Torpedo Ink hadn’t celebrated birthdays. Most didn’t know when they were born, not months or days anyway. Czar had started to keep track of ages when new children were brought to the school, but so many died, and after a while he’d stopped. Time passed slowly in that prison they’d been raised in, and there weren’t dates. Or birthdays. There was only survival.
“Does she have any idea where to even start looking?” Maestro asked. He had dark hair streaked with silver, which matched the beard he wore. His eyes were intense, a light gray like liquid mercury or silver, and when he focused on anyone, there was no doubt they were looking at death. Strangely, at odds with his appearance, he was a gentle man, but that had never stopped him from defending his brothers and sisters when necessary.
“If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have tried to strike out on her own,” Player pointed out.
“That’s true,” Ink said, looking to Steele. “Did you ask her where she was going?”
“I haven’t had much opportunity,” Steele said. “I think we need to bring her in on our meeting about this, but she needs sleep. She looked exhausted.” She had dark circles under her eyes and it was clear, from the way she’d reacted to Alena’s soup, that she hadn’t eaten in a while either. “Bridges hurt her. You should see her body. Bruises everywhere.”
Those around the table exchanged long looks with one another. Steele was a healer, a very gifted surgeon, but he was also a stone-cold killer when he needed—or wanted—to be. No one ever crossed him, unless it was Czar. Not ever. Steele could take a man apart without working up a sweat. Bridges was not going to like what Steele would do to him, and there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that Steele was going after Bridges and making the fight personal.
“We don’t have even an inkling what state they’re in right now?” Keys asked.
“We have to figure Louisiana,” Czar said. “Half the chapter was left behind. Habit only brought some of us. Bridges and his son were pissed they didn’t get to go. I kept track of what was going on back there, just to be safe, and Bridges became the chapter president, not that he had much of a chapter left to run. We shut down their trafficking ring, closed off every pipeline they had and gave the cops so much evidence on every chapter they’re still indicting members across every state.”
Code nodded. “There are warrants out on just about every member, especially the Louisiana chapter.”
“Bridges is a vindictive man,” Reaper said. “A straight-up coward and bully, but vindictive as hell. He thinks we were the ones to bring down Habit and Evan.”
“He might think that, but he can’t know we took their money or provided evidence to the cops,” Code said. “That’s impossible to trace.” There was satisfaction in his voice.
“He is vindictive,” Steele agreed. He knew him better than any of the others, and he detested the man. “He’ll bring that chapter down even further than it has already fallen, and he’ll do it for his own gain. At least Habit had loyalty to his brothers and he understood what that is. Bridges only thinks of himself. He knew we had an aversion to those using young girls. I’ll bet any amount of money he kept Breezy’s age back on purpose.”
“You would have taken her anyway,” Czar said. He massaged the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension any conversation having to do with the Swords always put there. “You would have had no choice whether you wanted her or not. Any of us would have claimed her the moment we knew her real age.”
That was true, but for Steele there hadn’t been any choice at all. He would have protected Breezy with his life. Had Torpedo Ink not been on a vital mission, he would have killed Bridges and taken her out of there long before her father offered her to him. As it was, he felt guilt that he’d waited so long. They’d been so careful not to blow it, all of them despising the club they had to ride with but making certain not to show it.
“Code, can you find out who his close friends are? I don’t recall anyone in particular other than his son. Look into his money. Make it difficult for him. Wipe out his account. He’ll have a secret one, money he stashes away, probably club money he’s taken and no one knows about,” Steele said.
“Will do,” Code said.
“If we take his money, it will make it harder for him to move all the time. Look into his past women as well. He didn’t have an old lady. Not even Braden’s or Breezy’s mothers. No one knows what happened to them, but he would definitely have no problem taking over a woman’s home if he knows any of them.”
“Grandparents? His mother and father?” Maestro said. “I never heard him talk about them, but if they’re alive, he might go to them.”
“I’ll look into that as well,” Code said.
“As soon as I can get information from Breezy, I’ll give you any names she might know,” Steele promised. “I’ve never seen her so scared.”
“I like the name Zane. Where did she come up with that one?” Alena asked.
Steele shook his head. “She talked about names once. I wasn’t into having kids. I don’t know the first thing about them, so I didn’t participate in the conversation. She mentioned several names and I just ignored her.” It had been right before she left. Right before he’d told her he didn’t want her around.
They’d never talked about love. She’d said it to him once, and he hadn’t responded. He didn’t know how to respond. She’d never repeated the sentiment. He’d been gruff when she brought up having a family. He’d told her he didn’t want children and he’d cut off all conversation, including the choosing of names. Zane was Breezy’s choice.
“Did she know she was pregnant when she left?” Lana asked.
“It’s possible. Even probable,” Steele admitted, which made the things he’d said even worse. “I made such an ass out of myself. I should have been more careful in the things I said. I was so busy shoving her away, I didn’t think about how she was going to feel. I wanted her gone. Away from me. I’m too damned old for her. Away from her father and brother. Away from the war I knew was coming.”
“Stop beating yourself up,” Czar said. “You’re always the voice of reason. You’re the one who says we can’t change the past so let it go and figure out a way to undo the damage.”
That was easier said than done. Steele believed there was no changing the past and that one just learned from it and moved on, but now that it was his royal screwup, it wasn’t so easy. He glanced at Reaper. Their enforcer had managed more than once to put his relationship with Anya in jeopardy. Steele cringed a little trying to remember what advice he might have given.
He just nodded because the others seemed to be waiting for something. “We have to assume Bridges has some woman taking care of Zane. No way is he changing diapers or taking him to the toilet. He wouldn’t feed him or get him to bed at night. Neither would Junk.”
“How old would he be?” Player asked.
“Around two and a half. Just shy of that,” Steele answered, and his heart contracted.
“I’ll get looking for the women in his life,” Code assured him. “Has Breezy ever mentioned her grandparents on either side to you, Steele? Names? Where they might live?”
Steele wanted to kick himself. He’d never even asked. Had he asked her any personal questions? She certainly hadn’t volunteered any information about herself. Damn it, why hadn’t he asked? Because he didn’t think in terms of extended family. None of them did. There was so much to learn about relationships.
He shook his head. “Sorry, Code, no clue.”
Code shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Steele knew not having any information made it all the more difficult for his brother to track down Bridges’s parents. Steele had been happy with Breezy, mostly because she was there to do every little thing for him. Give him everything he wanted. He’d never had that. He’d never once in his life, that he could remember, had anyone see to his every need. He’d selfishly been happy with
that arrangement.