Page 30 of Steel

“I’m nothing like Helix.” Steel’s voice drops, and I realize I’ve hit a sore spot.

“I’m not saying you don’t have your differences,” I clarify. “But a biker is a biker. Nothing matters more than the patch on your cut. Regardless of who has to live with that sacrifice. At least you’re smart enough not to have kids who you’ll just disappoint... You don’t, do you?”

Jameson shakes his head, looking more confused now than anything, even as I’m insulting him.

“Good.” I smooth my fingers over my shirt, realizing I’m rambling. “Maybe consider keeping it that way for their sake.”

He stares at me for a moment, probably trying to decide what to make of my word vomit.

“You’re awfully judgmental for someone who met me yesterday.”

I shrug because he’s not wrong. “Be less of an asshole, and maybe I’ll get a different opinion.”

“Says the girl who broke into my clubhouse.”

“Can’t break in if all the doors were open.”

Jameson’s eyes narrow, but there’s amusement in his gaze. A showdown we both keep walking into, and I wish I didn’t like fighting with him as much as I do.

I press my lips together, and his leather scent floods my nose with my inhale, making me realize we’re somehow now face-to-face. My neck is craned back to look up at him. I don’t know when we got so close, but our gravitational rage pulled us together.

“Do you have a pool?” Austin pops up beside us, breaking the tension.

I take a step back and get some air while Jameson closes the front door before looking down at Austin. “Nope.”

“It’s March. You don’t need a pool.” I pat Austin on the head.

“But summer’s hot.”

“We won’t still be here this summer.”

Austin frowns, probably disappointed because this is exactly how Mom operated, shuffling him from one place to the next.

It’s just one more reason that I need to find a way to create stability for my brother once we leave here.

“Jameson, is that you?” A woman’s voice comes from the top of the stairs, and when I look up, I see her peeking over the railing. “Oh my, we have guests.”

She hurries down the staircase, tucking her gray hair behind her ears as she does. She twists her strands around one of her hands and then uses a clip to pin it back. The woman has the same gray eyes as Jameson, but unlike his stone-cold gaze, hers is warm.

“You didn’t tell me people were coming over.” She squeezes his arm when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.

“Tempe, this is my grandma.” Jameson nods at her. “Grandma, this is Tempe and her brother, Austin.”

“Tempe, what a beautiful name.” She reaches for a hug and pulls me in, being the exact opposite of her standoffish grandson. “You don’t hear that often. The last Tempe I met was—”

“Helix’s kid.” Jameson finishes her sentence.

She pulls back and looks at me, her eyes widening. “Oh my, I haven’t seen you since you were two. You’re all grown up.”

Her eyes dart between me and Jameson.

“Long story,” he says.

“I’m sure it is.” But she doesn’t seem worried about it. Stepping back, she looks down at my brother. “You must be Austin.”

He curls against my leg and nods.

It takes him time to warm up to people. Which is why I’m surprised he’s been so comfortable around Jameson today. It’s rare he’ll talk to a stranger until he has time to assess them, but he’s already his bossy little self with the president of the most feared MC on the West Coast.

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