Page 30 of Steal

Hours later, I sigh as I lean against the lockers in the staff room, Tanner watching me like a hawk.

“I’m alright,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.

“No, you are not. Your sister slapped you, something I am still in shock about. I mean, I know it was hard for her when you walked into that room, but to slap you.... Damn. And your ex, the father of your child, is hanging around the hospital like a bad smell, and let's not forget you’ve just had to operate, your first solo at that, on your friend who may not wake up, who might lose her baby….”

“Okay, today has sucked,” I choke out, and he nods, taking me into his arms.

Meeting Tanner in med school and having him on my side was the best thing to ever happen to me. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without him.

“Right, your leather clad biker is still on hospital grounds, and I know you want to go see your sister. So why don’t I grab Mo-Mo and take her back to yours, and you go see your sister.” I open my mouth to refuse, because I don’t get enough time with my daughter as it is, but he continues, “I know you don’t like to miss your evenings with her, but I think you need to do this, sweetie….”

I sigh but nod and squeeze him tighter before reluctantly removing myself from his embrace and grabbing my bag.

I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and walk out.

I quickly pass Natalie’s room, popping my head in, not noticing the man guarding her door. I see Piston asleep, his head on her bed, his hand in hers, and my heart softens.

“He’s finally opened his eyes and realized he loves his wife,” a voice says from beside me and I smile a little, recognizing it.

I shut the door and look to my left, locking eyes with Anchor's dark brown ones. He looks me over before he says, “You are a sight for sore eyes, Cassy.”

My eyes tear up, and I admit, “I haven’t been called that in years….”

He nods and murmurs, “I’ll bet,” before he pulls me into his hold. I go willingly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Fuck, you’ve been missed, sweetheart,” he rasps, and I nod before pulling back, and his eyes racing between mine.

“He tried to rape you, didn’t he?” he inquires, and I look down, not willing to admit it. “Cassy!” he snaps, and I look at him and shrug.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Anchor. Steal made his decision.”

Anchor sighs. “And did it not occur to you he did that to ensure the older generation didn’t kill you then and there?”

I swallow hard and admit, “It did at some point, but then I’d remember all the times he put the club first, put Faith first, leaving me in the dark. It’s been four years, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You know Brute tried to rape Heaven, right?” he says, and I nod.

“I know. She’s been telling me for years to reach back out to Steal, but I just can’t. I’ve moved on with my life, and I refuse to go back because, honestly, putting myself first is the best feeling in the world.”

Anchor's mouth hangs open in shock as he stutters, “Y-you, I mean, you’re still….” I tilt my head, raising a brow, and he snaps, “You still see my wife?”

I grin and pat his cheek. “Of course. At least once a month.”

That said, I kiss his cheek and walk away, leaving him in shock.

Heaven is going to kill me, but honestly, I can’t hear any more excuses she comes up with about why Steal held a gun to my head.

It doesn’t matter, as far as I’m concerned. He did it, end of story, and I meant what I said.

Putting me first is amazing, even if it makes me selfish.

In the staff parking lot, I rummage through my bag, looking for my keys, growling to myself because, yet again, I forgot to clean my bag out before work.

As soon as I hook my finger through the loop,hisvoice rings out. I hate the way my stomach tightens…and the way it soothes me.

“When did you get back into town?” he asks calmly, and my clit throbs, reminding me how much I missed him, and I silently tell the whore side of my brain to pack it in.

Putting yourself first, I remind myself before turning my head to see him leaning against his bike near my car, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, his eyes taking in my features.

I know I look a little different. My hair is longer, I have bags beneath my eyes, and yes, I’m a little bit bigger after giving birth. Pregnancy helped me grow into my curves, and I love it. My clothes don’t hang anymore, instead, they show off my figure, and damn, does my ass look great in a pair of jeans.

---