Page 144 of Steel

Jordan slides the boot on, being careful not to jar my beaten body. Once we have them both on, he helps me stand. Then he passes over my phone, wallet, the medicine Kiwi left, and my keys. I shove them into various pockets before giving him a nod to let him know I’m all set.

“Last time, RC. You sure you want to travel? It’s not going to be fun.”

There are only a few who shorten my officer position when they need to emphasize whatever it is they’ve got to say.

“Said I was. Meant what I said.”

“Right. Let’s do this then. I’ll let you lead, that way you can let me know when you need my help.”

I take my time as we descend the stairs. The fuzziness in my head from the pain meds makes the trip even more tedious because the last thing I fucking need is to take a tumble. I’d never make it home to Bailee and Lyric.

The party is raging when I get down there, but I barely pay it any mind. It’s not my concern seeing as I have no plans on joining them in the debauchery taking place. My only priority is getting home to my girls.

“Oh my god.”

The loud screech pierces my eardrums, causing me to wince as it sends sharp stabs of pain through my head.

Rachel bounds over, jerking to a stop in front of me. “Oh, my poor baby,” she croons, her hand aiming for my battered face.

I jerk away from her, the thought of her touching me sending me into a slight panic.

“Don’t,” I bark. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“What?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “Let me just check on you, baby. I know you’re hurting. Let me make it all better.”

“Stop fucking callin’ me that. Told you before, ain’t your anything. Got no fuckin’ claim on me. Never will. Stop actin’ like it.”

Normally, a woman’s watery eyes make me uncomfortable, but most of those women don’t have the evil glint in their eyes like she does, telling me they’re pure manipulation. Heather used to do that shit all the time, and it makes me sick to my fucking stomach.

“You’re mine,” she says, her eyes sparking with that dangerous edge again.

How the fuck did I miss this in her before?

“Crazy bitch,” I mutter. “I’m not yours. Keep this shit up and you’ll be out of the club.”

Rachel’s eyes dim until they’re empty, and she nods with a hard swallow. “You’re right. I apologize.” She lowers her head in a submissive move. “It won’t happen again, Steel.”

I have a hard time believing that, but I step around her anyway, dismissing her from my mind.

Wraith stops us by the door. “Where are you going, brother?”

“Home to my woman and kid.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt whatever speech he’s about to give. “Look, I’ll bring Lee here tomorrow. We’ll have the fuckin’ pictures.”

Wraith nods. “I hear you. Be careful going home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I reply, scooting around him and out the door.

Jordan doesn’t talk much on the way to my place. Not that I expected him to. Most people know there’s only a select few I’ll carry on long conversations with, and he isn’t one of them. The familiar scenery soothes the anxiety of being cooped up in this fucking cage.

Rolling down the window, I lean my head through the opening, letting the cool air rush over me. If I close my eyes, it’s close enough to the way it feels on my bike that I can trick my mind into believing that’s what I’m doing.

I must have fallen asleep with my damn head out the window because the next thing I know, Jordan is putting the cage in park and carefully waking me up to get the code to my gate. He punches in the code that I change every couple days and the tall gates swing open. Thankfully, the driveway to my place is paved smoothly so my body isn’t being jarred too much.

As soon as he pulls in front of the house and shuts the engine off, I’m working my way out of this fucking thing. I don’t want to be inside it any longer than I need to be. I’d never ride in that fucking thing if I could help it. The only reason I’m able to stand the Bronco is because I’ve had it modified for the roof to come off.

Now that I got my girl full-time, though, I’ll be using that damn cage more than I want to. But it’s a sacrifice I’m happy to make.

Jordan helps me up the stairs and holds me up on the porch while I use my phone to deactivate my alarm system. As soon as I push open the door, I hear the double clicks of the pistol as Bailee racks the slide, and I know that if we move any farther without announcing ourselves, one of us will end up full of holes.

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