Page 8 of Steel

Emmy Lou let me get away with it for a while, until a few weeks before her wedding. She’d showed up at Dirty Wrench while I was working, and from the way her nostrils flared each time she looked in my direction, she was already in a fit. When she dug her finger into my chest, I knew I was in hot fucking water.

“I’m getting married in two weeks, and you will be there, you freaking anal leakage,” she’d screamed at me.

It wasn’t until her voice broke that I realized how bad I’d fucked up, all because the way a woman made me feel had me running fucking scared. So, like the good friend I was, I made sure I was standing there proudly at Em’s wedding. And I spent that night and the rest of the weekend buried between Bailee’s thighs.

That woman . . . she’s addicting. We carried on casually for the next two months. We weren’t exclusive, and since I didn’t want to give her any other impression, I fucked other people. Heather was a regular in my bed when I wasn’t with Bailee because that bitch was easy and I didn’t have to put in any work. Any time I felt like going for more with Bailee, I’d call Heather up and dip between her legs. Shit ended up messy as fuck. In my need to keep Bailee at arm’s length, I ended up doing some damage to her because I didn’t make things clear, and then I got fucking trapped when a goddamn condom broke with Heather.

But my craving for Bailee was too much, and we ended up in a vicious cycle. Heather and I would split—mainly over her drug use and cheating—then I’d go to Bailee. Lyric was three months old the first time it happened. Lee and I got a whole weekend together before Heather called and made threats with Lyric. Each time I left and went back to Heather, there was a piece of Bailee that disappeared, but like the asshole I am, it didn’t stop me.

I needed her too much. Icaredfor her too much.

It wasn’t fair to Bailee, but Lyric had to come first, and that meant working on shit with her mother.

“How close are you? I can’t hold up much longer. I’m tired.”

Her hushed words pull me from the past.

The GPS’s robotic voice lets me know that I need to turn right in two hundred feet, and when I see the abandoned neighborhood, I flip off my lights and creep down the road so my Bronco isn’t as loud as normal. As I move through, I keep an eye out for the men Bailee said were after her, but the place is still.

When the GPS tells me I’ve made it to my destination, I pull into the driveway and shut off the engine.

“Oh, god, please tell me that’s you,” she whispers, a tremble loud in her voice.

“It’s me. Stay where you are. Goin’ to make sure shit is clear out here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m here, Hummingbird. Got you. Hang tight and let me make it safe.”

“Please don’t hang up.”

“Not goin’ to, but I’m goin’ to put you on speaker and stick you in my pocket. Need both hands free. Gotta stay quiet for me, babe. Can you do that?”

I wait until I have her promise before sliding the phone into my pocket and grabbing my gun from the holster under my cut.For a big guy, my booted feet are surprisingly quiet as I walk around the house.

When you’re hunting in the dark, the shadows become your best friend, and they’re my favorite place to be. The fight is even more delicious when your enemies don’t see you coming.

Most of the brothers go balls to the wall when we’re in a fight, which I’ve been known to do on occasion, but I’m more at home in the darkness.

The crickets’ symphony of chirps creates a tune that lets me know there’s no one out here.

At least, not anymore.

Danger will always create a stillness to the world around us, a void of life that’s unmistakable.

I’d still rather be cautious, so instead of running straight to Bailee like that fucking never-ending craving under my skin is urging me to do, I continue searching the perimeter. Lee’s quiet reassurances let me know she’s still on there, keeping me company until I’m positive that whoever was after her is no longer around.

My large feet eat up the distance as I stick to the shadows, clearing each empty house on my way back to her. Once the Bronco is within my eyesight, I pull my phone from my pocket, holding it with my non-dominant hand so my gun can stay free.

“How you doin’, Hummingbird?” Her harsh breathing is the only answer I get. “Talk to me, baby girl,” I order, picking up my pace until I’m running.

Precious fucking minutes are wasted because I forgot to grab the med kit from the passenger floorboard and I have to change my aim from the house to the Bronco.

The door to the house is barely holding together, and it takes little strength to finish it off so I can get inside. Dusty footprints lead me to the stairs, and a few steps up, Bailee’s hunched-over form is in front of me.

I end the call with her, shoving the phone into my jeans, and grab the med kit out from under my arm.

The wood floor is hard under my knees as I drop down to her, but it doesn’t register as the woman in front of me has all my attention.

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