Page 13 of Steel

As I wait for him to come back, my mind drifts to earlier and the murder I was unfortunate enough to witness. If it wasn’t for me stumbling upon them, that poor man, Swirly, would be buried out in those woods alone for the rest of eternity, or until his flesh and bones end up as scavenger food. I’m thankful I was able to get everything captured on film because that means Swirly will be able to get justice and his murderer will be behind bars.

Killer.

It’s not hard to figure out how he got his road name.

Hopefully, by the time I’m able to go back there and get the roll of film, the pictures will be salvageable. Then I’ll have to find somewhere I can set up a dark room so I can develop them. I hid the film somewhere only I know about until it could be safely recovered. It’s not that I don’t trust Steel, but those pictures are the only bargaining chip I have to keep me alive if Killer and his buddies catch me.

Steel locks the door, flips the deadbolt, hooks the chain, and then puts a chair under the door handle. When I lift a brow, he shrugs. “The more we have keepin’ someone out, the longer we can protect ourselves.”

He walks around and shuts off all the lights except the one on the small dresser. Its dim bulb casts a soft glow through the room, giving it a more intimate feel than I’m sure Steel wants.

Steel stops beside the bed and squats down, running a finger across my cheek. “Want to try to get cleaned up before you go to sleep?”

I blow out a breath, already imagining how it’ll feel to not have dirt, blood, and whatever else I managed to catch out in the woods, all over my skin. “I don’t think I can make it in there, and I’m not supposed to get these wet.”

“Heard the doc, babe. Sponge bath only. Didn’t answer my question.”

I raise a brow and smirk. “Are you gonna wash me down, bossman?”

“Can you handle that?”

Oh, dear lord. That grit in his voice is fucking sinful. I love hearing it, especially when he’s talking filthy to me.

“Oh, I can handle you, bossman,” I flirt back, tossing him a wink.

He mutters something under his breath as he climbs to his feet, but he doesn’t hide the way he has to rearrange his dick inside his pants. I can’t imagine it’s the most comfortable when it swells within the tight confines of his jeans.

After banging around in the cabinets and not coming up with anything that can be used as a basin, he improvises by taking the small trash can and sticking a new trash bag in it before filling it up with water. The only washcloth we have is the standard one you’d find at any motel. It’s scratchy as hell, but it’ll get the job done. Normally, when I stay in places like this during my travels to shoot locations, I make sure to bring my own things. Considering I didn’t expect my outing today to end with me running from someone intent on killing me and getting patched up from gunshots in a run-down motel, I didn’t exactly pack necessities.

Steel grabs one of the chairs sitting at the scuffed-up table by the door and carries it to the bathroom. Then he’s back at my side, and before I have time to process what’s happening, he’s sliding his arms underneath me. His touch is surprisingly gentle for the rough man he is.

He’s careful not to jar my leg too much as he carries me to the bathroom. Sitting in the middle of the tub is the chair he grabbed. He’s stuck a towel underneath the legs so it doesn’t slide around while I’m in the tub, and the makeshift basin he created is sitting beside it.

Steel places me on the chair carefully. “Good with being naked so I can make sure you’re as clean as we can get you?”

Getting naked for this man for something other than fun times? That’s going to be interesting.

I shake my head and then help him pull his t-shirt off me.

What I thought was a gunshot wound to my shoulder was only a graze. The doctor made sure to remove the pieces of my shirt that were embedded in it, then he sterilized it with alcohol and antibiotic cream and put a sterile bandage over it. He told me I was lucky enough that it didn’t need stitches.

He removes my sports bra with clinical detachment, setting it on the back of the toilet with the shirt. No matter how much he tries to hide it, or how hard he tries to act unaffected, he’s unable to hide the heat that flares in his eyes or the bulge in his jeans.

Something happens when his eyes fall to my breasts. His body becomes rigid and his facial expression sharper, and the heat that was in the depths seconds ago is now extinguished.

I don’t understand the sudden change until his finger reaches out to trace the words that are inked just under the edge of my left breast. It is a quote from r.h. Sin that I found not long after things between us were finished for good—All she wanted was the effort she gave.

Since I didn’t have it when we were whatever we were, he knows he’s likely the reason I got it. It’s why his demeanor changed as soon as he was able to read the words.

It’ll really hit home when he catches the other quote under my other breast—She chose herself because you refused to.

I didn’t have them done with malicious intent. They’re reminders to never settle for anything less than what I’m worth. Ideservesomeone who will match my effort, and Ideserveto have someone choose me. Sure, Steel is the one who taught me the lesson, but I’m the one who needed the reminder.

Steel keeps his eyes averted after that, and I’m fine with it. It was easy for us to fall back into the routine of flirtatious banter, heated looks, and dreams that will never come to fruition.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on. Start from the beginning,” Steel orders as he carefully maneuvers my panties off me.

It’s probably a good idea that he’s trying to distract us, because right now, the only thing on my mind is the fact that I’m sitting here completely naked in front of him for the first time in so long.

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