as I checked a clipboard I had on my lap, one I’d just grabbed from the side.

  “Everything okay, Marla?”

  She’d been in my class at school too. I’d never liked her. At least she wasn’t looking down on me now, more like she eyed me as if I was some kind of freak…

  It was a testament to how much of a bitch she’d been when I was a kid that I preferred the
‘freak’ treatment than the bully shit.

  “You ready to see another patient, doctor?”

  I smiled at her, inwardly crowing at her calling me by my title. Something I’d insisted on earlier when she kept calling me Stone. “Yes, Marla. I’m ready.”

  I wasn’t.

  But hell, I had just under seventy minutes to kill—unless they killed me first.

  Steel

  When she rolled in nearly two hours later, looking like death warmed over, I hustled her into the shower and watched as, for the first time in a while, she grabbed the waterproof stool and sat on it to clean up.

  I kept an eye on her, even though I knew she hated that, before I left her right at the end to go and make her a hot drink.

  It was eight AM, because she’d worked the night shift since it was quieter and she said that it was best to start then rather than during the day, but she looked exhausted, and I didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit.

  She had circles under her eyes and a stoop to her shoulders. She was drawn and weary—by choice. Christ, sometimes she was too stubborn for anyone’s good.

  Heading out to make her some toast and a cup of the herbal tea I knew she liked, which tasted like piss to me, I waited on the kettle to boil and the bread to toast under the grill. Reaching for my phone, I eyed the few messages I’d received in the short time since she’d returned home, and my brow furrowed at the group text chat the council had going on.

  We’d already been discussing the sheriff and Lodestar, but shit had evidently heated up in my absence.

  Sin: It’s going to be one of those fucking days. Just had a warning from Brennan O’Donnelly.

  Rex: What kind of warning?

  Sin: Brennan didn’t say, only hinted at the fact Benito Fieri might have figured out who went gunning for his sons.

  Me: Shit.

  Sin: Yeah.

  Nyx: He had to figure it out at some point.

  Rex: Preferably never, but I agree. Okay, we need to meet for emergency church.

  Nyx: What we NEED, Rex, is to up our game. It’s time Jaxson and Hawk became brothers.

  Link: Hawk’s hardly prospected.

  Me: He’s good as gold. You know he’s solid.

  Sin: Unlike his brother.

  Me: Figures that North would be more interested in the pussy than the club.

  Nyx: Hawk bounty hunted for a while. That tells you the mindset he has.

  Rex: What about the drive for new Prospects?

  Link: Got four interested.

  Nyx: You know I hate making hangers-on Prospects.

  Rex: We ain’t got a choice right now, Nyx. Even if they’re just glorified watchdogs, I don’t give a fuck.

  Nyx: You say that now.

  Rex: If you’ve got a workable solution, you tell me what the fuck we should do. We can’t use private security, but the council’s Old Ladies have fucking crosshairs on them.

  Me: Not all of them.

  Rex: No. But they’re targets because they belong to the council. We need to make sure they’re protected so you pussy whipped fuckers don’t lose your heads.

  Link: Fuck off. Like you don’t want a brother protecting Rachel.

  Nyx: She’d never let him.

  Rex: This isn’t about me.

  Me: Isn’t it?

  Rex: No! Get your asses to church in the next half hour. We got shit to discuss.

  As I thought about what the repercussions were of Benito Fieri figuring out we were gunning for his family—none of them were great—I fixed Stone’s toast, clutched the dish and the mug, and walked into the bedroom and placed them on the nightstand.

  Heading for the closet, I grabbed her robe, which we had to keep in there because everything got soaked through otherwise when we showered, and wandered back into the bathroom.

  She was staring in the mirror, naked as the day she was born, and though I had no idea what she was looking at, she was fine as fuck, even if she was exhausted.

  “You checking out my ass back there?” she rumbled, catching my eye in the mirror.

  I gave her a sheepish grin for an answer, then held open the robe for her.

  She sighed, twisted around, then dragged her feet over to me. If I’d needed proof that she was exhausted, then I just got it.

  She let me tuck her into the robe, and when she leaned on me, fuck, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to holler with glee or get pissed.

  I’d known it was too fucking soon, but she always had to push it.

  Grumbling under my breath though, because she didn’t need me moaning at her right now, I walked her to the bed and helped her beneath the comforter.

  When she’d settled, I passed her the mug and then, after she’d taken a sip of hot tea, passed her the plate.

  She took a bite of toast just the way she liked it, almost charred, lots of butter, and just a smidgen of jelly on the left corner—yeah, precise, but she could be weirdly precise when she wanted to be. She swallowed her bite, bit her lip, then muttered, “I can’t believe you get my toast right every time.”

  “I’m good with details when it’s for someone I care about.” I eyed the envelope she’d dumped in here before she’d gone for a shower, and asked, “You doing okay?”

  She shrugged. “Not my monkey, not my circus.”

  That had me grimacing. “It kind of is.”

  “Yeah, to a point, but even though you boys let me listen in on club business, it’s not like I have any say in shit. But I think you’re a fucking fool if you don’t encourage Rex to up whatever it is you’re giving Joseph. He didn’t look happy.”

  “Can’t blame him.” I scraped a hand over my jaw. “Paid him to keep his eyes and ears open for us, not to cover up murders.” I grunted. “We’ll make it right.”

  “Did you know Lodestar was the one behind it?”

  He sighed. “Sadly, yeah. She said he was beating on his Old Lady.”

  Her brows lifted. “As much of a feminist as I am, I don’t know if that was a good enough reason for murder.”

  “I think she’s more on edge than we ever realized. Mav is defending her, but she’s volatile.”

  She snorted. “Volatile isn’t the word. You need to watch her.”

  “We are. Well, Mav is. Mostly, we’re making sure that any of the brothers who get a little handsy with their Old Ladies—the ones that Nyx hasn’t already dealt with—get the shit kicked out of them and are encouraged to straighten themselves out.”

  That had her snickering around another piece of toast. “Well, that’s one way to clean up the place.”

  “If that was her intention, then it worked,” I agreed, leaning back against the bed, resting my elbow close to her feet.

  I was dressed for the day and she was ready for sleep, but it was nice just sitting here with her, talking shit over as she settled down.

  I’d hated last night. I knew that made me sound like a pussy, but I was going to heavily suggest to whichever coordinator Rex had bribed to get Stone a place at the hospital that she only work the day shifts. I didn’t give a fuck if it was fair or not.

  After a lifetime’s worth of being in an empty bed, I was pretty fucking used to having Stone beside me, and I didn’t want to get unused to it either.

  When she finished her toast, I grabbed the dish, watched her drink her tea, then asked, “You think you’ll sleep?”

  “I’m exhausted,” she admitted, surprising me.

  Not that she was tired, but that she was actually confessing to it.

  Apparently sensing my shock, she rolled her eyes. “I may have pushed it.”

  “Ya think?”

  She huffed. “I’ll be better in two days.”

  I rested a hand on her foot and inquired, “Are we good?”

  She cut a look to the envelope. “I grew up knowing the shit the MC did. I was well aware you didn’t belong to a My Little Pony Club.” She shrugged. “Would it be easier if you were a doctor too? Maybe, but I wouldn’t get to see you in that sexy cut, plus, you probab
ly wouldn’t have a massive tattoo of my name on your back.” She winked. “Some you win, some you lose.”

  I laughed at that. “Them’s the cards that fall, huh?”

  She grinned. “Exactly.” With a final sip of her tea, she shoved it on the nightstand, and I watched her settle down.

  “Can you close the curtains please?” she requested softly, tilting her head to the side to look at me.

  I nodded, reared up, settled close to her, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Sleep well, baby doll.”

  She hummed. “I will.” When I moved to get off the bed, she grabbed my cut and asked, “Steel?’

  “Yeah?”

  “When I’m not the walking wounded, you will spank me, won’t you?”

  I blinked, taken aback at that, because whatever I’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that. So I grinned at her. “Who said I’ll wait until you’re not the walking wounded?” I teased.

  Her cheeks pinkened. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” My grin morphed into a smirk. “But not today, baby doll.”

  She heaved a sigh. “No. Not today. Maybe tomorrow?” Her eyelashes started to flutter to a close.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I confirmed, even though she didn’t have a cat in hell’s chance of me spanking her when she was so fragile.

  If I could wrap her in a blanket and let her walk around in that, I totally would. Instead, I was left handling an independent woman who I knew I’d push away if I didn’t let her do what she wanted.

  Back when she was fifteen, she’d been pliable. Moldable. I could have probably made her mold to me, bend her to my will, but the truth was, I didn’t want that from her.

  I liked that she had guts. I liked that she had the balls to deal with law enforcement who was talking about murder and bribery all without batting an eyelash.

  I loved that she was strong, that she was a fighter.

  I loved that she was my Stone.

  And because I was turning into a pussy, for real, and not one as hardcore as Mrs. Biggins, who hissed at me from under the bed but otherwise left me alone—I was almost proud of the fact she hadn’t scratched me in over a month—I leaned over before I started out the door, and gave her one more kiss. A tender one. To the forehead. I murmured against her temple, “I love you, baby doll.”