Page 176 of Steel

“Think about telling your brothers. They should know.”

“What good would it do now?”

“Truth shall set you free bullshit.”

I snort, my shoulders shaking. “So wise, bossman.”

He leans down and bites my lip. “Better remember that, baby girl.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“All I can ask.”

I grab his beard, pulling him in for another quick kiss. “Let’s put our girl to bed, yeah?”

After we put Lyric in the room with the rest of the kids, Steel chases me back to our room. A few people watch us with warm, amused eyes as I throw my head back in laughter as I evade him.

He catches me, tosses me over his shoulder, and spanks my ass. I hang there, laughing, my heart so full of him. When we get in the room, Steel doesn’t even give me time to breathe before he’s dropping me to the mattress and devouring me.

Hands are impatient as we pull off clothes. Mouths are hungry as we nip and lick one another. Bodies are hot and full of need by the time he slams inside me.

No matter how much we fail to speak with our mouths, our bodies are never shy about saying what needs to be said.

Chapter forty-three

Putting a bunch ofpeople who are used to roaming free on lockdown is never a good idea, which is why we try to not do it if possible. Tempers tend to flare, kids get wild, and the club whores, some of them anyway, start getting sneaky. That shit will cause chaos quicker than anything else.

It was damn near a cause for celebration when lockdown was lifted.

One good thing that came out of it is the bond between me and my Hummingbird growing stronger. Seeing her in my element, around my people, proved wrong all the previous notions I had about her not fitting in with us.

Learning the dark truth about her past had me wanting to break away from her and head to the prison to take her dad out myself. It’d be so fucking easy to get to him, but it was as if she knew what I was thinking because she tightened her hold on me and continued her story.

I want to blame her brothers and rage at them for not seeing what was right under their noses. They had to have fucking suspectedsomething, but then I think about my woman and thetype of person she is, and I know she’d have done everything she could to protect them from that knowledge.

When Bailee loves, she loves so goddamn hard, and she’ll always put her life on the line to protect the ones she loves. It’s something I need to remember about her.

Still doesn’t mean I’m not going to have a talk with Desdemona when I can because someone who puts their hands on my woman doesn’t deserve to draw air anymore.

Her mama knowing . . . well, that’s something I might end up needing to have a chat about.

Shit’s been quiet at the club’s businesses, and it puts me on fucking edge like always. Nothing good ever comes from silence from our enemies. It means they’re plotting, and knowing Killer, it’s going to be a fucking mess.

Emmy Lou called yesterday and informed me that she hasn’t got shit on Killer. Not surprising. He hasn’t gotten as far in life as he has without being smart and having deep connections. None of the things she has found can be used against him. Hell, it can’t even be used tofindhim. Our only bet is Bailee’s pictures. Em suggested maybe going to Max, their FBI contact, with the pictures because they’ll put Killer away.

I told her I’d run the idea by Wraith, but putting him away isn’t going to stop him. He’ll just run shit from prison because he’ll have his whole club at his beck and call. The Night Skulls will need to be taken out if we want the threats to stop.

All I know is it won’t be an easy battle, and while I’m looking forward to putting an end to the shit going on, I’m not ready to lose the people I know we’re going to lose in the fight.

Rolling out from under the car I’m working on, I climb to my feet and grab the rag from the lifted hood to wipe grease and grime from my hands. I unzip the overalls and pull my arms out, leaving them hanging from my waist as I walk to the work order board and check it over. Before signing off on it, I start thevehicle, smirking when she purrs under my hand like a brand-new kitten.

It’s been fucking great getting back under the hood of a vehicle again now that the shop is back in working order. Besides riding my bike and burying myself between Bailee’s thighs, getting filthy from tearing vehicles apart and putting them back together soothes the chaos that’s always present under my skin.

I sign off on the work order and pull the car out of the bay and into one of the slots reserved for completed work. Thankfully, most of our previous customers understood the situation when their vehicles were damaged. They weren’t fucking happy by any means, but they understood. Suppose it helped that we offered free service for three years on top of the money the insurance paid out.

As I head back into the office to let the customer know their vehicle is ready for pickup, my phone rings.

I slide it out of my pocket, frowning when I see it’s the rehab center. “Yeah?”

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