Page 53 of Steel

She looks toward the kiddie pool, stepping through the door onto the porch to yell, “Austin, time to go.”

“You don’t have to—”

“We do, Steel.” She uses my road name like she’s trying to prove a point, and I hate it. “This is your life. My father’s life… but it’s not mine. And that was a good reminder of it.”

Austin runs over to Tempe, grabbing her leg and soaking it with his wet clothes. She drops her irritation for him and pats him on the head, even as he starts to complain about having to leave so soon.

And as I watch them walk away, every step eats away at a piece of me.

This is your life.

It is, and that’s always been more than enough. Except right now, it isn’t.

15

Tempe

At twenty-two, I shouldn’tbe so jaded. But putting up defenses is what feels safe, and it’s the only way I survived my childhood, so I can’t seem to help it.

I learned at a young age that trust is delicate. People enjoy breaking it more than building upon it.

Mom’s half-hearted promises.

Men constantly coming and going.

After a while, I learned not to count on anyone but myself. I survived, earning every inch of my thick skin in the process.

So I can’t figure out how Jameson gets under it so easily.

He asked for my trust, and I wanted to think I was handing it tohim,not his club. I wanted to think there was still a man beneath the skull and wings on his cut. I forgot for a second that these men plant their roots here,watering them with the blood of their traitors, sacrificing everything until that’s all they are: a Twisted King.

Jameson probably thinks I left the barbeque because of Reina, but she was just one more reminder of how little I fit into this place. How this is all temporary for me, but for them, this is everything they believe in.

I understand his loyalty.

I even understand Reina’s jealousy.

What I can’t do is make myself a part of it. No amount of explanation erases the fact that this is his home, not mine. I need to stop getting so comfortable when I’ll be gone soon.

Once Jameson takes out the threat, Austin and I are leaving. It’s just the two of us, and I can’t let myself think anything more than that.

Luna bounces up and down, circling the punching bag. It’s unnecessary in a fight, but I’m getting the impression she’d rather be moving around than sitting still. Finally pausing at the other side, she plants a right hook on the bag with all her strength, hitting the bag so hard her purple hair almost falls out of her bun with the sheer force of it.

“Nice.” I watch her continue to circle before she jabs at it again.

Nothing clears the mind like movement, so I’m thankful Luna is apparently as active as I am. She showed up at the house this morning to see if I wanted to work out and asked if I was still willing to teach her how to throw a punch.

It was the perfect excuse to get out of the house, even if we are still on the Twisted Kings compound.

There are several buildings scattered across the property, and the gym is one of them. It looks like an old barn that’s been converted. The doors are wide open since it’s a nice day outside, but the large air conditioning unit proves it must get blistering hot in here in the middle of summer.

Austin is building tents and car ramps with the mats in the corner while Luna and I work out.

“That was good.” I smile when she hits the bag again. “Remember, the key is to punchthroughit. Pretend you’re trying to hit whatever’s on the other side.”

Luna nods, readjusting her stance. She winds her arm back and strikes the bag again, harder this time. It swings, making the rafter creak.

“That’s it.”

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