Page 203 of Steel

I slide my tomahawk from its holster and climb to my feet. Blade takes my spot at her side, letting her lean against him as I go take care of one of those demons he mentioned her having.

“You touched what belonged to me,” I growl, holding my tomahawk loosely at my side.

Killer laughs. “She screamed so pretty. Too bad I didn’t get to feel her cunt choking me as I did it.”

A red haze fills my vision. I swing the tomahawk through the air and impale it in his jugular. His blood coats my skin as I pull it out and swing again.

And again.

And again.

Until his head separates from his body and falls at my feet. The masked man tosses his head to me. Instead of catching it, I let it drop to join his body.

“This concludes our business here,” the lead masked figure states.

“Loyalty and accordance in the face of evil,” their mechanical voices blend together creepily as they fade into the night.

“Steel, go get your woman checked out. Everyone else, our fallen brothers will be taken with us so we can honor their sacrifices. The rest of the bodies need to be moved inside the warehouse so we can torch it. I want nothing left but ashes, brothers,” Wraith orders.

I spit on Killer’s body before I turn back to my woman.

My Hummingbird has a long recovery ahead of her, but I’m going to be at her side the whole way.

I’m never letting her out of my sight again.

Chapter fifty-two

Three Weeks Later

I’ve seen a differentside of Steel these past three weeks. He’s been so amazing throughout my healing process. It’s as if my kidnapping opened his eyes to how short our lives can be and how quickly they can be taken from us. He’s working hard to prove to me his feelings and how remorseful he is for the shit he pulled that day at the club.

I spent a week and a half in the hospital. The burns on my face, neck, and thigh were third degree while the ones on my breast and stomach were only second. Thankfully, they weren’t large enough that the doctor thought skin grafts were needed. My hospital stay was merely to keep an eye out for any infections that could occur from the burns.

The first week home, it was hard to look at myself in the mirror. I’ve never been a vain person, but the drastic changesto my appearance only served to remind me of what I’d gone through in those hellish hours with Killer.

Steel’s been showing me every day that he sees beyond my scars, and after our conversation about them, it’s getting easier to meet my eyes in the mirror.

“How can you stand to look at me anymore?” I cry, lying caged in his arms.

Steel leans down and ghosts his lips over the scars. “You’re not your scars, Hummingbird. They’re simply a part of you. Can look at you ‘cause you’re you. You’re a fuckin’ survivor, and these are testaments to your strength.” He kisses the one on the inside of my thigh and peers up at me through his dark, thick lashes. “I love them because I love you.”

Every day, I’m learning to love myself again. I thought about having surgery to cover my scars, but after that conversation with Steel, I decided against it. He’s right. They’re reminders of what I went through, but they’re also proof that I survived that hell.

Steel encouraged me to go to therapy. I was hesitant, not really wanting to pull my demons out for a stranger to see, but after talking to my brothers and sister, I finally chose to go. I wasn’t going to heal if I kept bottling things up and pretending they didn’t happen. Because of the nature of what went down, Steel connected me with Griz and Mama Bear’s daughter, Kaitlyn. She’s helped me work through the guilt I feel each time I look at Lyric. Seeing her innocent face reminded me of what I took from her. I’d been unintentionally pulling away from her because I was scared of her hating me when she finds out that I’m the one who killed her mom. Steel caught on to what I was doing, and it resulted in one of the long conversations we’ve taken to having.

“You’re pulling away from her,” Steel says quietly as we watch Lyric play with the new dog her grandparents bought her.

She’s smiling, but it’s tinged with sadness, and my heart clenches when I recall her asking me to come outside with them and I turned her away with some stupid excuse.

“I can’t lose her, Jericho,” I whisper, laying my hand against the cool glass that separates me from her.

“Never goin’ to happen.”

I shake my head. “You can’t promise that.”

“No, I can’t. Got to trust her love for you. Startin’ to see our girl is much smarter than I ever gave her credit for. She sees more than she talks about.” He runs his finger along my jawline. “Don’t let Heather win at tearin’ you two apart.”

Those last words of his snapped me out of my guilt-induced fog, and I’ve spent the last week and a half trying to make up for the distance I accidentally put between Lyric and me.

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