Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1) Read online

  By the time I came back up from underneath the car, my eyes burned with exhaustion. I rolled out and grabbed the rag off the side of the hood, wiping my hands clean. As I lay there, I squinted up at the clock. The numbers mocked me, in their bright red colors. It was well after five, which meant I had four hours until I had to be at the warehouse. We had a big shipment of AK-47s going out, and I was supervising.

  Tate had dropped that bomb on me this morning, too, likely some sort of audition.

  I pushed myself to my feet and made my way to the door. After one last look over the shop, I shut the lights off. Wearily, I went up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. Once I entered my apartment, I froze. The TV was still on, and I could see the top of Heidi’s blond head resting on my pillow.

  What the hell was she still doing awake?

  I made my way over to her. “Shouldn’t you be—?” I broke off, coming to a stop at her side. “Sleeping,” I finished on a whisper.

  Because she was.

  Her hands were folded under her cheek, and her blue eyes were hidden from me in slumber. Her cheeks were rosy, and she had my blanket pulled up over her shoulders.

  She looked like an angel come to earth.

  Gently, I reached down and swept her hair off her face, smiling when she scrunched her nose in response. I wanted to sit there, staring at her, watching her sleep. But then I realized how creepy that sounded, so instead, I opened my bedroom door. After turning the sheets down, I went back out into the living room and swept her into my arms. She barely weighed more than a box of gun parts, for fuck’s sake.

  As I carried her into my room, she snuggled up against my chest, murmuring something in her sleep. I carefully laid her down in the center of the bed, arranged her hair behind her, and pulled the blankets into place. For a second, I stood there, staring at her perfect beauty. She was almost ethereal in her innocent sleep . . .

  Without that devilish spark in her eyes.

  I swept my hand across her soft cheekbone and forced myself to turn away. After I closed the door behind me, I headed into the shower. The hot water washed over me, and I closed my eyes. I pictured Heidi and the way she’d come apart in my arms earlier, and pretended my hand was hers. I slowly pumped my painful erection, picturing her tits and smile. The way she cried out, her mouth parted as she came . . .

  It didn’t take long for me to come, her name on my lips. I rested a forearm on the tiled wall, my breathing erratic as I came back down. It eased the ache, but it wasn’t enough. My hand was a poor substitute for Heidi Greene, and my body knew it. It demanded her touch. Her kiss. Her.

  I had to be careful, though, with how much I let myself want her. I was a dead man walking, and it was only a matter of time till this earth was rid of me. I would be just another dusty police file, just another forgotten name. No one would remember me.

  She wouldn’t be any different.

  As soon as I was gone, she’d move on. Go back to hustling tips out of weak-willed men in her bar, fighting her way to the top of the food chain. And I had no doubt she would succeed. She was strong, smart, and brave. She wouldn’t give in to this world without a fight, and the world didn’t stand a chance against her. Hell, neither did I. I might not be willing to let her get too close to me, or to trust her . . .

  But damned if I didn’t want to.

  CHAPTER 10

  HEIDI

  The next afternoon, we walked down Yawkey Way, toward Gate A at Fenway, hand in hand. Red-and-blue banners with the Red Sox’s championship years listed on them lined the buildings, and people drank freely while chanting loudly about the upcoming victory. Every time someone pushed into us, I was concerned they were a threat, but Lucas hadn’t listened to me when I’d told him this date thing was a horrible idea. There were men out there looking to kill us, and we were going to a freaking baseball game?

  Yeah, that totally sounded like an excellent idea.

  I hated baseball. And crowds. And dates.

  Lucas hadn’t let go of me yet, and I had a feeling he somehow sensed that I wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction, away from him. Ever since he’d blown my socks off last night, I’d been in a weird place. And by weird place, I meant I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. And by thinking about him, I meant fantasizing about his lips on mine and his fingers doing magical things to me.

  The same fingers that were securely latched onto mine right now.

  He sighed, long and drawn out. “What’s wrong? You’re pouting again.”

  I glanced at him. He looked handsome as the devil in his dark brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and Converse sneakers. He wore a Red Sox hat and a five-o’clock shadow to die for. He looked unassuming and . . . normal.

  It was kinda freaking me out.

  I glanced down at my own jeans and black puffy coat. It was only mid-April, and it was still unseasonably chilly, so I’d opted for a wool hat instead of a Red Sox one. “Does it matter why?” I muttered.

  After all, I’d already made my feelings on this outing quite clear back at his place.

  “Heidi,” he growled, using that warning tone of his he loved to pull out and throw in my face. “Don’t make me—”

  “Fine. I think this is stupid. Why are we even bothering with the act? No one believes it. Going to watch a bunch of grown men in tight pants playing with their tiny balls isn’t going to make anyone feel differently, let alone those guys.”

  “Because—” His phone rang, and he dug it out without letting go of me. “Shit. Hold on. Yeah?” Silence, and then, “Yeah, we got the air filters squared away by ten thirty this morning. They’re all with their buyers now, and we made a better profit than expected.”

  Air filters? He was obviously speaking in code because there were people surrounding us. A woman shoved her elbow in my back and glared at me, as if I’d done something wrong by being near her in the first place, then pushed her way past the huge dude in front of me. Enough of this touristy crap. I rolled my eyes and tugged Lucas down a back road, next to the Boston Beer Works on the corner of the street.

  He followed me, talking about car parts and sales reports, but dug in his heels and frowned when I headed down an alley I knew like the back of my hand. “Hold on, man.” Then, to me, “Where the hell are you going?”

  “This way.” I yanked on his hand again, harder. “It’s a shortcut.”

  He held the phone to his chest. “It’s a fucking ambush waiting to happen. No.”

  He might think he knew the city better than me, but he was dead wrong. This was my city, thank you very much. I knew the streets to avoid and the ones that were safe to use. It was the rest of the world that got scared of dark alleys they didn’t know. “I used to sleep down there because it was close to the stadium. Vendors give out free food after the games sometimes, so it’s a popular spot for the homeless. Even the cops avoid alleys like this, so trust me. It’s fine.”

  His grip tightened on his phone. I could hear a masculine voice calling his name from the other end. “You slept down there?”

  My cheeks heated. Guess I hadn’t told him about that yet. Oops. “Later. Get back to your call,” I said, shaking my head. “And follow me.”

  “Heidi—” The muscle in his jaw ticked. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  No. We wouldn’t. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

  He gave me a dark look while lifting the phone to his ear. “Dude, take a fucking Xanax. I told you to hang on a second.”

  I tuned out the rest of his conversation, tensing as the familiar smell of sausages and onions washed over me. Whenever I came to Fenway, a rush of memories and forgotten emotions always hit me. I’d run away from my foster home when my foster dad had decided that by taking me in, he owned the rights to my body. Rights no thirteen-year-old girl should have to give to a sweating, overweight, balding forty-year-old.

  He’d been on the verge of raping me, so I knew I had to get out. One night of inappropriate touching sent me running. Th
e feeling of that man’s clammy hands running over my skin still haunted me. He’d touched my thigh—way too high up to be appropriate—and then grunted before whispering, “I’ll be at your door tonight. If you tell anyone or don’t let me inside, I’ll kill you like I did the last one. They never found her body, and they won’t find yours, either.”

  It hadn’t taken me more than five minutes to be out that window with all of my meager belongings slung over my back. I never looked back. To this day, I wished I’d castrated him before running. Lucas hung up and side-eyed me. He was obviously thinking about my earlier admission. I hadn’t meant to tell him about my past, because it didn’t matter. Everyone had a past, and chances were, they were never worth talking about. End of story.

  “Don’t.”

  He cocked a brow. “Don’t what?”

  “Look at me like that.”

  His bright green eyes locked me down. “How, exactly, am I looking at you, darlin’?”

  “Like I’m something to be pitied. You don’t like when I look at you like a hero, and I don’t like it when you look at me like that.” I turned away and focused on the spot where I used to sleep, between two big black Dumpsters. “Got me?”

  “Got you,” he replied, his grip tightening on me.

  I couldn’t help but feel he meant it in more ways than one.

  We fell silent, and I led him toward the end of the alley, my heart picking up speed when I saw a tag on the wall. It didn’t match the one on my bar, but it still sent chills down my spine. Lucas followed my line of vision. “It’s not Bitter Hill’s.”

  “I know.”

  “But even so . . . I don’t like walking down here.” He pulled me closer, scanning the shadows as we walked. A man grunted and rolled over, pulling his newspaper blanket higher. “We should have stuck to the main roads, and once we get out there again? We damn well are.”

  I peeked over my shoulder. For the first time, I had to admit he was right. Considering the circumstances, we needed to stay out in the open. “It’s just the crowds . . . they don’t agree with me.”

  He shrugged. “Well, suck it up, buttercup. We need them right now.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my shoulders and forced away the tingling sense of doom making the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “So, air filters, huh?”

  He scanned the alley again. “Yeah. What of it?”

  “Nothing. I just never thought I’d be dating a car parts salesperson, is all. Ugh, what a dull career to fake-have.” I forced a laugh. “Why not be an astronaut? Or a nuclear scientist?”

  He chuckled. It came out raspy sounding and way too sexy. “Darlin’, that’s exactly why we picked it. I’m trying to sound inconspicuous, not intriguing or sexy.”

  “Well, job done. I don’t find you sexy at all.”

  One second I was walking, and the next, I was against the brick wall, the breath whooshing out of my lungs. He trapped my hands between one of his and the rough wall, dipping his face down to mine. “Excuse me?”

  “What’s wrong?” My heart picked up speed, pounding so fast and hard that it hurt. “Did I hurt your ego?”

  The smirk I was all too familiar with crept into place. “The only thing you’re hurting, darlin’, is your chances of me getting you off again.” Lucas slid his thigh between mine, pressing ever so slightly against me. “Tell me. Have you been able to stop thinking about that one minute we shared? I’ll be honest. I haven’t been able to.”

  My core ached at the mere mention of the things he’d done to me last night, but I refused to show it. “Sorry about that. For me, it was entirely forgettable.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, his Boston accent doing odd things to my insides. “So if I tell you how much I want to feel your wet pussy against my fingers again, to make you scream my name, right here?” He slid his hand over my core, cupping me through my jeans. “You wouldn’t be interested?”

  Yes. God yes.

  “Nope, not at all.”

  He lowered his mouth to mine, not touching but close enough to do so with one small lift onto my toes. “Liar,” he breathed. “You want me. You want me so bad that you can’t think about anything but having me. One thing you don’t realize, darlin’, is that I know you. I know all about you.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about the way my brain works.”

  “You don’t want to like me. You want to push me away and pretend that the desire isn’t there, because I’m not a good guy.” Lucas brushed his lips against mine. “You don’t want to want a guy like me, because what would that say about your character? But you do, anyway. And you’re ashamed of that.”

  He was right about one thing. I did want him, and I didn’t want to. The rest, he had wrong. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting him. I just knew it was a horrible idea. I bit down on my lip. “I’m not ashamed of the way you make me feel.”

  Something akin to shock with a dash of hope crossed his face, but he quickly shut it down. So quickly I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing. “Bullshit.” He pushed off the wall, letting go of me and taking those magical fingers of his with him. He dragged them through his hair and checked out the alley again. “They always are.”

  “They?” I pressed a hand on my stomach. Butterflies still erupted into flight inside it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He caught my hand and towed me out into the sunlight, the other hand resting on his gun, each step harsher than the last. It was clear he was agitated, though I wasn’t exactly sure why. “Next time, don’t drag me down dark alleys when I’m on the phone. That was a bullshit move.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you were scared of the dark,” I shot back, beyond irritated at him and his attitude. “Next time, I’ll bring a flashlight along if it’ll help you feel better.”

  “Quit the bullshit, Heidi. You know why I didn’t want to go down that alley, but you pulled some tidbit of information out of your past, threw me off, and I allowed you to—”

  I held my hands up. “Hold up. Allowed me to? You have no say over what I do, or where I—”

  “You’re fucking killing me.” He covered his face. “I’m done. Done fighting you over every damn thing, when all I’m trying to do is keep your pretty little ass alive.”

  “I can take care of my own ass,” I shot back, hands on my hips. “I’ve been doing it all my life, and I’m not about to stop now. And furthermore, I—”

  Growling, he caught me behind my back and hauled me against his chest. I barely had time to register that he’d pulled me into his arms before his lips were on mine, moving over my mouth as if he’d been dying to kiss me for years. And I felt it, too. The need. The want. I curled my hands into his leather jacket, holding him in place.

  Because if he stopped kissing me, I might die.

  Lucas slanted his mouth over mine, slipping his tongue between my lips until he found what he wanted. The second his tongue touched mine, it was like sparks went off all around us, exploding into fireworks or something equally corny sounding. He let out a tortured-sounding groan and nibbled on my lower lip, and he could have had me, right then and there on Yawkey Way, in front of all the tourists swarming around us.

  But then he stopped.

  We both drew in a ragged breath, desperate for air. He rested his forehead on mine and pushed my hair off my face with a not-so-steady hand. “Jesus, sweetheart. What the hell are you doing to me?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “But you’re doing it to me, too.”

  He tensed. “I—we—shit.” Shaking his head slightly, he pulled back. By the time I could see his face, any hint of vulnerability to me, or anything, was gone. He looked as unaffected as ever. “Sorry that I kissed you without warning. I thought I saw a guy from Bitter Hill watching.”

  I stiffened, knowing a sorry-ass excuse when I heard one. But if he wanted to pretend nothing had happened between us, then fine. He could. And so could I. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Fa
lse alarm.” He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Staring up at the stadium, he hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “You ready to go in now?”

  I swallowed and nodded once. “Yeah.”

  He offered me his arm, not taking his hands out of his pockets, and stepped closer. “Hold on tight, in case anyone’s watching. When we get inside, I’ll get us some Sam Adams, franks, and Cracker Jacks.”

  I groaned. “You’re pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  I slid my hand into the crook of his arm and trudged along beside him. I couldn’t shake the sinking suspicion that this game was going to be, hands down, the longest three hours or so of my life. Especially since he’d kissed me again, and then proceeded to go on with his life as if he didn’t give a damn about anything . . . especially me.

  We walked up to the portly guard in blue. Lucas exchanged a few words with him and handed him a wad of cash to buy our way inside with a pistol. Lucas had refused to go out in public without it, and I didn’t blame him. We had no way of knowing when or how they would strike. Going out without protection would be foolish.

  The man nodded, stepping back to let us inside without using the wand on Lucas. The security guard and I locked gazes for a split second, and what I saw there left a sour taste in my mouth. He looked . . . ashamed of himself and his association with the Sons of Steel Row. Much like Lucas had accused me of, earlier.

  Is that what he thought he saw in my eyes when I looked at him? After I kissed him, or admitted I wanted him, like I had the other night? Of course not. He couldn’t see it if it didn’t exist . . .

  Could he?

  CHAPTER 11

  LUCAS

  Heidi leaned back in her chair and adjusted her knit cap, her face impassively placid, but her eyes . . . ah, her eyes told another story. In all the moments leading up to this, Heidi had whined, pouted, and even threatened to castrate me over this date. She’d told me she hated baseball and wouldn’t last ten minutes in the “stupid, idiot-packed stadium.”