Heart of Steel

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Heart of Steel Page 1

by Cathleen Cole




  Heart Of Steel

  Cathleen Cole

  Frank Jensen

  This book is dedicated to the most perfect partner in crime — my husband. Thank you for pushing me to be my best, for supporting me through everything, and for always having my six no matter what. I’m grateful to you for helping me write this book and checking another item off our bucket list. Thank you most of all for your love.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Remi

  “Jesus Remi!” Bridget gasped as I peeled into the university parking lot. I whipped my car into an empty space, about two feet in front of the car that was waiting to pull in. A long blast of the other vehicle’s horn told me exactly what the driver thought of my stunt. I couldn’t be late for my first class of the morning.

  “Sorry Bridge, but we’re going to be late.” I stepped out and gave the other student a semi-apologetic smile and a shrug. Opening my back door, I grabbed my backpack and slung it across my shoulder.

  “So what?” Bridget said with a careless shrug as she slammed the door after grabbing her own bag.

  I eyed her stylish clothes and high heels. Bridget was majoring in fashion. Her dad was the former mayor of Austin, so she’d gotten used to dressing a certain way. As a kid, it was expected that she always looked well put together. That had carried on into college. There were times I wished I had the desire to dress like her. Once I’d become the owner of my late father’s company, Mackenzie’s Trucking, I’d let her talk me into a shopping trip. Now I owned more business clothes than I could ever wear but I still mostly wore jean shorts, tank tops, and sneakers.

  “Your professors may not mind you walking in late. But this is the class where the professor locks the door right at eight a.m.” This hadn’t been the first time I’d been late and therefore been locked out of class. I needed to pass this class so that I could start its consecutive course next semester. I was desperately trying to finish my degree a year early.

  If Uncle Caleb had to spend another year running dad’s business, I’d likely lose the only family I had left. Or the only family I chose to recognize. Sorority girls had been passing out Mother’s Day flyers for the last few weeks and it had been making me think a lot about the mother who’d abandoned me hours after giving birth to me. She tried coming back every year, usually around my birthday, but I refused to see her.

  It had to have hurt dad to have her come around, but he never complained. He never spoke badly about her, just encouraged me to let go of the past. He never tried to force me to see her, but he’d said it would be healthier for me to forgive her, for myself, if not for her.

  Normally I found it easy to ignore thoughts of Rhonda but with the bubbly college girls popping up around every corner and reminding us to ‘take care of the special ladies in our lives’, it was getting harder to do. I shook the old memories out of my head as we moved across the parking lot.

  I watched in amusement as people started calling out greetings to Bridget. She was, by far, the biggest social butterfly in my group of friends. She had always drawn people in, and the rest of us were happy to let her have the limelight. Not that I had trouble making friends, I just didn’t seek it out like a moth to a flame the way Bridget did.

  “Oh, they hate it when I’m late. I’m just better at getting myself out of trouble than you are.” Bridget stuck her tongue out at me, and I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t lying, Bridget could charm the pants off damn near anyone.

  I didn’t bother to respond to her but increased my speed across the parking lot. Bridget huffed a little as she had to double-time it to keep up with my long legs. At five-four she was having a hard time keeping up with my five-eleven frame.

  Bridget darted in front of me to cut between two cars. We were finally reaching the end of the lot where the road met up with the buildings. She would have to head past the building directly in front of us to go to her class, but luckily mine was here. I had to give it to her. It impressed me that she could run in those heels.

  I glanced at the thick leather watch on my left wrist and groaned. Ten minutes. I had ten minutes to get into my class. “Fuck!” I bellowed in surprise when I slammed straight into Bridget’s body. She had stopped suddenly when I wasn’t looking.

  She let out a squeak as she stumbled forward. I yelped, more in surprise than pain, when she smacked the back of her hand into my stomach. “Quit walking so fast and you wouldn’t be in danger of mowing me down.”

  “Don’t stop so suddenly when we’re rushing to get places.” I glowered at her when she just smiled at me and dug in her purse for some gum. I was boxed in on three sides by her and the cars. I could go around but it would be faster to just wait her out. This was going to be a shitty day, and it was only eight a.m.

  Finally, Bridget started moving again but stopped a few steps later. I groaned, and she shot me a dirty look. She jerked her head in the direction of the road. “Who brought the delicious man candy?”

  I stepped forward and followed her gaze. Sitting at the curb were six huge men on motorcycles. They were wearing jeans, white or black t-shirts, and leather vests. Bridget was practically drooling now. The last two had females sitting behind them on the bikes. In Bridget’s world that meant the first four were hers for the taking.

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? I don’t want to be locked out of the classroom. Let’s go!” I trotted across the road and felt a stab of relief when I heard the click of her heels behind me. The dean was rushing out the side door of the building adjacent to the one my classroom was in as we crossed the road. He paused when he saw me and glanced at his watch. Looking back up at me, he frowned and held up his watch. Most students would never meet the dean. I, however, was one of the unlucky ones that he knew personally.

  Rolling my eyes, I slowed and nodded my head. Mr. Richards was a dick. He really didn’t like me, and he took every opportunity to point out when I was doing something wrong. Normally, I would try to stay off the radar of any of the faculty, but right before my dad died there’d been an… incident. I’d ended up punching a girl in the cafeteria. She’d had it coming, and I had a hard time controlling my temper in the best of times.


  That hadn’t been the best of times, so when she’d bumped into me on purpose, causing me to spill my lunch down the front of me, I’d kind of snapped. Rachel had gone to the same high school as me. She’d been the typical cheerleader bully. On top of the fact that she enjoyed picking on kids, Rachel had been in love with my boyfriend Scott. We had just broken up, and she had thought that it was the perfect opportunity to make me look like an idiot in front of him without incurring his wrath since I had embarrassed him by dumping him.

  College hadn’t humbled her at all, and it certainly hadn’t made her smarter. I’d broken up with him. If she’d wanted him, I wasn’t standing in her way. I’d like to think giving her a black eye had knocked her down a peg, but now most of the faculty of the University of Texas in Austin, knew exactly who I was and that I didn’t care for. The idea that they all knew who I was and thought I was a troublemaker made me cringe.

  “Ms. Jordan!” Richards yelled across the courtyard, and I realized I had lost Bridget somewhere along the way. I turned and groaned. At the motorcycles. I had lost her at the motorcycles.

  Well, rather at the bikers, I thought wryly. Bridget was standing there, twirling her pale blonde hair around her finger and batting her lashes at a guy on one of the bikes. She completely ignored the dean yelling at her across the walkway. Bridget was a bit of a princess around here. Everyone knew her and clamored to be her friend. She sucked people in like a black hole.

  The biker leaned his motorcycle to the side and swung a leg off of it. His gait was smooth, like stalking prey, as he moved toward her.

  The guy has to be six-three. What is it about bikers? They are always huge. They usually have huge personalities to match, I thought sourly. Not that I knew any bikers, but they had a reputation. The guy dwarfed Bridget as he stood in front of her and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She giggled, I gagged. Not that the guy wasn’t gorgeous.

  He was, I thought as my eyes roved over him in appreciation. The guy was ripped. It was her overly high pitched, sugar-sweet giggle that had me rolling my eyes.

  They look like Barbie and Ken. Well, if Ken is a tough-looking biker with a bunch of tattoos. He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The smile he gave Bridget could probably knock the panties off a girl at ten paces.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as they stood there flirting, completely ignoring Mr. Richards and everyone around them. They should look ridiculous, Bridget in her short skirt, flowy long-sleeved top, and stupidly expensive high heels, and this guy in dirty jeans, boots, and a leather vest. But strangely, it worked. I tilted my head and studied them like they were a lab experiment until a movement drew my gaze.

  Glancing over, I noticed Richards’s face turning an alarming shade of red as he stormed toward them. I trotted back and grabbed Bridget by the wrist. She glanced at me over her shoulder, but the massive biker glared at me. His eyebrows were slashed downward over those incredible blue eyes as he glowered at me. I tugged Bridget backward, making her stumble a bit. “Sorry, we have to go.”

  He moved forward, crowding into my space, and wrapped his huge hand around Bridget’s opposite arm. “I don’t think you do.” He said the statement calmly, but dread curled in my stomach at his tone. I looked down at my hand on Bridget’s wrist. This probably looked like a rottweiler and a chihuahua playing tug o’ war with a bone. I was not going to win that battle. I glanced over at Bridget quickly and her eyes were wide, as she stared at him.

  Bridge laughed nervously at the guy’s intensity. “We actually do have to go so…”

  He looks like he is going to throw her over his shoulder and stalk off to his cave.

  “Gunnar!” Both Bridget and I jumped as a voice bellowed from the vicinity of the motorcycles.

  Behind Gunnar was an equally big man, still sitting on his bike. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, legs stretched out. At first glance, you’d think he was relaxed and waiting to get on the road. Those intense, pale gray eyes said that you would be wrong in that assumption. He was coiled, like a snake ready to strike.

  That stare was piercing and made me more than a little nervous, especially when it landed on me. My heart started pounding in my chest as I felt his gaze move over me. He was tan and had black, short hair, trimmed close to his head, and a beard that was trimmed equally close to his face. He was ruggedly handsome, but the grim line of his mouth made him seem dangerous.

  Who am I kidding?

  It didn’t take the slash of his mouth to tell me that. Danger oozed off him. I swept my eyes down his body. His biceps were as thick as my thighs and he had a sleeve of tattoos that came from beneath his shirtsleeve on his left arm and went down over the back of his hand. He even had tattoos on the fingers of his left hand.

  My eyes kept following the line of his body downward, where his waist tapered down to his hips and flared out again at his muscular thighs. My gaze was drawn back up and I stared at his throat where a fully colored tattooed skull stared back at me. I swallowed nervously and met his eyes. He was watching me, unblinking.

  Okay, that’s not creepy at all. It was his penetrating stare that made me uncomfortable more than anything. Otherwise, he was gorgeous, and his tattoos were beautiful. They were bright and vibrant against his tanned skin.

  Since gray eyes had stepped in, Gunnar released his hold on Bridget. “I’ll text you later, baby girl.” I could only describe the look he gave Bridget as a smolder.

  We turned and ran toward the building. I let her go through the door first, then glanced back and watched the dean talk to the bikers. His hands were waving around. Gunnar stepped menacingly toward him and the breath caught in my throat. He said something that had Mr. Richards backing up quickly.

  Finally, Richards hurried back toward the building he’d come out of, shooting wary glances over his shoulder the whole way. A tingle zipped down my spine and my gaze flashed back to gray eyes. He was still staring at me and an unwelcomed zip of excitement shot through my body. I twisted my lips and frowned at him, then bolted through the door.

  Chapter 2

  Steel

  We pulled up in front of the campus and I cut the engine on my bike. Leaning back on the seat, I stretched my right leg out. We had a job later this afternoon to handle for the club’s president, Cade, but Drew and Trip had to drop their old ladies off at the school. Both women were attending the University of Texas, trying to finish up their degrees and helping the club out by doing a little dealing on the side.

  This was amongst the many things that set Cade aside from the old prez. Cade could think ahead. Dealing was just a way to get some easy cash today. Degrees in finance and economics were ways to get cash tomorrow. Anytime one of the women of our brothers showed interest in obtaining a college degree the club helped them out as much as we could. It gave us a good return on our investment and helped their family out as well.

  Movement caught my eye and my hand immediately went to the small of my back. I palmed the butt of my gun. Two females rushed past, and I slowly relaxed. I smirked when the blonde glanced over, then slowed down when she caught sight of Gunnar, my main enforcer. It didn’t surprise me when she glanced at her friend’s retreating back, then changed direction and strolled over. Gunnar had that effect on women.

  While she started flirting with my best friend, I watched the second girl, who was still booking it toward the main building. A small man, with a comb-over, approached her and shook a watch at her. The girl stopped to acknowledge him. She was tall, at least five-eleven, maybe more. Her long dark brown hair was piled on top of her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed and thrown it up to get it out of her way. I couldn’t see her face from here, and I’d only caught a glimpse of it when she ran past. I’d seen enough to want her to turn around.

  She did exactly that, searching for her missing friend. Her brows lowered and a look of aggravation passed over her pretty features. Her full lips thinned; whiskey-colored eyes narrowed. I raked my gaze down her body. She was stack
ed. She wasn’t petite, like her friend. A full pair of tits held my attention for a minute. Then my eyes continued their path downward. She had an athletic build, I could see the muscles in her arms and legs, thanks to the jean shorts and tank top she was wearing. I wasn’t sure why I found that sexy as fuck, but it worked on her.

  My eyes raised back up to her face as she trotted forward to grab her friend. Gunnar was glaring at her, not wanting her to drag his newest flavor of the week off.

  “Sorry, we have to go.” Her voice was lower-pitched and sexier than I thought it would be. I shifted slightly as my dick hardened. I wanted to hear that voice moaning my name. Gunnar closed the gap between them and grabbed his girl’s arm, tugging her back toward him. Both girls’ eyes widened, and the brunette’s mouth dropped open. I imagined my tongue tracing the shape of those lips. Gunnar said something to them in a low voice that I didn’t catch. Worry passed over both of their faces. I sighed; we didn’t have time for this.

  “Gunnar!” I bellowed. It was more of an order than anything else.

  Both women jumped at the sound. The brunette’s eyes shot to mine. I watched her quietly as Gunnar muttered something to the blonde. I locked eyes with her until she averted her gaze. I took the opportunity to appreciate her body again, slower this time, as I waited for Gunnar to tear himself away from his girl.

 

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