“They weren’t human beings, Steele. They looked human, but they were the monsters. You destroyed them because they had to be obliterated before they hurt others.”
That made some sense. He shivered over and over, unable to stop. He couldn’t go back and face the others. He couldn’t tell Absinthe what had happened. How Demyan had died. What they’d done to him. He just couldn’t face that. But he had to. He had to go back to the others and tell them. Tell Absinthe that he let his brother out of his sight and they killed him.
He found out that Sorbacov’s deal with Merhi included allowing him to kill one of them. Sorbacov wanted Steele alive because he was a doctor and could get into more places than Demyan. In spite of his wounds, the terrible toll on his body, Czar and Reaper had to hold Steele back from killing Sorbacov. He told Sorbacov what he’d done, how he’d killed Merhi and the others, and how he hadn’t felt a thing when he’d done it.
He told Sorbacov that he’d won, he’d finally created the monster he wanted, and if he killed Absinthe, he would tear him apart, piece by piece. His brothers and sisters, Torpedo Ink, had stood with him, guns on them, ready to die, and they backed him, echoing what he’d told Sorbacov. He gave Absinthe back to them. As always, whomever he’d had was in bad shape, but he was alive.
The others wanted to help him recover. His body was a mess. His mind was worse. He couldn’t escape the image of Demyan suffering, dying right in front of him.
He should have been there with Demyan. They’d always kept eyes on one another. Always. It was Czar’s rule. Their rule. Their code. Their promise to one another. It was how they survived. But he hadn’t. He’d taken his eyes off Demyan and he’d died in the worst possible way.
“No one would blame you.”
“I took my eyes off him. We always have eyes on one another. That’s the code. That’s how we stay safe. Especially when there’s sex involved. We watch one another’s backs. I let him down. I didn’t see what they were doing to him.” He repeated the rules over and over because if he’d just followed them, there would be eighteen branches on their tree, not seventeen.
“Honey, you’re not thinking clearly about this.”
That voice, so like the touch of her fingers. He was with her now, ashamed that he’d told her everything while he was reliving it. He had no idea what he’d said or hadn’t said. He looked at her over his shoulder, drinking her in, seeing the tears running down her face, or maybe they were running down his and he couldn’t see clearly. Maybe it was both.
Breezy was such a compassionate woman, she would never be able to sleep after this. He’d been selfish telling her. He’d been afraid to have her know. Ashamed. He should have known better. She was all about empathy. He hadn’t slept in years—not since he’d lost Demyan. Now she would have trouble as well.
“Babe, you always get me to sleep.”
He’d said that aloud too. He forced himself to press his lips together, to keep from blurting anything else out. He blinked, trying to clear the misty veil between them. To his shock, it lifted, which meant it hadn’t been the fog. She was definitely crying. Breezy. His woman. He’d told her his worst nightmare. The moment his life had changed. The birth of his monster. She was still looking at him as if the sun rose and set with him.
“I’m sorry, Bree.” He looked down at his hands. “You can see I’m always going to be a fucked-up mess. Always. It isn’t going to go away because I talk to someone. And I wouldn’t. There’s no counselor for men like me. There’s no fixing me. You’ll be living with that the rest of your life. Me holding too tight. Eyes on you all the time. Eyes on the kids.”
It was true, and she had to know it. His kind of trauma didn’t just go away. He felt like he’d run a marathon, his body hurting physically. “This thing isn’t going away, baby. Not ever. I wish I could tell you it will.”
Breezy touched her tear-damp face, looked down at her wet fingers and shook her head. “I’m such a crier. You’ll have to get used to that about me. I think, as time goes by, you’ll relax a little bit, Steele.”
She wasn’t a crier. Breezy didn’t cry, and he knew it. Tears had been beaten out of her when she was a child by her father. “Maybe. I hope. In the meantime, I need you to tell me where you’re going when you leave my bed. I swear I’ll try, Bree. I will, but I’ll need you to cooperate when I’m losing it like this.”
She nodded. “Bathroom and Zane. Whatever order, but I’ll let you know if I’m going anywhere else when I get out of bed.”
“You go down to the kitchen.”
“If I can’t sleep. Sometimes I think about taking a three A.M. swim, but I know you won’t like it, so I don’t.”
“Tell me and I’ll go with you.”
“I like you to sleep.”
“Breezy, I’m not sleeping if you’re not in the bed with me. I’d prefer a swim anytime to lying there waiting for you. Anything I do with you is better than doing it alone. If you can get that concept, we’ll be good.”
“I want you to think about at least taking a ride every day. Even for an hour, Steele. Let that be the first step toward letting go a little. Please do that for me.”
The idea of leaving her alone was terrifying, but he had to find a way to ease up. He needed to ride with his brothers. That was part of him, like breathing. He nodded. “I’ll want you with me every other time.” Just having his family separated, one at home and one with him, was already making him hyperventilate. He more than half hoped she would say no. She didn’t like to be away from Zane any more than he did.
“It’s a deal. Every other time. I’ll ask Lana and Alena to look after him. They’re always offering.”
That helped, knowing both of his very lethal sisters would look after his child. He needed physical activity. His body felt as if he’d been beaten with a baseball bat. In any case, the water in the pool was warm, and the outside temperature had dropped.
He glanced at his watch. The app was there, showing him that Zane slept peacefully. Nevertheless, he texted Maestro and Keys to keep an eye on the boy. Zane hadn’t been waking up since he’d been in his own crib, at least not to get up. Sometimes he woke up and played quietly in his crib before going back to sleep. Steele liked to watch him.
“Come swim with me now, Bree. I need to be in the water.” Maybe all along he knew he needed a pool. He liked to be in water. It helped make him feel like there wasn’t so much blood coating his skin, clinging to him in spite of all the scrubbing he did. In spite of his sterile rooms and continual cleaning.
Breezy didn’t hesitate. She left her silken kimono on a lounger, neatly folded. He loved her all the more for that. Very grateful she hadn’t asked him any questions about Demyan or that terrible, life-altering event, he took her hand and walked with her down the steps into the warm water. She’d let him share it his way.
“I didn’t realize you were so cold, baby.” He gathered her close, his arms sliding around her middle, just under her breasts. Her skin was freezing. That made him look around and really notice the weather.
The temperature on the Northern California coast could drop fast, and it had. The wind had picked up and he hadn’t even noticed though he observed everything. That was how far gone he’d been, lost in his past. Breezy had been right there with him, listening to his every word, words he didn’t even remember.
He tightened his hold on her. “I’m so damned lucky to have you, Bree. I know I don’t tell you enough, but I feel it. I’m sorry I hurt you when I sent you away. That should never have happened.” There was no way to explain how he’d felt when he’d learned her age. He didn’t want to think for one moment that he was anything like the men and women who had abused the children at the school where he’d grown up.
“It actually turned out to be a good thing, Steele,” she said, leaning her head back into him. “I learned how to be strong, and I needed to be. I like who I am so much more,
and I know I can be a better parent to Zane.”
He was proud of who she’d become. “You’re a wonderful mother to our son. I hope to be as good a father to him. Just bear with me during these first few months. To know that my son was taken, whether I knew about him or not, has shaken me.”
“I can understand that,” she admitted. “Thank you, Steele. I know it wasn’t easy sharing what you did with me. I needed to know so I could better understand.”
“I’ll keep trying to ease up,” he assured her. He knew he needed to. He wasn’t going to try to take advantage because she knew. He wanted to be better for her. For his son. For any future children they had.
“I’ll race you across the pool.”
“Breezy.” Just her name. That said it all. There was no way she could beat him.
Her soft laughter teased his senses, made his heart just a little lighter. “You could give me a head start. To the halfway marker.”
“That might be cheating just a little too much.” He knew it wasn’t. “I win, I get to fuck you any way I want.”
“I win, I get to do the same.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
She tilted her head back, her arm sliding around his neck. The action lifted her breasts, drawing his immediate attention. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Steele bent his head and took her offering. She tasted like heaven. Paradise. Sin and temptation. He indulged himself, kissing her over and over because he needed to. Then he wanted to and then he just lost himself. The moment he lifted his head, she swam away, kicking strong, heading for the other end of the pool. He obliged her by waiting until she was at the halfway mark before he swam after her.
He won of course, because he wasn’t missing out and he wanted to make slow love to her and make her crazy. He loved taking his time and driving her out of her mind. The little hitches in her breathing as well as her moans and soft cries were so perfect. He could listen to them all night. He kept at it until she gave him that pleading demand, his name so breathy it lit up his world. Only then did he allow her release and go with her, so that it roared through him, taking him like a tsunami might.
She looked back at him, hands and knees on the wide lounger, a smile on her face. “Who won?”
“Both of us,” he conceded and rolled her over, wrapping her in a towel when he felt her shiver. “I’m wide awake.”