Page 179 of Steel

I try not to let that bother me because I’m trying to keep out of their business, but it’s hard when I assumed we were a team in this relationship.

He’s been distracted lately. Most of it is club business, but he has voiced his worry about Killer and the Night Skulls being so quiet. My man’s got a lot in his mind and on his shoulders, and I wish there was more I could do to ease some of it.

Our bedroom door creeps open, and the light from the hallway windows peeks through and shadows Lyric against the wall.

She is quiet as she makes her way over to my side of the bed, but from the way Steel’s breathing changes against my back, he’s already awake.

She falls to her knees beside the bed. “Hey, Bee,” she whispers, “can we cook breakfast?”

I run my eyes over her face, noting the sadness. There’s usually only one person who puts that look on her. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she just had a bad dream. Either way, she needs me, and I’ll never let her down if I can help it.

Reaching out, I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Sure, we can. Why don’t you go in there and start getting stuff together, yeah?”

“‘Kay,” she whispers back, kissing me on the cheek before softly running out of the room.

When Lyric pulls the door shut behind her, Steel removes his arms from around me. “I’ll go take care of her,” he says, kissing me on the back of my head.

I roll over before he gets up so that he looms over me. I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck when he maneuvers between my legs. “Let me handle it. Please?”

“Sure?”

I nod, leaning up to brush a kiss across his lips before falling back. “Positive. She woke me for a reason.”

A piece of short hair falls over my eye from where it’s finally starting to grow out, and Steel lifts it out of the way before brushing his fingers over my face. “Fuckin’ lucky she’s got you. Both of us are.”

“Eh, I’m pretty lucky myself.”

He leans down and steals my mouth, his tongue sneaking inside to wrap around mine in a heated, sensual twirl. He keeps it short, pulling back before pecking me one, two, three more times, then he rolls off me and onto his stomach. He grabs a pillow, pulls it into his chest, and closes his eyes.

“Go handle our girl,” he mumbles, his body relaxing into the mattress as he falls back to sleep.

Lyric has all the ingredients for French toast set out on the counter. She’s humming some melancholy tune as she sets the table but lifts her head to smile at me when she hears me walk into the kitchen.

“Good morning, little bit,” I murmur, pulling her into a hug and leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You ready to make some delicious French toast?”

“Yeah. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s still sleeping. Tell you what, how about we take him some breakfast in bed? He’s been super busy and would probably enjoy being spoiled a bit, you think?”

“That’s a good idea,” she agrees, grabbing her step stool and setting it next to me by the counter.

Lyric cracks the eggs in the bowl, being extra careful about making sure no eggshells go in. I add some heavy cream,cinnamon, and a dash of vanilla and whisk it all together as Lyric grabs the brioche bread and places it on the mat next to the mixture.

I’ve got the first six slices on the griddle when I finally decide to broach the topic with Lyric. “Want to tell me why you look so sad this morning, little bit?” I ask quietly, flipping the pieces before grabbing the warming tray.

“Mommy called me this morning,” she whispers.

“And that made you sad?”

“Bee, you’re not gonna go away, right?”

Her watery tone has me removing the French toast from the griddle and flicking the temp to warm before squatting in front of her so I can look her in the eyes.

“No, of course not,” I promise despite knowing I shouldn’t. “You’re stuck with me, my little heart song. Want to tell me what’s going on in here?” I tap her head gently.

“Mommy said we’re gonna be a family again. Me, her, and Dad. She said she’s going to make sure of it.”

Freaking hell, what is wrong with that woman? Who the heck manipulates a child like this?

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