Steele stood next, his fingers an iron band around her upper arm, so that she rose as well. “We’re riding out at three this morning. Dress warm. We’re traveling fast. You’ll need weapons but prepare for a search. We’ll be riding through Diamondback territory and into Swords territory so no colors.”
Breezy had never heard the authority in his voice like that. He’d certainly told her what to do on occasion, but she realized that power came naturally to him. He wore it easily on his shoulders, so much so that she should have caught it, but they all deferred to Czar. They’d played up his role as the badass when they’d ridden for the Swords. He’d been the one the Swords club members feared, and that had prevented them from really seeing the others. What did Reaper mean about Steele when he said he was the one to watch, not Savage? She was very confused by the changes in all of the Torpedo Ink members.
Steele pulled her under his shoulder, his arm locking her front to his side, and took her with him right out the door, not even giving her a chance to say good-bye to Blythe or Anya.
Breezy knew she should pull away from Steele and stand on her own two feet. He wasn’t the kind of man one could give a few inches to, he’d take the mile every time, but she was trying to puzzle out how she had missed the way he carried himself with such complete confidence.
“Are you really a doctor?”
He glanced down at her but didn’t slow down on the way to his Harley. Behind them, Maestro and Keys kept pace. She didn’t hear a sound, not even the whisper of their motorcycle boots. The only way she knew they were there was the glimpse of them she caught when she looked back.
“Yes. A surgeon actually, but I had advanced training in several fields. I don’t practice here for anyone other than the club. Code makes certain I have up-to-date licenses, so if I had to perform surgery on one of them, it would be legal. We’re putting together a little clinic with the latest equipment, so Blythe can bring the kids.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. It was one more reason why she didn’t belong with Steele. He was intelligent. Really gifted. Off the charts. That, she’d always known. One couldn’t be with him for even a brief time without realizing just how intelligent he really was. She had common sense, but she wasn’t book smart. She’d never had that chance. Bridges had pulled her out of nearly every school she’d ever attended. She’d been lucky to have Delia help her figure out how to do the adult classes to get her GED.
Steele slipped onto his bike, backed it out and waited for her to tuck her hair into the helmet and climb on behind him. She surrounded him with her arms, locking her hands at his waist. The moment she did, she felt the same rush that had happened earlier, adrenaline moving through her veins like a drug. Motorcycle. Steele. Freedom. In her life, on the back of Steele’s motorcycle was the only time she’d ever experienced the feeling of freedom. She’d loved it. She tried not to love it now, but when the pipes roared and the machine vibrated, coming to life, and they were in the wind, the exhilaration was instantaneous.
She pressed her body tightly against his and let the wind take away everything the way it had always done. They were leaving in the early morning hours to go find Zane. She couldn’t do a thing about it until then. They had a plan. She wasn’t alone, and she had a much better chance at getting her son back than she’d had before. There was something about Torpedo Ink that inspired confidence, and for the first time since Zane was taken, she really believed she would get him back. Because of them. Torpedo Ink.
The moment Steele, Breezy and the bike moved together, she felt whole. She knew, because she’d had multiple talks with Delia, that needing someone wasn’t healthy. Wanting them in one’s life was okay, but she said Breezy needed to stand on her own two feet. She’d done that until her father had kidnapped Zane, but she’d never felt whole. It was as if a huge piece of her was missing. Riding with Steele completed her.
Maybe it was because she was as screwed up as he was. She was a victim of abuse and knew no other life. Steele was the same way. He was complete by being in Torpedo Ink, and she was certain he would always need them. It was just possible she would always need Steele.
He didn’t turn back down the road leading to the compound but took them up to the highway. She didn’t ask. She didn’t even care. She wanted to ride. They had a lot of hours to kill before they started out, and she just wanted to ride for a while to stop feeling so afraid for her son and to breathe again.
She knew Steele had already mapped out the shortest route from Caspar to New Orleans. He planned to go right through New Mexico and stop by her apartment to pick up the items on her list—mainly the earlier pictures of Zane. She had told him, during the meeting, that she could live without the photographs if they all believed someone was watching her apartment, but Steele had insisted he couldn’t live without them.
The members of Torpedo Ink had exchanged looks, ones she couldn’t read. At the time it had felt significant; now she just didn’t care. She would when they were in New Mexico, but going down the highway, she let the roar of the pipes and the wind carry away every problem.
She blanked her mind against the images of Zane with Bridges or Junk. She had to believe he was in the hands of a woman who cared enough to try to protect a toddler. She refused to think about the pain and humiliation of Steele throwing her out or discovering him with other women. She simply allowed herself to enjoy every second on the motorcycle.
He took them to the little village overlooking the ocean. Sea Haven extended from the highway to the headlands, spreading out with numerous cute little shops and historical homes. Old water towers rose into the air, making the town feel quaint and authentic.
He parked the bike in front of the local market. Maestro and Keys parked right beside them and took a careful look around. She saw their gazes sweep the buildings and rooftops, the cars and street. Steele took her hand once she removed the helmet, and she didn’t fight that either. She wasn’t going to allow anything to ruin the joy she got from riding.
If she wasn’t lying to herself, she had always been proud walking with him like that. Close. Hand in hand. Steele liked to touch her. When he’d been with her, he’d almost always been touching her. She’d liked that. It had made her feel cared for. Now, she knew, that was just part of who he was. It had nothing to do with her. She hoped he’d always be that way with Zane and that it would give her son that same feeling of being cherished as it had her. She wanted that for their child, especially if Steele insisted on being in his life permanently.
“Inez,” Steele greeted as they entered the grocery store.
The older woman behind the counter broke into a smile. “Steele, Maestro, Keys, good to see you.”
Her gaze went to Breezy and then dropped to their linked hands. Immediately, for reasons she was uncertain of, Breezy tried to let go of Steele. It was impossible with his fingers wrapped around hers. He had a large hand, and it completely enveloped hers.
“Inez, I’d like you to meet my woman. This is Bree Simmons. Baby, this is Inez Nelson and Frank Warner.” He indicated the man seated behind the counter with the older woman.
Inez beamed before Breezy could put in a quick disclaimer to the fact that she was not Steele’s woman. Truthfully, she didn’t have that kind of courage. One kept club business, especially personal club business, in the club. That had been drilled into her from the time she was a toddler, just as it was being drilled into Zoe, Emily and Darby.
“Nice to meet you, Bree,” Inez said.
“Have you thought any more about our proposition?” Steele asked.
Inez nodded. “It’s a good one. We took it to our silent partner and he agreed it was a very good plan, but he can’t be a part of it. Still, even without him, Frank and I are very interested. When would be a good time for us to drop by and talk things over with you and Czar?”
Breezy let the conversation flow around her while she watched others in th
e store. Clearly the sight of three very rough-looking Torpedo Ink members wearing their colors didn’t strike fear into anyone’s heart. More, several greeted them. She noticed the women looking more than once.
Her heart clenched, and she looked down to the floor, an old habit she couldn’t quite break. The moment she did, Steele transferred his hold from her hand to around her waist, his arm a bar, locking her to him. It was a claiming hold. She remembered how he’d done that when they were together. He’d always made her feel so safe and secure. He’d made her feel his.
“We’ve got a few things going on right now, but Czar will be in touch in a few days,” Steele reassured Inez. He flashed a small smile and urged Breezy down one of the aisles, snagging a basket as he passed it. Maestro and Keys trailed behind them.
Breezy had no idea what was going on so she remained silent as Steele filled up his basket and the two baskets the other members of Torpedo Ink had with all sorts of food. She recognized that most were her favorites. She tried very hard not to be thrilled that Steele remembered what she liked. He would. Steele didn’t forget things.
She just couldn’t let herself buy into anything Steele was saying to her. She had before, and she’d gotten her heart broken. This time, she had to look out for Zane. There was no risking herself twice and coming out of it healthy and whole. She forced herself to remember the women Steele had partied with. She closed her eyes and conjured them up. Not one looked anything like her. He couldn’t even say they were a substitute for her.
“Stop.”
The whispered command came straight into her ear. She felt his breath exploding in a warm, exasperated puff.