“They weren’t human beings, Steele. They looked human, but they were the monsters. You destroyed them because they had to be obliterated before they hurt others.”
That made some sense. He shivered over and over, unable to stop. He couldn’t go back and face the others. He couldn’t tell Absinthe what had happened. How Demyan had died. What they’d done to him. He just couldn’t face that. But he had to. He had to go back to the others and tell them. Tell Absinthe that he let his brother out of his sight and they killed him.
He found out that Sorbacov’s deal with Merhi included allowing him to kill one of them. Sorbacov wanted Steele alive because he was a doctor and could get into more places than Demyan. In spite of his wounds, the terrible toll on his body, Czar and Reaper had to hold Steele back from killing Sorbacov. He told Sorbacov what he’d done, how he’d killed Merhi and the others, and how he hadn’t felt a thing when he’d done it.
He told Sorbacov that he’d won, he’d finally created the monster he wanted, and if he killed Absinthe, he would tear him apart, piece by piece. His brothers and sisters, Torpedo Ink, had stood with him, guns on them, ready to die, and they backed him, echoing what he’d told Sorbacov. He gave Absinthe back to them. As always, whomever he’d had was in bad shape, but he was alive.
The others wanted to help him recover. His body was a mess. His mind was worse. He couldn’t escape the image of Demyan suffering, dying right in front of him.
He should have been there with Demyan. They’d always kept eyes on one another. Always. It was Czar’s rule. Their rule. Their code. Their promise to one another. It was how they survived. But he hadn’t. He’d taken his eyes off Demyan and he’d died in the worst possible way.
“No one would blame you.”
“I took my eyes off him. We always have eyes on one another. That’s the code. That’s how we stay safe. Especially when there’s sex involved. We watch one another’s backs. I let him down. I didn’t see what they were doing to him.” He repeated the rules over and over because if he’d just followed them, there would be eighteen branches on their tree, not seventeen.
“Honey, you’re not thinking clearly about this.”
That voice, so like the touch of her fingers. He was with her now, ashamed that he’d told her everything while he was reliving it. He had no idea what he’d said or hadn’t said. He looked at her over his shoulder, drinking her in, seeing the tears running down her face, or maybe they were running down his and he couldn’t see clearly. Maybe it was both.
Breezy was such a compassionate woman, she would never be able to sleep after this. He’d been selfish telling her. He’d been afraid to have her know. Ashamed. He should have known better. She was all about empathy. He hadn’t slept in years—not since he’d lost Demyan. Now she would have trouble as well.
“Babe, you always get me to sleep.”
He’d said that aloud too. He forced himself to press his lips together, to keep from blurting anything else out. He blinked, trying to clear the misty veil between them. To his shock, it lifted, which meant it hadn’t been the fog. She was definitely crying. Breezy. His woman. He’d told her his worst nightmare. The moment his life had changed. The birth of his monster. She was still looking at him as if the sun rose and set with him.
“I’m sorry, Bree.” He looked down at his hands. “You can see I’m always going to be a fucked-up mess. Always. It isn’t going to go away because I talk to someone. And I wouldn’t. There’s no counselor for men like me. There’s no fixing me. You’ll be living with that the rest of your life. Me holding too tight. Eyes on you all the time. Eyes on the kids.”
It was true, and she had to know it. His kind of trauma didn’t just go away. He felt like he’d run a marathon, his body hurting physically. “This thing isn’t going away, baby. Not ever. I wish I could tell you it will.”
Breezy touched her tear-damp face, looked down at her wet fingers and shook her head. “I’m such a crier. You’ll have to get used to that about me. I think, as time goes by, you’ll relax a little bit, Steele.”
She wasn’t a crier. Breezy didn’t cry, and he knew it. Tears had been beaten out of her when she was a child by her father. “Maybe. I hope. In the meantime, I need you to tell me where you’re going when you leave my bed. I swear I’ll try, Bree. I will, but I’ll need you to cooperate when I’m losing it like this.”
She nodded. “Bathroom and Zane. Whatever order, but I’ll let you know if I’m going anywhere else when I get out of bed.”
“You go down to the kitchen.”
“If I can’t sleep. Sometimes I think about taking a three A.M. swim, but I know you won’t like it, so I don’t.”
“Tell me and I’ll go with you.”
“I like you to sleep.”
“Breezy, I’m not sleeping if you’re not in the bed with me. I’d prefer a swim anytime to lying there waiting for you. Anything I do with you is better than doing it alone. If you can get that concept, we’ll be good.”
“I want you to think about at least taking a ride every day. Even for an hour, Steele. Let that be the first step toward letting go a little. Please do that for me.”
The idea of leaving her alone was terrifying, but he had to find a way to ease up. He needed to ride with his brothers. That was part of him, like breathing. He nodded. “I’ll want you with me every other time.” Just having his family separated, one at home and one with him, was already making him hyperventilate. He more than half hoped she would say no. She didn’t like to be away from Zane any more than he did.
“It’s a deal. Every other time. I’ll ask Lana and Alena to look after him. They’re always offering.”
That helped, knowing both of his very lethal sisters would look after his child. He needed physical activity. His body felt as if he’d been beaten with a baseball bat. In any case, the water in the pool was warm, and the outside temperature had dropped.
He glanced at his watch. The app was there, showing him that Zane slept peacefully. Nevertheless, he texted Maestro and Keys to keep an eye on the boy. Zane hadn’t been waking up since he’d been in his own crib, at least not to get up. Sometimes he woke up and played quietly in his crib before going back to sleep. Steele liked to watch him.
“Come swim with me now, Bree. I need to be in the water.” Maybe all along he knew he needed a pool. He liked to be in water. It helped make him feel like there wasn’t so much blood coating his skin, clinging to him in spite of all the scrubbing he did. In spite of his sterile rooms and continual cleaning.
Breezy didn’t hesitate. She left her silken kimono on a lounger, neatly folded. He loved her all the more for that. Very grateful she hadn’t asked him any questions about Demyan or that terrible, life-altering event, he took her hand and walked with her down the steps into the warm water. She’d let him share it his way.
“I didn’t realize you were so cold, baby.” He gathered her close, his arms sliding around her middle, just under her breasts. Her skin was freezing. That made him look around and really notice the weather.
The temperature on the Northern California coast could drop fast, and it had. The wind had picked up and he hadn’t even noticed though he observed everything. That was how far gone he’d been, lost in his past. Breezy had been right there with him, listening to his every word, words he didn’t even remember.
He tightened his hold on her. “I’m so damned lucky to have you, Bree. I know I don’t tell you enough, but I feel it. I’m sorry I hurt you when I sent you away. That should never have happened.” There was no way to explain how he’d felt when he’d learned her age. He didn’t want to think for one moment that he was anything like the men and women who had abused the children at the school where he’d grown up.
“It actually turned out to be a good thing, Steele,” she said, leaning her head back into him. “I learned how to be strong, and I needed to be. I like who I am so much more,
and I know I can be a better parent to Zane.”
He was proud of who she’d become. “You’re a wonderful mother to our son. I hope to be as good a father to him. Just bear with me during these first few months. To know that my son was taken, whether I knew about him or not, has shaken me.”
“I can understand that,” she admitted. “Thank you, Steele. I know it wasn’t easy sharing what you did with me. I needed to know so I could better understand.”
“I’ll keep trying to ease up,” he assured her. He knew he needed to. He wasn’t going to try to take advantage because she knew. He wanted to be better for her. For his son. For any future children they had.
“I’ll race you across the pool.”
“Breezy.” Just her name. That said it all. There was no way she could beat him.
Her soft laughter teased his senses, made his heart just a little lighter. “You could give me a head start. To the halfway marker.”
“That might be cheating just a little too much.” He knew it wasn’t. “I win, I get to fuck you any way I want.”
“I win, I get to do the same.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
She tilted her head back, her arm sliding around his neck. The action lifted her breasts, drawing his immediate attention. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Steele bent his head and took her offering. She tasted like heaven. Paradise. Sin and temptation. He indulged himself, kissing her over and over because he needed to. Then he wanted to and then he just lost himself. The moment he lifted his head, she swam away, kicking strong, heading for the other end of the pool. He obliged her by waiting until she was at the halfway mark before he swam after her.
He won of course, because he wasn’t missing out and he wanted to make slow love to her and make her crazy. He loved taking his time and driving her out of her mind. The little hitches in her breathing as well as her moans and soft cries were so perfect. He could listen to them all night. He kept at it until she gave him that pleading demand, his name so breathy it lit up his world. Only then did he allow her release and go with her, so that it roared through him, taking him like a tsunami might.
She looked back at him, hands and knees on the wide lounger, a smile on her face. “Who won?”
“Both of us,” he conceded and rolled her over, wrapping her in a towel when he felt her shiver. “I’m wide awake.”
“Go for a ride, Steele. Get on your bike and go for a ride. You need it.”
“Only if you come with me.” He rubbed her hip, needing to touch her. Needing that connection when his past was still too close.
“Zane.” One word, but there was a hint of regret. She wanted to go.
“Keys and Maestro can watch Zane,” Steele said. “It was your idea. This can be our first ride together.” He brushed a kiss on top of her head. “I need you with me, baby. Come ride with me.”
She glanced up toward the windows above them and then a smile lit her face. “Give me five minutes. I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll need that same five minutes. I’m not riding naked.” He stood up and pulled her up with him.
“I thought you did everything naked and I’d have something to hang on to.” Her laughter was a little wicked as she ran from him.
Steele followed at a more leisurely pace, once more texting Maestro and Keys. He was lucky to have his brothers helping him watch over his family. He was more than lucky to have a son. There was a part of him that he had to fight off, the one that wanted to panic because he was actually going to leave his son with someone else, but it was an opportunity to be different and he had to take it.
Mostly, he felt he had hit the jackpot with Breezy. His woman. She was so laid-back about everything, not accusing him of being too controlling. Listening and trying to understand. Yeah, he was a lucky man, and he knew it. He silently vowed to double his efforts to make her happy and to see anything and everything that might be upsetting to her. He needed to give her as much as she gave him because he wasn’t fucking up his relationship with her.
TWENTY
“We’ve got a major dilemma we want you to weigh in on, Blythe,” Maestro said, reaching around Breezy to nab a handful of chips. He stuffed several in his mouth.
Ice elbowed him out of the way. Between Ice and Storm, Breezy was nearly smashed into the counter, but Ice gallantly saved her by catching her around the waist and moving her out of the way. “Jackass,” he muttered. “You could have hurt her.”
“Don’t pretend you moved her to save her.” Storm glared at him, managing to scoop more than a handful of chips from the bowl before Blythe snatched it away from them.
“Hey,” Ice protested. “Is that any way to treat a hero? Breezy, tell her how my brother was squishing you into the counter.”
“I’m more interested in the major dilemma Maestro has,” Blythe said. “We’re working here, boys. If you aren’t going to be helpful, go away.”
“The other women should be here soon to help,” Czar assured.
Blythe, Anya and Breezy turned to look at him. Lana and Alena turned more slowly, but they added their silence to the other three women’s.
Czar backed away, holding up his hands in surrender. “I was just saying there will be extra help with the food.”
“Maestro,” Blythe said, still giving her husband a quelling look, “spit it out.”
“We’ve talked this over and we all have a different idea of what should be done to handle a problem that seems to crop up every now and then. If a woman refuses to obey her man when it comes to something really important, like a matter of safety, what should he do?”
Breezy groaned and kicked him in the shins. Her face turned red. “I swear we put that to rest. Why do you insist on bringing it up?”
“It wasn’t handled,” Savage said, startling all of them. “Not that you’re going to get a decent answer from Blythe.”
“What does that mean, Savage?” Blythe challenged.
He shrugged. “You’re going to say to talk to her. To explain to her. All the correct bullshit women say to one another.”
Blythe frowned. “Is that what you really think we do? What we actually do is try to find ways to be of help to you, and when we don’t understand something, yes, we try to talk it out with our partner in order to better understand. If something really matters to Czar, I give in because I trust that he isn’t trying to be a dictator.”
She continued to work, as did Breezy, but Breezy was keeping an eye on the members of Torpedo Ink. They seemed divided by the issue, even with Blythe trying to explain it to them.
She decided to try. “It isn’t always easy to do what is asked of us, especially when our man might be in danger.”
Maestro heaved an exaggerated sigh. “That’s exactly when it’s the most necessary.”
Savage nodded. “It isn’t even that. It’s a matter of trust. Your man tells you something, you just fuckin’ do it.”
“Everyone is different, Savage,” Blythe said. “We all have different personalities. You’re always going to be in charge. Your woman will have to know that and be okay with it. Otherwise it won’t work between you. I have to feel like I’m in a partnership. That’s what I need in order to be happy. On the other hand, I know Czar and what he needs. If he were to say to me, don’t move from this spot because it isn’t safe, I wouldn’t move. For him. Because that’s what he needs.”
“You should do it because he fuckin’ tells you it isn’t safe and you trust him to know what the fuck he’s saying,” Savage said, and reached into the chip bowl.
“My point,” Maestro said. “What does a man do when his woman doesn’t give him what he needs most?”
Breezy felt her color rise, staining her cheeks. Steele moved in close to her, his body shielding hers. “We worked it out,” he said, his voice conveying a warning. She wanted to kiss him.
“That’s a
good thing,” Blythe said, “and that’s what usually happens between a man and a woman. Good communication is the key.”
Anya glanced over her shoulder at Reaper, who was staring out a window, obviously restless being inside. “Honey, I left the groceries on the seat of the truck. Would you get them for me, please?”
Breezy knew immediately Anya had left the groceries on purpose. She wanted Reaper to have an excuse to leave the crowded kitchen, so he could breathe easier. He’d never been a man to stay inside much. She resolved to do similar things for Steele.
“Sure, babe,” Reaper responded, and was out the door.
Anya watched him go with a small smile on her face. Breezy wondered if anyone else knew Anya had done it on purpose. The women maybe. She looked around the room at the men. Savage knew. He looked out the window and then at Anya. He sent her a small nod. Almost imperceptible.
“If communication doesn’t work,” Maestro persisted. “I know Steele worked it out with Breezy, but she’s crazy about him and I guarantee, if he’s in danger, she’s going to forget all about their bullshit talk and jack up again.”
“You want to step outside and have a bullshit talk with me right now?” Steele asked, his voice so low it was dangerous.
Breezy put a hand on his arm because, sadly, Maestro was probably right about her.
“We’re actually trying to figure this out,” Player chimed in.
“That’s what you’re all doing in the kitchen,” Lana guessed. “I wondered. They’re serious about this question, Blythe. So am I. They asked me, and I didn’t know what to say.”
“Talking is worthless,” Savage said. “Teach a fuckin’ hard lesson once and she isn’t likely to forget it.” He turned and stalked out.
There was silence after he left. Blythe looked at her husband. “What does he mean by that? By a ‘hard’ lesson?”
Czar shrugged. “Savage isn’t in a relationship, baby. He doesn’t put himself in places where he’d find a woman to be in one with him.”
Vengeance Road Page 40