Vengeance Road (Torpedo Ink 2)

ELEVEN

Breezy was exhausted. They’d been riding for hours. She was warm enough. Steele had seen to that. He even had gloves for her. They weren’t riding with their colors and she was grateful. She wasn’t a club girl and she didn’t want to be associated with a club again. She didn’t want to feel the way the Swords had always made her feel—worthless.

She was a little shocked at how many of the other members of Torpedo Ink had elected to go with them. Thirteen of the eighteen surrounded them. Even Savage. For some reason that surprised her. Savage had always, along with Reaper, stayed near Czar to protect him. The little she’d seen of him had made her believe nothing had changed. Reaper remained behind to watch over Czar and his family, but Savage rode with them. They’d brought a truck with them and Transporter was driving it. A car seat was in the backseat and just looking at it made her feel as if they were really going to get Zane back.

The Swords wouldn’t have considered getting a child back from a kidnapper an emergency. Most wouldn’t have bothered to go, and if they knew there was a risk, most likely none would have gone. It wasn’t because they didn’t have a brotherhood; it was simply that a child was as worthless to them as she had always been.

Breezy pressed her face against Steele’s back, trying not to think about her breakdown in the kitchen. Panic attacks happened, but not very often. She’d been a little shocked that Steele had been so gentle with her. That had continued for the rest of the evening and night.

They’d made a few stops to stretch their legs and eat the food Alena had prepared for them. Lana rode with them, but Alena was home, helping to watch over Blythe and Anya and the children with the skeleton crew left behind. They’d left right at three A.M. and were now in New Mexico approaching Santa Fe. It was one in the morning and they’d been riding hard nearly twenty-four hours.

The club members were machines. No one looked or acted tired. It was as if once they’d started on their chosen mission, they were different individuals. They looked as dangerous as they felt. When they stopped at a rest stop, no one came near them. Steele stayed close to her, walking her to the women’s room and waiting until she came out. He had a hand on her at all times. Holding her hand. Slinging an arm around her shoulders as they walked. Placing his palm in the middle of her back. When they ate, his thigh was tight against hers. She found it comforting—and she needed comfort.

She had done her best to keep Zane out of her mind because if she didn’t, she might go crazy. Now, as they got closer to the apartment where Bridges and Junk had found her, she began shaking. Immediately, Steele dropped his gloved hand to cover hers. She tried to keep her teeth from chattering as the motorcycles slowed and turned up a street three blocks above her apartment building.

The night before, Steele, Maestro and Keys had eaten dinner, proclaiming her ability in the kitchen rivaled Alena’s, which she knew it didn’t. She could make decent meals, but she didn’t have the knowledge Alena did. It was nice that they’d acknowledged she’d cooked for them. When she’d been with the Swords, she often cooked meals for quite a few of the men and no one, not once, had said thanks to her.

Steele had taken her to bed and he’d been so sweet and gentle, worshiping every inch of her body, making her feel loved. That was what he was so good at. He made her feel loved. His entire focus was on her no matter what they were doing, and when he moved in her, staring into her eyes, his fingers threaded through hers, it was almost magical. He stole her heart every time.

She knew, more than any other reason, it was the way Steele touched her, the way his hands moved over her and the look on his face when he stared down into her eyes, that kept her tied to him. He couldn’t hide that. She didn’t have to wonder if he cared. When he was with her, she knew. It was always there in the things he did. Even when he ordered her around, she knew he was looking out for her, and that control made her feel safe when she’d never felt that way.

She hadn’t wanted to think too much about his declaration that she would wear his colors. Somehow, she’d let the way she felt about Steele, the explosive chemistry between them, make her forget about the fact that he was a member of a motorcycle club and she would have to accept that. She lay beside him afterward while he looked at the pictures in the camera, showing her the occasional one.

In each photograph he shared, her face showed every bit of her love for him. The intensity. It was caught on camera. She could see it etched into her skin. The feeling, so stark and raw, was in her eyes. She found it interesting that most of the photographs focused mainly on her face, not on what they were doing. It was those pictures, the ones he didn’t delete, that gave her the best insight into him. He needed to know she wanted to be with him. He needed to know someone loved him. He didn’t believe himself worthy of love, so he had a difficult time believing she really wanted to be with him.

That was a shock, and she’d laid next to him watching the expressions on his face as he held the camera up and looked at the viewer. Steele always appeared to have absolute confidence. He was the man people turned to in a crisis, and he came through. He was calm and never faltered. Looking at him, feeling his abnormal strength, knowing how skilled he was, it had never occurred to her that he might not believe himself worthy of love. That only made her want to show him how she felt about him all the more.

He’d nudged her and held up the viewer to show her other pictures taken. She couldn’t help but see how sexy it was when she was kneeling in front of him, his cock in her mouth, or when he had her laid out on the bar and his mouth was between her legs. Her face had shown pure ecstasy, because Steele gave her that.

He had her with sex. There was no question. They had explosive chemistry. She couldn’t resist him. She’d never been able to. She liked the way he took control. It was hot, and she reaped all the benefits. He could take her in the middle of Grand Central Station and she wouldn’t be able to say no. She’d forget everyone was around her because once he touched her, there was nothing else for her in the world.

On the other hand, she loved him with all her heart. Loved him. Her heart ached when she was close to him. She’d heard every word he said to her about his horrific childhood and she knew there was far more to it than he’d given her, and she could barely stand hearing that much. She wanted to be that woman for him, the one he needed. He told her she was, and she felt, deep down, that it was true.

She didn’t mind when he needed to know where she was. When he had to touch her when they were together. She didn’t mind that he wanted his way most of the time because she knew he would give her whatever she wanted when she protested. He always had. It was just that things didn’t matter to her as much as they seemed to matter to him. She didn’t mind that he had to have ridiculous photographs to remind himself that she loved him. None of that mattered to her.

Breezy didn’t even care about the men drifting in and out of the room when he made love to her—because every single time Steele touched her, no matter if he was rough or not, it felt like love. He didn’t look anywhere but at her. His focus was so complete that she knew he didn’t see the men moving around them. He felt safe because they were there. Safe to give her his complete attention. None of that mattered. But being in a club did.

The apartment she’d rented wasn’t in the best part of town, but it was affordable. In the year she’d been with Steele, he had insisted she learn self-defense and he’d worked with her daily. He’d talked to her about keeping in shape just because sometimes it came down to winning by outlasting your opponent. She’d taken everything to heart, but it still came down to money, and she hadn’t wanted to use Steele’s because it had made her feel like a whore. She’d taken what she needed to get started but had told herself she was saving the rest for emergencies.

She knew Steele’s body language and he wasn’t happy when he saw the neighborhood she lived in, and it made her ashamed. She should have swallowed her pride and used the money

to provide Zane with a better home. Three blocks over was the warehouse district. The seedy buildings were in long rows, some occupied, some not. The riders pulled to the curb just a short distance from the buildings and Savage and Keys rode forward toward them.

Breezy turned her head to put her mouth beside Steele’s ear. “What are they doing?”

There was a moment of silence. He turned his head toward her, and her stomach dropped. Concentrated fury met her gaze. His eyes blazed at her. “Best not to talk to me until I calm down, Bree.”

She had known if he saw the neighborhood he’d be upset. She squared her shoulders and opened her mouth to protest. He hadn’t been there. He didn’t know the first thing about her life without him. She couldn’t make the kind of money it would take to live in a better neighborhood, and sooner or later his money would have run out and she would have had to move. By being careful, she’d been able to live just on the fringe, save money, so she could move them when Zane needed to go to school.

He shook his head. “I have no problem pulling your ass off the bike and across my knee. Right here. Right now. I’m so fuckin’ pissed I can’t think straight and believe me, woman, when I tell you that doesn’t happen to me. The thought of you sitting on all that money, exposing yourself and our baby to this, for the sake of your pride, I want to fucking beat your ass until you can’t sit down for a month. So don’t talk to me right now.” He turned his face away from her.

She took a deep breath, anger rising at his accusation. Unfortunately, she knew he was right. He’d given her thousands of dollars. She could have found a better place, especially once she had Zane, but it hadn’t made sense to waste what she had when she would need it when he went to school. She knew that wasn’t the only reason. She’d been hurt, and she’d nursed that hurt. She kept it to the forefront so she wouldn’t go looking for him. For Steele. The love of her life.

She wasn’t the kind of woman to hold a grudge, and she couldn’t sustain anger. Part of that, she knew, was because of her childhood and how helpless she had been. It had never mattered if she’d been angry. She hadn’t dared voice it, or any other protest. She had learned to find other ways to make her life better. Anger hadn’t been an emotion that was useful to her survival, so she’d discarded it early on.

She hadn’t noticed that Steele was angry very often—as in never when they’d been together. She’d had more of a temper than he had in those days. She rubbed her hand on her thigh, wanting to apologize to him, but she didn’t know how to tell him that saving that money had been a form of self-preservation. She’d needed to have pride to survive. Once Zane was born, she’d held on to it for emergencies. With the whole sum intact, she’d known if she ever saw Steele again, she could hand it all to him. So many reasons. None were good enough to risk their child’s life in this neighborhood.

Breezy was almost so distracted by her guilt that she didn’t see the man coming out of the shadows to approach Savage and Keys, who had stopped two buildings along the row. He handed something to Keys and took a small flat package in exchange. Keys gave him a small salute and waited until the man had gone to his own bike and disappeared up the street.

Steele had never turned off his motorcycle and he reached back and caught her hands, jerking them around him before moving forward with the rest of the group to the rows of buildings. They followed Keys and Savage, who drove past the first two rows straight to the middle building in the last row. Behind it was a stream, snaking its way through a deep carved gully and over jagged rocks and boulders.

The moment he shut down the bike, she slipped off, her legs weak and rubbery. She tried to pace away, needing a little space, knowing Steele was that upset with her, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“Don’t walk off.”

“I was just going to stretch my legs a little bit.” Her gaze was on Keys as he unlocked the rolling door and lifted it. They pushed their bikes inside and he closed the door as Savage flipped on a light switch.

The first thing she saw were colors proclaiming the space belonged to a club. A skull grinned eerily through a field of black roses and gun shells. Her heart dropped. Involuntarily, she took a step back, right into Steele. Both arms came up to cage her in. He rested a chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I got upset, Bree. I just don’t like the idea of you with a baby in this hellhole. I saw needles on the sidewalk and something in me just went south. It’s called guilt and it’s on me, not you. I drove you away.”

She leaned back against him, hearing the regret in his voice. “To protect me, Steele, because that’s what you do. And you were right. I didn’t want to hear or admit it, but it was pride that kept me from spending money on a decent place. I wanted to keep hurting so I wouldn’t go looking for you like one of those pathetic women who won’t take no for an answer.”

“You notice that when you came looking, baby, I pounced.”

She turned her head and smiled at him. Even here, in this old warehouse with its smell of drugs and burnt something, he could make her feel wanted. She wrinkled her nose and inhaled again. Alarm skittered through her. “What is this place? It smells like burnt flesh.” She couldn’t help the suspicion. She’d been around the Swords since she was a child. She’d heard rumors about places like this.

“Yeah, Bree, you got it right. This is a place a club would take an enemy to extract information or to make a statement. I need information. They set a couple of Swords members to watch your apartment. I’m going to bring them here and ask them a few questions. We’ll know where Zane is if they know. If not, we’ll know who might be with him. Or if they’ve already sold him.”

Alarm nearly choked her. “Sold him? What do you mean, sold him?” She spun around and clutched at his jacket, her nails nearly meeting her palm right through the material. “You think they sold him?”

He framed her face with his hands. “Take a breath, baby. I don’t want to miss a possibility. Lana will go with you and a couple of guards into the apartment and get the things you want. You’re not ever going back there after this, so this is your last opportunity. We’ve got the truck, so get what you want now.”

“I’m not leaving. I might have a few questions of my own.”

His expression turned hard. “You can’t stay, Breezy, and don’t give me any grief. I’ve got to do this and I want you safe.”

“Well that’s too damn bad. You aren’t Zane’s only parent. And I know Bridges better than you do. I know the right questions to ask.”

“Bree, when we’re on these kinds of runs, we have to know everyone works together. You can’t oppose me over every little thing.”

She didn’t feel as if this was a small thing. “If you’re getting information, Steele, I should be there.”

He shook his head, his eyes merciless steel pits. “No way, baby. I’m going to take them apart to get every bit of intelligence that I can from them. It won’t be pretty, and it won’t be humane, and I don’t personally give a fuck. You will. You think you won’t, but you will. You can’t disconnect, and I’ve been doing that shit since I was seven. You’ll ask me to stop, you’ll beg me to stop, and I won’t. You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

Her stomach lurched, not because he was implying he could take a human being apart but because she saw that he could. He would. He intended to do just that. Steele, no matter what, had always seemed to be a dangerous man, but not a cold-blooded killer. He’d tried to tell her, but she couldn’t conceive of him being that.

“You said you were trained as an assassin. Was this part of your training?” Her voice came out shaky. A whisper. She didn’t want to sound like that because she needed to hear anything the Swords guards could tell her, but this side of Steele scared her.

She didn’t think he would ever hurt her, it wasn’t that. She could see that he was capable of compartmentalizing, shoving all emotion away and acting w

ithout any feelings. Disassociation. Her heart pounded as she looked around the large room. There were tools everywhere, and she could see that several chairs were bolted to the floor.

“Yes, it was part of my training. This isn’t for you, Bree. I don’t ever want you to be part of something like this, even if it’s necessary that I do it. There’s not a need for you to be here.”

“I don’t want to be,” she said. “But what if something he says triggers a memory and I can ask him a question that will lead to Zane.”

She pressed harder on her stomach. Was she really going to be part of this? What was wrong with her? Steele wouldn’t back down or stop because she couldn’t take it—and she knew herself—she would be screaming for him to stop the moment blood started flowing or a Swords guard started screaming.

“You’ll know them, Breezy.” He kissed the side of her neck. “You will have grown up around them.”

“They probably raped me,” she pointed out, trying to steel herself.

She felt his body go taut. His arms tightened around her, and his fingers, locked together at her waist, dug in. It probably hadn’t been the best time to remind him of her childhood.

“It’s not going to happen. You’re leaving with Lana and two of the brothers.”

She closed her eyes, wishing she wasn’t such a coward. It wasn’t right to leave Steele to do the dirty work. Zane was their son. She had a responsibility as well. She had told Steele she would do anything to get him back. He was willing, but . . .

“I hate myself right now, Steele.”

“You’re not the one asking questions, sweetheart. That would be me.”