“Steele would never treat you like trash,” Lana objected. “Nor would he put you second to the club.”
“Really? He did. I was so terrified when he told me to leave and told him so. It didn’t matter to him. He stayed with the club, with Czar, and told me he didn’t want anything to do with me. That I was nothing to him. As for club life, I walked in after one of the famous club parties. It looked and smelled the same to me. He doesn’t need me. He’s got any number of willing women.”
Breezy knew she sounded bitter, but she couldn’t help it. “While he was partying, I was having a child alone and learning how to survive outside a club. I did it, and for the first time, I felt pride. Self-esteem. I’m not going back to that scared little mouse standing frozen in front of him, too terrified to say what I think.”
“Honey,” Lana said, her voice gentle. “You’ve heard me tell my brothers to go to hell. Do you think they hit me? That they would dare hit me? I’d slit their fucking throats if they tried it, not that they ever would. They aren’t like that.”
“Steele just threatened to kill a man, and he meant it, Lana,” Breezy reminded.
“He threatened to kill the man, Bree,” Lana pointed out. “Not you. He would never lay a hand on you. Not like that, no matter how upset he was with you.”
“Bree.” Darby glanced at her mother and then her gaze jumped back to Breezy’s face. “I know you don’t know me very well, but Czar and Blythe always encourage us to say what we think. I’ll admit I’ve never seen Uncle Steele like that, but I did see the way he touched you. So gentle. He wasn’t going to hurt you. When we first came here with Czar and Blythe, we were scared, and every time one of the men moved too fast or sounded scary, we jumped—or froze. The men who took us tried to train us like that, and they only had us for a few days. They had you for years.”
Breezy’s heart nearly stopped beating. She had never considered herself a victim. She was born into the club life. She was a daughter of a high-ranking member. She was a useful club asset. She was a lot of things, but not a victim. What Darby said to her made sense. She’d been trained to be a mouse. To stand still and never voice her opinion. To stay as quiet as possible, to soothe tempers, to anticipate needs, whatever they might be.
To some extent she was still that girl and always would be. She had trained herself to notice details, to observe, so that had translated over to her waitress work in serving her customers. She knew what Zane needed almost before he did. She’d always been good at anticipating Steele’s needs or wants. She hadn’t considered that training; she’d thought it was her nature. Now, having heard Darby and giving it consideration, she knew it was both.
“He’d never hurt you,” Blythe said with complete confidence. “You’re Torpedo Ink whether or not you claim them. You belong. They will surround you with protection. They’ll surround your son with protection. You love Steele. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you love that man. Just give it a chance.”
“I don’t share.” She didn’t care how they all tried to explain things away. No one could explain Steele and the other women.
“Men are idiots,” Alena muttered and slipped off her stool. She picked up the platter of potatoes and went into the dining room.
Blythe handed Breezy two pitchers of fresh-squeezed orange juice and picked up the other two. “My sister grows oranges in a greenhouse, so we’re very lucky. Player and Transporter did the honors this morning.”
“They squeezed all the oranges to get the juice?” Breezy was shocked.
“We do have a little machine,” Blythe clarified. “Although if you ask, I’m certain they’ll act like they did it by hand.”
She went out with Lana following behind, carrying the platter of French toast. Breezy stood there for a moment staring at the archway between the kitchen and dining room. She felt like that mouse all over again.
Darby reached out and touched her arm. “They’re all here to figure out how to get Zane back. Think about that. Just keep it in your head that they’re here to help. I told myself that thousands of times and it sank in. Now, for the first time, I think it’s sinking in for Zoe.”
Breezy nodded her head, took a deep breath and followed Darby into the dining room.
SEVEN
Breezy forced her body to work when it wanted to do its frozen-in-place thing. The only chair open at the table was next to Steele. The men were heaping food onto their plates and pretending to stab at the bacon and pancakes on Zoe’s plate. Kenny sat beside Darby. He’d clearly put food on Darby’s plate, afraid the others would eat everything before she even arrived. The plate beside Steele’s also had food on it, evidence that he was looking out for Breezy in spite of their argument.
She placed the pitchers of juice apart on the lower end of the table because Blythe had put her two pitchers on the upper end. The table went from one end to the other of the dining room and had clearly been custom-made. It was beautiful. She couldn’t help admiring the woodwork.
Steele held her chair for her as she slipped into it. She didn’t look at him but at the amount of food on her plate. There was no way she could eat it all, not with her stomach churning the way it was. She couldn’t stop the fine tremors running through her body, over and over. Steele noticed because he always noticed everything about those around him and her in particular.
He leaned into her. “This is good, baby. Just eat, and when the kids go to school, we’ll hash this out. We’ll ride out tomorrow morning before dawn, starting for Louisiana. Code will continue to feed us information so by the time we get there, we’ll know where we’re going. This morning is mainly for him to get as much information as possible.” He picked up her fork and held it out to her.
She took it because she didn’t want to make a scene. The others were talking and laughing together, like one big family, but she knew they were all very aware of her. She didn’t want to give them any reason for turning the spotlight on her. Besides, she wanted to observe them together. The atmosphere was very different from that of any function with the Swords.
“Do you want some of Blythe’s weird pink salt?” Maestro asked and held out a salt shaker. The salt really was pink.
She took it, looking at it suspiciously. “What is
this really?”
Steele nudged her with his shoulder. “Blythe lies and tells us it’s salt, but I don’t think it is. Kenny usually has a contraband salt shaker if you want to try to get it from him, but if you’re caught, Blythe gives you her stern look. It’s pretty cute, but only Czar gets away with saying that to her because she thinks that scowl makes her look badass.” He didn’t bother to lower his voice, although he pretended to.
Blythe was quite a distance down the table from them, but she glared at Steele. “I heard that. I don’t look cute when I’m giving you my meanest look.”
Czar hooked his arm around her neck, brought her in close and took her mouth. Breezy nearly dropped her fork. The kiss wasn’t a little peck. It was intimate and hot, and she considered fanning herself. She should have looked away, but she couldn’t. When Czar let her up, Blythe was pinker than the salt.
“I love that look,” Czar said. “Gives me a hard-on, baby. Every single time. And yeah, it’s cute as hell when you get all badass on us.”
Blythe shook her head, but she was smiling. “It’s salt, Bree. It’s just natural, not processed, and so much better for you. It has all the minerals in it as well. And Kenny, if you have processed salt anywhere on your person or hidden in your clothing . . .” She broke off. “I saw that handoff to Ice.” She snapped her fingers and held out her hand. “I’ll put that with the other two hundred salt shakers I’ve confiscated from the three of you.”
“I wasn’t in on that,” Storm protested, trying to look innocent.
In spite of everything, Breezy found herself laughing with the others. They seemed more like one huge family, the way they interacted. She didn’t know that much about real families—hers had been more than dysfunctional—but each of the club members was so in tune with the others, it was almost as if they knew exactly what the others would say and do before they did it.
Steele was a part of that. He’d always been a part of that, even when he rode with the Swords. These people had ridden with him. His brothers and sisters. Breezy looked around the table as the teasing continued. This was Steele’s family. He belonged. She could understand why he’d chosen them over her. She didn’t know how to be like them. She didn’t fit in because she had no idea how to act.