Page 34 of Steel

Marley’s dating life is so much more interesting than mine. I’m not a virgin, but I rarely date. There’s no time. And now with Austin, there will be even less.

A phone ringing on the other side of the bar catches my attention, and I look up to see Sonny lifting his to his ear. It must suck being a prospect, sitting here all night drinking water, watching out for some girl just because their president told them to.

But I guess they signed up for it.

A group of out-of-towners walks in, and Marley and I get back to pouring drinks. It’s always easy to separate the locals from those passing through because out-of-towners aren’t here long enough to see past the bright lights and ringing slot machines.

“What can I get you?” I place two napkins in front of a couple wearing matching light-up cowboy hats.

“Your darkest stout and a vodka cranberry.”

“You got it.” I mix her drink first, then grab a beer glass, but when I pull the handle, foam comes out. “Shit, the keg’s empty.”

“Want me to take care of it?” Marley asks.

I shake my head when I see her serving a group that just walked in. “I’ve got it.”

I wave at my customers for them to give me a second and head into the back room. The wall that backs to the bar is lined with kegs, and I head toward the one that needs to be swapped. But the moment I reach it, I hear the door open again.

“Marley, I told you I had it.”

There’s no response as a body presses close behind me, and I spin around. A man I don’t recognize has me cornered. His dark hair is shaved down to his scalp, and his beady eyes make the hair on the back of my head stand on its ends.

“You’ve been a bad girl.” He grabs me by the throat and slams my back against the nearest wall.

I scratch at his wrists, but it just makes him grip on tighter.

“Think you’re brave with your bodyguards out front, do you?” the man asks, pressing close.

“Who are you?”

He tightens his grip on my throat, and his eyes narrow. “Who do you think?”

“You work for him?” I choke out. “The man from last night.”

“No, he’s like me. Just someone getting the job done for our boss.” He ticks his head to the side. “Where’s the package?”

“I don’t know.” My nails dig into his wrist, but he refuses to release me. “They have it.”

“The Twisted Kings?”

I try to nod but can’t with how he’s choking me.

“I’m here to deliver a message. Bring us the package, and we’ll let you live.”

“I—” His fingers grip tighter. “I can’t.”

The man’s teeth clench, and he’s holding me so tight my vision is getting darker. Spots form in the corners of my periphery, and all I see is the man’s eyes gleaming with fascination as he chokes me.

His nails dig into my neck, breaking skin, just as a loud bang rings out across the room.

One second, I’m pinned to the wall, and the next, the man’s being pulled off me.

I reach for my throat as I choke for air, collapsing with a deep inhale. Light spots the corners of my vision as I find my breath, and for a moment, I think I’m imagining Jameson in front of me.

Not Jameson… Steel.

He pops his knuckles, and he’s not the man who put my brother and me in his house to keep us safe. He’s the embodiment of the president of the most feared motorcycle club on the West Coast.

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