Vengeance Road (Torpedo Ink 2) - Page 7

He leaned close. Took the spoon from her hand and set it on the table. “Look at me, Breezy.”

It was a command, nothing less, triggering her heart into overdrive. She couldn’t help but lift her apprehensive gaze to his.

“Zane is my son. Mine. You aren’t going to dictate to me what I can and can’t do with him. You aren’t going to live somewhere I can’t protect the two of you. We’re going to talk things out and we’re going to do what’s right for our boy.”

The quiet in his voice alarmed her more than anything. She knew they called him Steele for a variety of reasons. Road names were given for anything from funny incidents to very serious ones. Some of the brothers had called him unbending. Once he made up his mind, no one ever got in his way because he’d just go right through them.

“You’re not taking him from me.”

“Did I say I was taking him from you? Did I ever indicate that? You’re a pair, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re both mine.”

She pushed away from the table fast, surging to her feet at the same time, knocking the chair over backward. “You’re out of your mind if you think that. Completely out of your mind.”

He didn’t even get up. He reached out, hooked the chair, pulled it upright and pointed back to the seat.

She glared at him, but the smell of the soup was too good, and it had been a long time since her last really nourishing meal. She sat back down and picked up the spoon. “You don’t get to dictate to me anymore, Steele. I’m not that girl, the one worshiping you and thinking you walked on water.”

“I’m very aware I lost that.”

“I don’t even know you. You were lying to me. To everyone, remember? So, no, I’m not yours. Zane, I’ll concede, is, and you have a right to visit him . . .”

“It won’t work that way. You know me, Bree. You know me. I might have misled things to the club, but I gave you the real man. I don’t back away from a fight, and I win.”

She felt herself go pale. Dizzy. So light-headed for a moment she thought she might pass out. “You’re threatening to take him away from me.” Her voice was a whisper of fear.

“No, baby”—he leaned close again—“I’m threatening to lock you in a house with our son until you come to your senses. I told you, he isn’t going to be raised with one parent.”

“And I told you, he isn’t going to be raised in a club.”

“We’ll see. Eat your soup and then I’ll show you to your room, so you can get some sleep.”

“I slept all day.”

“You dozed on and off all day waiting for dark, so you could carry out your harebrained scheme. Don’t remind me. It will just piss me off.”

She was tired, and she wasn’t going to argue with him for argument’s sake. He could posture all he wanted; it didn’t mean he would get his way. She finished the soup and then stood up, taking the bottle of water with her.

Breezy followed Steele down a long hallway. He pointed out a bathroom as they passed a door and stopped at the room just beyond it. He shoved the door open and stepped back to allow her inside. She knew instantly it was his room because his scent was everywhere. Steele always smelled masculine but very clean, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. That was unlike most of the Swords members, and she had spent a great deal of time inhaling Steele and taking him deep into her lungs.

“I’m not staying with you,” she informed him, putting on her stubborn expression. She couldn’t stay there, breathing him in. Surrounded by him. God help her if he decided to stay in the room with her or get in the bed. It didn’t matter that he’d thrown her out and made her feel as if she were nothing; he was still Steele, the love of her life, the man she dreamt of. Fixated on. Obsessed over. She didn’t want him, or anything to do with him, but her body didn’t seem to know that.

“I’m through arguing with you. You’re staying here and I’m examining you, so get on the bed before I just tie you to it.” When she didn’t move, he stepped inside, slammed the door and pointed to the bed. “You know I’ll fucking do it, so stop stalling. I’ve had just about enough for one night. Learning I have a son and the woman who is my old lady didn’t even bother to tell me was enough of a shock for one day.”

“I’m not your old lady. You were very clear on that, Steele. Don’t you dare turn this around and act innocent. I wasn’t about to go near the club once I left and you were riding with it, remember? As I recall, you had me banned from the Swords. You pretended your loyalties were with the Swords, just like you pretended your loyalties were with me.”

“There’s an explanation.”

“Of course there is, but you know what? I don’t want to hear it. I just want my son back. Just get him back. That’s all that matters. That’s all that should matter to you.”

“We’re going around and around about things we aren’t going to settle right now. Get on the bed, let me take a look at you and then you can take a shower or a bath and sleep. The club has a few things to take off the table, so we can turn our full attention to getting Zane back. You can sleep in here while I’m doing that.”

Breezy hesitated. She hadn’t been able to take a bath since she’d left the club. Her tiny apartment had a little shower stall, just big enough for her to get into. She doubted most men could have showered without turning sideways and stooping. Certainly, Steele couldn’t. She knew the exact width of his shoulders, and there was no way he could get into that little stall.

She wasn’t going to argue with him anymore. What was the point? She was going to lose, and every minute she spent arguing was more time in his company. She sank onto the mattress, and of course it was far nicer than any she’d ever slept on in her life. Tearing off her boots, she resisted throwing them at him.

“Do you have things at your place you need me to get for you?”

God. His voice. He could turn her inside out with that voice. “A few things matter to me, but not at the risk of your life. I’d prefer you get Zane for me.”

“Make a list and write down the address of your apartment.”

She nodded and started to lie down.

“I’ll need your jeans off, Bree. I have to look at your thigh, and I have to examine your ribs, so lose the tank as well.”

She lowered her lashes, her sex clenching hard. She didn’t have the same figure she’d had when she’d left. Her breasts were larger, and her hips fuller. She hadn’t had a lot to eat during her pregnancy, so she hadn’t gained a lot of weight, but she still had a couple of small stretch marks. She told herself she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to impress him.

Refusing to look at him, she peeled off her jeans and tank and then draped them over a chair. It wasn’t like she was wearing a really pretty bra and panties. They didn’t even match. She bought the cheapest cotton bikinis she could find and the cheapest bras that were functional. Stretching out on the bed, she looked anywhere but at him.

The room was larger than she’d expected and far nicer than the flop rooms for the Swords members to sleep in. He sat on the edge of the bed, and instantly she felt caged in.

“Damn it, Breezy. You’re covered in bruises.” There was genuine distress in his voice.

She closed her eyes at the brush of his fingers. She’d forgotten how gentle he could be. That whisper of a touch on her bare skin. The moment he did that, every nerve ending sprang to life. She hadn’t wanted a man since she’d left him. She hadn’t thought of wanting a man. She’d avoided them like the plague, first because she’d been pregnant, then because she’d been a single, harassed mother and then because men were disgusting creatures and she’d wanted no part of them. Lastly, and maybe most importantly, if she was honest, it had been because they weren’t Steele.

Those fingers whispered along her ribs, so gently she thought she might cry.

“Hurts here?”

He was bent over her, his hair fall

ing toward her bare belly while his hands slid over her ribs. A healer’s hands. A lover’s hands. He’d been both before he destroyed her.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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