Page 40 of Steel

“Said you wanted to protect your brother, and that’s the whole reason I’m doin’ it. I understand protectin’ your family. I do it every day.” He blows out a breath. “Fuck. I don’t know. Think I’m just feelin’ guilty, babe.”

Steel is normally a quiet man. He’s fierce and loyal, and the club means everything to him. Worst case scenarios are playing with his head, and I’m an easy target.

“Hey, bossman. Listen to me. I promise I’m going to stay low and out of the Dirty Mavericks’ way anytime they show up here. I’ll do everything I can to make sure they don’t find out about me. I’m so sorry, Jericho. I’m sorry that you’re having to hide this stuff from them. I never wanted to put you in that position. You can tell them anytime you’re ready.”

“Lee, you know enough about me to know I don’t do shit that I don’t want to. Grown fuckin’ man. Have no intention of keepin’ this shit from them, especially since it involves another club. Right now, they’ve got enough shit goin’ on.”

“Is everything okay with the club?”

“Yeah, just club business. Goin’ to bring some dinner. Anything in particular you want?” he asks.

My heart races. Dinner with Steel? Man, it’s been so long since I’ve had an actual meal with him. Even then, it was never because he wanted to just spend time with me. The only reason we ate together was to sustain us so we’d keep our energy up so we could fuck as much as possible before he had to take off again, usually because Heather called and used his daughter as leverage.

“No, there’s nothing in particular I want.”

Except you.

“Be there soon, Hummingbird.”

After he hangs up, I glance around the apartment, wincing at the mess of it. Lifting my arms, I sniff myself, satisfied that I don’t seem to be as messy as my home is.

I grab the cane that Reva loaned me to help keep the pressure off my wounded leg and make my way around the apartment, picking it up as much as I can, then I head to the bedroom to freshen up quick.

I’m not sure why I give a shit. Once Steel leaves here, I’m not going to matter to him anyway. Out of sight, out of mind. Just the way it’s always been.

I’m pouring a glass of wine when Steel knocks twice then comes inside with a scowl. Someone would almost believe it’s a permanent part of his face if they’ve never seen him smile, which I’ve only been blessed with a few times myself. Even then, I don’t think it was a full-blown smile. That’s something I’d just about die to see. Because I have a feeling it’s not something he does often, and you’re blessed if he grants you one.

“Door wasn’t locked,” he says with a grunt, sitting the bags on the counter.

A loud rumble comes from my stomach as my nose catches a whiff of the delicious scent of Mexican food.

The man brought my favorite without even knowing what it was.

I take a sip from my glass and study him over the rim as he grabs paper plates from the cabinet and carries them to the living room before coming back to grab the food.

“You said I’m safe here. Why do I need it locked?” I ask.

He peers over his shoulder at me. “Can never be too safe. Enemies everywhere. Brothers also don’t know this is occupied yet, so they could easily come here for some fuckin’ reason.”

“Keep the door locked. Got it. I’m sorry, Steel. I wasn’t thinking. I just remembered you said I was safe, so nothing else crossed my mind.”

Steel’s body softens a little as he strolls over and wraps his arm around my waist. “You’re good. Just keep it locked when you’re down here.”

After he makes sure I’m settled on the couch, he scoots the coffee table closer so I’m able to reach it, then he opens the various boxes of dishes. He puts some from each container on my plate and hands it to me along with utensils and a napkin.

“Need a refill on your wine or want something else to eat?”

How did I forget this part of him? The one that makes sure I’m taken care of before setting himself up? It’s like he’s got this innate need to take care of me so he knows I’m getting everything I need. He’s willing to give me that much of himself.

I have to remember not to get caught up in all this. It’d be much easier if my stupid heart would get the freaking memo.

“A refill, please.”

He brings the bottle of wine and a beer for himself. Silence settles around the apartment as he makes his plate and then sits back, kicking his boots up onto the corner of the table, and takes a mouthful of food.

“Need to talk to you about something,” he says after washing his bite down with beer.

“I’m listening,” I say with a nod, sliding a forkful of dirty rice into my mouth.

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