“Not at all, if you don’t mind giving me yours.”
It was a challenge, and she should have known better. He didn’t have anything to lose. He didn’t keep women in his phone—with the exception of her. He had quite a few Breezy pictures. He’d kept every single one he’d ever taken of her, including ones, if she saw them, she wouldn’t be happy he’d taken, but he spent a lot of time alone with those particular photographs. Without hesitation, he handed her his phone and gave her his code.
She frowned, that adorable little frown he’d fallen for years earlier, but she reciprocated, giving him her code. “It’s Zane’s birthday,” she added. “My boss gifted me with the phone and I’m on her plan, so my name doesn’t show up anywhere.”
He understood why Code had never had her name pop up anywhere. She was smart, and she wasn’t using her own name—something he’d taught her. “Your boss put her name on your apartment?”
“Yes, I was terrified Bridges would find me. He thought I left you, didn’t he?”
“No. I told him straight up I sent your ass away because I was done with you. Told him I wanted you gone, didn’t want to see your face anymore. I made it clear I wanted you banned from every Swords clubhouse. He wasn’t happy, but I was spoiling for a fight and he let it go.”
He saw the relief on her face that he’d protected her enough to tell the truth—he had sent her away. It would have been so easy for him to tell her father she’d run off, and Bridges would have sent an army of Swords after her. As it was, he couldn’t do that; Steele had made certain by saying he didn’t want to see her around.
She indicated her phone and he forced himself to look down. His heart stuttered. The boy looked about two. He had wild tawny hair and, just like Bree’d said, his eyes. He looked beautiful. Perfect. Innocent. Everything a child should be. He looked healthy and happy. She’d done that without him. Breezy had given birth to his son and she’d kept him healthy and happy.
He wanted to hold his son. Get on his bike and go after him right at that moment. Yell at Code to hurry up and find Bridges so he could beat out of the man where his child was. The need was so strong in him that he turned toward the door, dropping his hand on the knob. He stood there, head down, breathing in long, deep, calming breaths.
“You have to be going out of your mind, Bree,” he said.
“I have been, but I tried to stay calm and think it through. Not at first,” she admitted. “At first I did a lot of screaming and crying. When I got that out of my system, I thought things through very carefully. I knew I had to get to you, warn you, provide you with evidence that you had a son and hope you’d go after them if I wasn’t able to get him back.”
He turned back to her, looking down at the screen, picture after picture breaking his heart and yet, at the same time, giving him hope. His son was a miracle. Never, not once, even when he was with Breezy, did he think he could actually have a child.
“Steele.”
Her voice. It was a warning. He tried to keep the grin from his face as he slowly raised his gaze to hers. He let one eyebrow go up. She’d lost this battle and she knew it.
“All of these photographs are of me.”
“You’re my woman.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t keep saying that to me, not when you crawled out from under a pile of naked women, Steele. That ship has sailed.”
“And circled right back.” He indicated his phone. “No one else is there. You can search it all you want. Only you.”
She suddenly went still, and he knew what she’d found. He moved closer. Her lashes fluttered. Lifted. “When did you take these? Who took them? Oh my God, Steele. These are so wrong. In every way. I can’t believe you took these. And kept them.”
He reached out and snagged his phone, sure she would delete the pictures. They’d saved him more than one night. “Needed them. Once I knew I was sending you away, I had to have them. Only thing that ever gets me off.”
“He says, after crawling out from under three women,” she repeated. Breezy snapped her fingers. “Give that back to me.”
“Not happenin’. I know exactly what you’ll do. You’re not deleting my photographs. I’m programming me into your phone and taking some of these pictures of Zane.”
“Steele, those pictures are . . .”
“Beautiful. Fuck, Bree, you’re so beautiful in them I can barely breathe lookin’ at them.”
She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers at him again. “Hand it over or delete them yourself.”
“Babe. These pictures are going up in my den.”
“They are not.”
“Then in our bedroom.”
“Who took them, because it wasn’t you, and I didn’t give my consent. That’s so wrong.”
She had a point, maybe. He needed those pictures, the proof on her face that she was into him. Completely. She was beautiful when he was inside her. Her face, the way she looked at him. But he had taken them without her consent. He didn’t take them because he was into porn, he took them because of her face. Yes, they were having sex, but he needed to see that look. There was no way to describe it, but love for him was there, completely focused, wholly on display.
“I’ll let you know next time.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time, Steele. Get rid of those pictures.”
“It isn’t happening, so drop the subject.” He needed to make that very clear. He didn’t want her to ever sneak his phone and get rid of the ones he needed so desperately.
“You are the most exasperating man, and we’re not done talking about this.”
“I’m done talking about it. We need to talk about things that matter to you. To us. We have to fix us before we get our son back.”
“There isn’t any fixing us.”
There was that resolve in her voice he liked to hear, just not on this particular subject. He studied her face. How had he not seen how young she was? He’d always thought she looked like an innocent angel, and she still did. So many of the patch chasers had looked hard and used up. It had been her eyes. He’d stared into them enough to know she was old inside. He found himself swearing again in his own language.
“We’ll get him back,” she assured softly, just as he’d assured her. “I know them so well, Steele, they can’t hide from me forever.”
He should have let it go, but her voice was magic to him. His woman. So beautiful and so damned young. “Why the hell did you have to be a child? Do you have any idea how I felt when I found out? The bottom dropped out of my world.”
She nodded. “Actually, your reaction when I told you my age is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. You weren’t very nice. In fact, you were a complete bastard. I realized, when you shoved the money into my hands and told me it should cover the year, that you weren’t at all the man I thought you were.”
“I never once called you a whore, Bree,” he said. “I never thought it and I never called you that. I was shocked and angry and a part of me wondered if Bridges deliberately put you up to it in order to blackmail me.”
“I doubt if Bridges remembers how old I am. It wasn’t like he wanted a child around, Steele. In any case, you know, you’re kicking yourself for something that isn’t even real.” She watched as he put his number into her phone. “In Louisiana, I was of legal age when I was with you. My father gave me to you. That was his consent. I was above the legal age.”
“You were underage.” He knew he sounded terse about it, but he couldn’t go there. Not again. Not in his mind.
“Not in Louisiana. In any case, I was far older. You know the difference. The things I had to do made me older than my birth age, as I imagine happened with all of you. I suppose it would be much like a soldier who goes off, fights for his country and then comes home and can’t walk into a bar. I didn’t think about my age because in my life, age didn’t
matter. I could be of use to Bridges by him giving me away. You saved me from all of that. You treated me with respect. For the first time in my life, I knew there was something called happiness. I may not have had it long, but I know I want to find that again, and I’m not about to settle for less.”
“Breezy—”
She cut him off. “Just listen for a minute, Steele. At first, I was so scared and hurt that I couldn’t think about anything but how much it hurt and how scared I was. But I was lucky, and I met a woman, Delia, and she took me under her wing. She owned a diner and gave me a job. She helped me get a place to live and my GED. Once I could breathe, I had a lot of time to think, especially at night because I had never been alone before. I realized that year with you was a gift to me. A revelation. Whether or not it was to you didn’t matter, because it was to me. I was nothing like my father or brother. I could love someone wholly. Give myself to that relationship. You gave me Zane and he became my world. I’m good with that. I really am.”
She could break him so easily. Hell, how did one reply to that? He was as broken, as damaged as they came. He didn’t look it on the outside. He had brothers who appeared far more screwed up than he did, but he was so far gone he had no business even considering a relationship. What the hell did he know about one? He’d gotten along with Breezy because she’d given him every little thing he’d wanted. The sex had been off the charts.
He should know, he’d been trained practically from the time he could remember, and the training had been brutal, but there wasn’t much he didn’t know how to control during sex with the exception of a natural erection. Those had been stamped out of him until Breezy. The sex hadn’t been about luring a victim and controlling them. With her, sex had been all about pleasure, something he hadn’t been able to achieve again without her. Not at all. No matter what he tried. He never felt like he was swept away, consumed by another realm. That was all Breezy. That belonged to her.
“I’m glad you’re so good with that one year we had, Bree, because we’re going to have many more together. The three of us: you, Zane and me.”
She was already shaking her head and he ignored her protest. “We have a chance to make this right.”
“Steele, I’ve done a lot of reading, mostly because I know my childhood was shit. I wanted to make certain I was in a good place to raise Zane, so I read everything I could about traumatic childhoods and bad relationships. Not,” she added hastily when he glared at her, “that I think ours was bad. I told you, I was happy. But I wasn’t your partner. I was happy, but it wasn’t a healthy relationship. You have to admit that. You gave me the slightest wish and I knocked myself out fulfilling it.”
It was the truth. He couldn’t deny it. His breath caught in his lungs. No matter which way he came at her, there was always a refute. He forced himself to give her the respect he gave to his brothers. He listened, hearing her out when he wanted to form his protests. He knew she made sense. Breezy always made sense. When it came to the two of them, he didn’t. He didn’t care whether or not they made sense together. He needed her to survive. It was that simple, but he would listen.
“We set those patterns and they’re there whether we like it or not. I’m not that same person, Steele. I wouldn’t be happy with you dictating to me and you would never be happy with the new me. You need a ‘yes’ woman, one who would be happy living with you, doing whatever you asked. I don’t want to raise my son in the club life. I don’t want to be second to the club. I know what that’s like and I’m not going back there again. Those parties with all the drug deals and men doing whatever they wanted to the women. I can’t go there again. Never again. I’m different. I like who I am now.”
“We don’t do drug deals and we don’t hurt women. New patterns can be established, Bree,” he said. “We’ve been apart going on three years. That’s time enough to break those patterns. We’ll take time and get to know each other. You’re a pleaser, baby, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not. I’ll be more careful of making certain I’m not too demanding and that I see to the things you want and need to make you happy. I was without you those three years and believe me, I know what I lost.”
She sighed. “You know you’re going to stay with your club. That’s a deal breaker.”
“It doesn’t have to be. You have to stick around anyway for protection. You can get to know the others and maybe you won’t feel the same.”
He could see on her face that she was very closed off to that possibility, and his heart sank.
“Steele, honey, I don’t need saving. I’m fine now. Really. You can get on your Harley and ride off to save another damsel in distress, because I’m good.”
He found himself staring at her for a long time. Shocked that she didn’t know. That she couldn’t see. Then he was laughing. He didn’t know if he was slightly hysterical, but his laughter wasn’t humorous in the least.
“Baby, you’re reading the situation completely wrong. I know you don’t need saving. I do. I need you to save me.”
FIVE
“Welcome home, Breezy,” Maestro said as she emerged from the bathroom. Fortunately, she had dressed in the surprisingly nice room.
“Hey, Maestro,” she replied. The hall was empty. It was at least ten o’clock. She’d slept in. The others should have been lounging around—at least the Swords always had. Ten was early for them to move. She’d been so lucky that Steele hadn’t tried to sleep in the same bed with her. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d thought of sex. Her body was so wound up she hurt. That was what Steele did to her, even in the worst of circumstances.
“Where’s Steele?” She wanted to get started on finding Zane.
“Waiting outside for you. He showed me a picture of the boy. He’s beautiful. Can’t wait to meet him.”
Breezy couldn’t help the smile because any mention of Zane made her smile, but the anxiety for his safety was nearly overwhelming, to the point that she just wanted to run out, jump in her truck and tear down the road, as if she could find him that way—with action.
“You’ll love him, Maestro. He’s so into music. When he cried, if I turned the radio on, it would soothe him to sleep. That and me rocking him.”
“I can teach the little guy to play the guitar. Or the piano. Have one in my brand-new house. First thing I put in there. They delivered it the other day. We get our boy back, I’ll take you there and play for you.”
That stopped her in her tracks. It didn’t make sense. These men didn’t own property. They were in the wind the moment the whim took hold. “You have a house? Like an actual home?”
“Sure, we do. All of us. Czar wants the roots down deep. Seemed kind of dumb until Reaper got with Anya. Then it made sense.”
“Reaper has a woman?”
“Old lady, and he’s damn serious about her. Czar has Blythe, and now Steele’s got you back . . .”
“I’m not back. I’m just . . . here.” It had bothered her for the rest of the night, the last thing Steele had said to her. The voice he’d said it in. He was the one who needed saving. She’d always thought of him as invincible, but his tone resonated with honesty. He’d believed what he was telling her. “Wait. Blythe? I thought Alena was Czar’s old lady.” She was more confused than ever.
Maestro shook his head as they entered the large common room on their way outside. “No. Alena provided cover, so it didn’t seem strange that he didn’t sleep with any of the club girls. Blythe is his wife.”
Breezy frowned. “Czar rode with the Swords for five years. Do you want me to believe he didn’t sleep with anyone else in all that time?”
“Why do women think they’re the only ones who can be faithful?”
She saw Steele sitting on his big Harley, surrounded by several of the Torpedo Ink members, all ready to ride. Her heart pounded instantly, and she stopped walking so abruptly Maestro nearly plowed into her. His hands caught
her shoulders as he came to a halt behind her.
“Because most men are like him.” She indicated Steele with her chin. “You know, that man who needs three women all over him to satisfy him.” She murmured her reply, her gaze fixed on the man she’d fallen so hard for she hadn’t been able to get through a single day without thinking of him. Or dreaming about him. Nothing had changed after seeing him. Maybe that longing had gotten even stronger.
He was beautiful sitting there on his bike. He belonged, his rugged good looks and his colors worn so easily, as if they were part of his skin. She knew they were. She’d seen the tattoo of the tree on his back often enough. Before, it had only been a cool tatt, and his body was covered in them. Now she knew it was his life. The club would always be his life. His first loyalty was there. The lifestyle of parties, women, alcohol.
“Men can be faithful, Breezy,” Maestro said softly. “Steele—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted softly. “There’s no need to explain. He’s free to do whatever he wants to do. I’m not in his life anymore. Whatever he says now, knowing he has a son, he told me in no uncertain terms what I was to him for that year. It wasn’t his old lady. He’s free. I’m free. We just need to focus on getting Zane back.”
She would decide what to do after her boy was back in her arms. In the meantime, she knew how to act in a club. She knew she didn’t have a say. She just had to keep the conversation away from controversial subjects, and she had to guard her heart at all times.
She hadn’t been on the back of a motorcycle in three years. Not since Steele had sent her away. He’d long since destroyed her vest, the one she’d worn so proudly declaring she was his old lady—she’d watched him do it. It had been her protection, but more, she’d been honored to wear it. She’d felt as if, for the first time in her life, someone really cared about her and she was safe. She belonged. She was Steele’s. Now she was just Breezy, Zane’s mother, standing on her own two feet. No one was taking that away from her—not even the man she loved.
Vengeance Road Page 9