Page 62 of Steal

I swallow hard at the intensity in his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,” I try, but he cuts me off again, "Answer the question, Cassy; do you love me?”

I sigh. “You know I do.”

He nods. There’s no point lying. The man owns my heart, he always has, and the fact Dad loved him, even when he screwed up, cemented he was the one for me, but that doesn’t change things.

“I know you want to say it doesn’t change things, and you’re right, it doesn’t, but it helps because it means we are not done.” He steps forward and cups my cheek. “Four years, and we still love each other, Cassidy Brody. Shouldn’t that mean something?”

I slowly close my eyes, hating how they tear up, and lean into his work roughened palm.

I haven’t changed my name back because I didn’t want to confuse the hospital staff, but also because I always wished my last name was Brody….

“I don’t know if I can overcome my trust issues, Colt,” I admit, and he brushed his thumbs over my cheeks.

My tears fall as he whispers, “It won’t happen overnight, Trouble. It’ll take time and hard work, but I’m willing to put in the effort. The question is, though, are you?”

I swallow hard, my eyes racing between his.

He held a gun to my head, he called me a patch-chasing whore, and I know that was to protect me—Piston showed me video recordings of all the conversations Steal and Anchor hadwithout the club knowing—but that doesn’t change four years of his neglect, of being an afterthought.

I go to answer his question, determined to put myself and my happiness first, when my phone beeps. I sigh, pulling out of his hold to check it and make sure it’s not Killian.

I frown when I see a message from an unknown number, but my heart stops when I see a picture of my unconscious daughter with a grinning Faith beside her.

I gasp in horror. “Oh God….” Steal quickly takes my phone.

“Fuck!” He curses and gives me my phone back. He gets his out and runs out of the room, shouting into the phone, “Get to my house now, go!”and I rush out of the staff room after him.

Sandra frowns when she sees my frantic look, and I state, “I-I need to leave; it’s Moira….”

Her eyes widen, and she nods, “I’ll let Dr. Carmichael and Tanner know.”

I rush out of the ER only to find Steal climbing onto his bike. Instead of running to my car, I sprint over to him.

He holds his arm out, and I take it instantly, and jump on behind him, my arms going around his waist just as he spins away from the door of the hospital. I place my head on his back as my tears fall, my hold tightening around him.

She took my daughter….

It takes us half the time it normally would to get to the clubhouse when Cam opens the gates for us.

Steal parks near the door and I climb off before he even cuts the engine, and rush to the door with Steal hot on my heels, and chaos ensues when we enter the common room.

Women are crying while Medic is frantically putting pressure on a wound on Killian’s chest, and my eyes tear up seeing him unconscious on the floor.

“How in the fuck did she get onto club grounds, shoot Killian, then leave with a three-year-old without anyone knowing?” Anchor shouts with anger as Piston taps frantically at his laptop.

“Fuck,” Steal rasps behind me, and I shake myself out of my panic, and rush down the steps toward Medic.

His head shoots up when I skid to a stop next to him. He exclaims, “Fuck, Cassidy, he was shot in the chest and we brought him here, but I-I, fuck….”

I knock his hand out of the way and inspect Killian’s wound, leaning over to grab his shoulder and hip to roll him. Medic understands and helps, and I curse when I see no exit wound.

“Shit, the bullet is still lodged in his chest,” I curse, my heart pounding.

“Piston, what do we know?” Steal demands and I roll Killian back, then press against the wound, my mind spinning.

We’re not near the medical room, and even then, Medic doesn’t have the equipment I need.

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