“Our window is closing,” Steele reminded, more than happy to get off a subject that wasn’t going to end anytime soon. “The moment the door was closed, Lizard was texting Bridges that she was here. He’ll want credit for his plan and he’ll start trying to persuade Bridges that they need Breezy back in the fold. He’ll be very uneasy when he doesn’t get an answer, and he’ll text the others.”
“I’ve got this,” Savage said.
Steele detested that Savage would be the one to go. The more he killed, the more he edged away from all of them. Even Czar and Reaper were worried.
“Prefer you to guard Steele and his family while Keys and I take care of it,” Maestro said. “It will go faster with us sweeping the room, making certain there are no cameras or recordings of Breezy. No DNA on anything. She didn’t touch anything that we saw, and she didn’t sit on the bed, but it’s best to be safe.”
Savage shrugged. “I can do that.”
Steele cut him off, making the decision. “Let’s put a two-man team on the motel. Get it done fast. Transporter, get the truck ready. As soon as Breezy is here, I want out. We need to distance ourselves from this place. Everyone was careful, but we still need to wipe it down. That means I’ll be leaving with a skeleton crew at first. Savage, you’ll be with us.”
Savage didn’t argue. Steele was grateful for whatever concessions he could get. He nodded toward them as Lana came into the room with Breezy. They’d broken into the building across from the motel and used the upstairs business for their point of operation. They wanted to make certain no one ever knew they were there or even suspected it.
He went right to his woman, wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her. She tasted good. Sweet with a hint of spice, as if at any moment she could flare into heat and sin. He let himself get lost in her for a few minutes because he needed it. They had his son safe, although they needed to put distance between them and Louisiana. He’d been holding it together, worried about his child and woman, and that, at least was over. They were in his custody and the care of the club.
The bikes would filter out, only a couple accompanying the truck. They needed to get out of Swords territory as quickly as possible. Transporter would switch driving with him so they could make better time.
“You’ve got about three minutes. Ink’s putting Zane in the car seat and then we’re out of here.”
Her gaze searched his face, but he gave her a little push toward the bathroom. “Don’t touch anything if you can help it. We can’t leave anything behind ever.” He looked at Lana.
She nodded her understanding and followed Breezy right into the room. He heard Breezy’s protest, but Lana didn’t come back out. Everyone moved quickly. No one wanted to fill his woman in on what was necessary for her safety. She was quick, picking up on small nuances, and they all knew it. She’d trained herself from the time she was very young to get a feel for anything that might be wrong in the club, so she could fix the problem. None of them wanted that. The faster he took her out of there and had her head occupied with other things, the better it was going to be for all of them.
The moment Breezy was out of the restroom, he caught her hand and started out of the room. “Wipe it down and make certain there’s no evidence of a break-in,” he called over his shoulder, more for show than anything else.
Maestro and Keys waited along with Lana and Preacher until Breezy and Steele were nearly at the bottom of the staircase. “We’ll catch up soon,” Maestro assured.
Steele gave them the thumbs-up and opened the door that led to the street. He was cautious about it, checking for anyone that might be walking around the neighborhood. He timed it so no cars were coming. There were cameras at the motel and two on the building they were using, but none of them worked.
Transporter had the truck at the curb directly in front of the seedy little structure that housed two businesses. He’d left the keys in the ignition and had already faded into the shadows, moving around to the back where their bikes were parked in an alleyway where Fatei stood watch over them.
Breezy went straight to the back door of the cab and pulled it open to look at her son. Steele caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the passenger seat. “He’s asleep, baby, let him sleep.”
“I like to look at him,” she protested.
“You’ll have plenty of time to look at him on the drive home.” He rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. His bike was already up on the tracks in the back, tied down. He had the truck in motion and was pulling out into traffic before Breezy could say another word. He wanted to be long gone from the state by the time the sun was up.
Breezy swiveled around in her seat to stare at their son. “He’s so beautiful.”
“Put your fuckin’ seat belt on, baby. He’s not going to want anything happening to his mother at this late date. He just got you back.”
She turned slowly, her eyes on his face as she pulled the seat belt around her and snapped it in place. “Honey . . .”
“Don’t. We’re not talking about it right now. You were thinking of giving yourself up to them. I heard it in your voice.” He’d sworn he wouldn’t say a word until he had her in their home. Safe. Where he could hold her in his arms and make it very, very clear she wasn’t ever to go down that path of thinking again.
“For a second. Just for one second.”
She didn’t bother to deny it, which was a good thing because Steele found he wasn’t in the least bit under control—not when it came to the subject of his woman putting her life on the line for him and their child. That was his job, and he didn’t give a damn if the world called him a fucking male chauvinist. He didn’t know what that even was. A man who wanted to watch out for his family? A man who respected his woman enough and loved her enough to keep her safe? What the fuck did that even mean? He wasn’t even certain he wanted to ask Blythe that question, mainly because he was terrified. He wasn’t afraid of anything . . . but Breezy terrified him with her courage.
“I said we weren’t talking about it.”
Breezy turned her face away from him and looked out the window. “This relationship thing is much harder than it looks, isn’t it?”
He had to agree with that. Blythe and Czar made it look easy. Reaper didn’t, but then Reaper was like a wrecking ball. He was just lucky Anya loved him enough to overlook all his craziness. Steele definitely didn’t think it was crazy to be upset because Breezy had nearly blown it after they’d finally gotten their child back.
“Do you think I would have left you with them if you’d confessed?” He couldn’t stop the demand, it hissed out like a coiled snake, one angry and rattling a warning.
Her gaze came back to him. “I wasn’t thinking in that one second, Steele.”
“I wouldn’t. The answer is no, I would never have left you there. I would charge hell with a bucket of water to get you b
ack. I’d fuckin’ search hell for you, Breezy. Don’t ever think you can exchange your life for mine, because it isn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it happen.”
He took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at her, letting her know he expected a response. She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip, a little show of nerves he recognized from long ago.
“I know you wouldn’t ever allow it. I do. I’m sorry, Steele, but sometimes I can’t help what comes into my mind. I hate that they have a direct tie to you through me. That’s all. I dismissed the idea immediately as ludicrous.”
The pressure on his chest eased. He rubbed his palm over his heart. “We’re going to straighten a few things out when we get home, woman. You get me?”
She nodded. “Yes. Of course. I really wouldn’t have done it, Steele.”
“I’m going to need fucking therapy if you keep this bullshit up, Breezy,” he muttered.
She burst out laughing. “Therapy?”
“Yeah. Therapy. Haven’t you ever heard of therapy?”
“Not coming out of your mouth. What kind of therapy?”
He started to tell her but decided to think that over. A smart man might see a few advantages in that question. “Let me think on that for a while.”
Breezy laughed and the sound went through him the way it often did, lighting his world. She sounded bright and happy and she shed that light on him. She took him right out of the violence, the blood and death and vile world he lived in, to draw him into the sunshine with her.
He glanced in the rearview mirror so he could see their son. In the side mirror he caught a glimpse of Savage and Transporter as they rode the highway with him. In the back of the truck was his bike. His colors were tatted on his back, so even if he left his jacket home, he was complete. He had his club and his family. He was going to enjoy every single long mile going home.