Page 16 of Steel

“On occasion.”

I’ve quit so many times over the past five years, I stopped counting. And even if it’s been a few weeks, tonight has me reaching for all my bad habits again.

“Want one?” I hold the pack out, and she scowls in disgust. “Guess that’s a no. Walk with me.”

She wraps her arms around her stomach and follows me out of the room. If I were smart, I’d keep her locked in there so she doesn’t get any ideas about running, but the space is too small with her in it. I can’t fucking breathe.

She follows me back to the main part of the clubhouse. The party is still raging in the background, and only my men know what’s really going on. I could have shut it down, but it’s better to pretend things are normal. The last thing I need is rumors spreading.

“Drink, Prez?” One of the prospects yells from the bar when he sees me pass.

I shake my head. “Maybe later.”

Another prospect looks Tempe up and down, but when my eyes meet his, he backs the fuck off.

She follows me outside, and it’s quieter out here.

Mayhem is fucking a patch bunny on the porch, so I lead Tempe away. Her wide eyes and rosy cheeks tell me she didn’t miss it, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What are we doing?” she asks when I finally stop at the end of the long driveway.

I light my cigarette and hold in a deep inhale. It burns my lungs and gives me everything I need right now. A nicotine buzz. Clarity.

“My guys will be back with your brother any minute.” I take another drag. “We’re waiting for ’em.”

“Then what?” She clutches her arms around her stomach as she shivers.

It’s not that cold, but she’s probably coming down from the adrenaline.

“You have a lot of questions for a girl who broke into my club trying to steal something.” I flick my cigarette, watching the embers scurry off into the dark desert.

“And you have very few answers for a man wearing a patch that says you should have a lot more.”

She glares at me, and I can’t help smirking at her irritation.

At least the conversation is cut short by headlights in the distance.

Soul must have stayed back at Tempe’s house with the prospects because it’s just Havoc in the truck, rolling to a stop and hopping out. He circles the front, and when he pops open the passenger-side door, little feet jump to the ground.

I’m not good with kids—especially little ones. And I don’t know what to make of the fact that Tempe’s brother is wearing a superhero cape in the middle of the night as he walks at Havoc’s side. But he keeps his gaze on the ground and refuses to make eye contact.

“Austin.” Tempe’s voice cracks.

She runs over to him, dropping to her knees and comforting him in her arms. He buries his face in the crook of her neck as she whispers something. All I can make out are the sobs. Quiet, painful. They cut deeper than Chaos’s best knife.

I’ve seen death.

I’ve taken more lives than the number of years I’ve lived.

But something itches under my skin at the sight of Tempe with her brother.

Havoc walks past them, stopping beside me. “What’s the plan, Prez? Want me to set them up in Tommy’s old room?”

It’s not a bad idea. The room’s empty and at the end of the hall. I could have a prospect guard the door and lockthem inside until I figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. But it doesn’t seem like enough. Nothing does.

“It’s fine,” I tell him. “They can stay in mine.”

Havoc’s eyebrows pinch at my decision, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

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