Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1) Page 21

  Brian shook his head. “I don’t know. Too many risks.”

  “It could work, though,” Tommy said, eyeing me with new respect. He rubbed his jaw and slapped his hand on the table. “It could actually fucking work. He’s right. The Boys avoid the usual homeless haunts.”

  Tate cracked a smile. “All right. Then I say we should case the place, see how it looks. Take a few days to make sure we’re right, and then we make the move, if all the pieces line up the way I like.”

  Chris nodded once. “Seconded.”

  “Third,” Brian said.

  Tommy nodded. “Fourth.”

  They all stared at me. I shifted in my seat. “I came up with the idea, so obviously . . . fifth . . . or whatever the hell I’m supposed to say.”

  Tate laughed, his blue eyes shining like sapphires. The guy could be a ruthless killer, but there was no denying his charismatic charm. It was a dangerous combination, if you were on his shit list. “You’ll get the hang of it. Don’t worry.”

  “The hang of what, exactly?” I tugged on my collar and picked up my whiskey, which had been previously untouched. “Why am I here?”

  “That’s a conversation we’re going to have alone.” Tate nodded at the other men. “If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen?”

  The other three men grabbed their drinks and left without another word. As Chris passed, he winked at me. I flipped him off under the table. He laughed. As soon as the door shut, I set my glass down. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

  Tate shoved a hand through his red hair. “You’ve been loyal to us for over thirteen years now. A member since before you were old enough to grow hair on your chest.”

  I laughed. “With all due respect, you’re only two years older than me.”

  “Yeah.” Tate smiled slightly. “But I was born into this life. You weren’t. You chose it, embraced it, lived it.”

  I stared down at my glass. “Really? Most of the time, it feels like it chose me.”

  “Which is the sign I needed to know I made the right choice.” Tate leaned back and steepled his fingers, watching me over them like a hawk about to pounce on its prey. “You did your time, and when you came out, you integrated back into our life without a hitch. Some might even say you’ve shone like a fucking lightbulb.”

  “Call me Rudolph, if you must,” I said, smirking.

  “Call yourself whatever the hell you want, but I call it ambition. Street smarts. Success.” He stood and went to the window, pulling the blinds apart to look outside. It was a sunny day in Steel Row, and the light reflected off the tip of the cathedral. There were birds singing out the window, telling of the coming spring, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Mother Nature was a major bitch this year, and there was still snow on the ground. “I’d be a fool not to reward that.”

  I also stood, smoothing my button-up shirt over my abs. “What are you saying, sir?”

  “You know, I haven’t been on a date with a normal girl in ten years.” Tate dropped his hold on the blinds and turned to me. He ran his hand over the buttons of his suit jacket. “I feel like I’ve been in this life too long sometimes, you know. Like it’s changed me, but not for the better. Do you ever get that feeling? Like normal life is something beyond your reach?”

  I swallowed. “Yeah. I know the feeling very well.”

  “But you have Heidi now.” He cocked his head. “She’s normal.”

  I nodded once. “Indeed.”

  “And you make it work.”

  Tugging on my collar again, I shrugged. I didn’t like him focusing on her. The less the gang knew about her, the better. Then once we were over, she could break free of it all, once and for all. “So far, sure. But I’m a guy, so I’m sure I’ll fuck it up at some point.”

  Tate laughed. “Sure. We all do. But they usually forgive us.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “No offense, but did you really bring me in here to chat about the status of my relationship?”

  Tate quit laughing. “No, of course not. Sorry.”

  “Don’t mention it . . . sir.”

  “I called you here because”—he came up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder—“I’d like you to take over the exporting and importing sector of Steel Row. Be my head lieutenant.”

  I’d known it was coming, thanks to Chris’s intel, but it still sent a hollow ping through my chest, because it reminded me yet again that Scotty wanted me dead over a position. I said the only thing I could say if I wanted to walk out of there alive. “I’m honored.”

  Tate clapped me on the back. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

  Not like I had a choice, really. If I turned it down, I might as well sign my own death warrant. Anyone who turned down advancement in this gang was suspect. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  “Excellent.” He sat back down and pulled out his Mac-Book Air, opening it and staring down at the screen with a furrowed brow. “We’ll announce it at the party, then.”

  I bowed. “See you then, sir.”

  “Oh, and bring Heidi.” He glanced up at me again, his expression leaving no room for argument. “I want to meet this paragon of a woman who can handle this lifestyle of ours, without even knowing what the hell she was getting herself into.”

  “Oh, she knew.” I headed for the door, my body tense. “But I don’t think she can come. She owns a bar, and she has to work.”

  Tate leveled a frown at me. “I want to meet her.”

  “Again.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry, but she’s busy, sir.”

  “Another time, then.”

  I left without answering, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. A bunch of guys sat at the bar, drinking and shooting the shit, but I walked out without so much as a wave in their direction. After I got behind the wheel of my Mustang, which we’d dropped off earlier so Chris and I could carpool to the docks, I gripped the shifter and snarled, “Son of a fucking whoreson cocksucker.”

  He wanted me to bring Heidi into the mix and introduce her to a roomful of people she had no business knowing? And even worse, Scotty would be there. If I brought Heidi, it would take Scotty all of five seconds to put two and two together.

  And she’d be vulnerable to attack.

  I had to find a way to get her to leave me. To push her away, once and for all, before my life dragged her down. If I was a dick, she wouldn’t like me anymore. And if she didn’t like me anymore, maybe she wouldn’t feel guilty about taking my cash. And if she took my cash, she’d run. She’d be safe.

  I slammed the car into reverse, making it back to my apartment in record time. As I climbed the stairs, I heard Heidi talking animatedly. I stiffened, stopping outside the door to listen. “No, of course not. You have to go.” There was no reply, and then Heidi said, “I know, I’ll miss you, too. But you’ll be fine, Marco, I promise. I’ll come in tonight and work. Yeah, at four.” She jumped as I walked in, then waved at me. Turning her back, she nodded. “Of course. We’ll talk soon, okay?” After she hung up, she spun back to me, her phone pressed against her chest. “Hey, how did your job and meeting go?”

  “Fine.” I tossed my keys on the table and rotated my sore arm. “Everything okay with Marco?”

  “Yeah, he’s just finished packing and is heading out for dinner with a few friends. He wanted me to come with him, but I declined.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “He doesn’t need me around him right now, considering . . . you know.” Considering I’d turned her into a walking target, she meant. “Plus, I have work to do at the bar, since you’re feeling better.”

  I crossed the room and opened the cabinet to the left of the sink. It had my gun-cleaning supplies, and after firing it yesterday, I needed them. Especially since she was determined to go to work tonight. “Yeah. I know.”

  Heidi came closer, her thumb pressed against her lip. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Cleaning my gun, in case I need to kill more assholes to keep you alive,” I said, keeping my tone caustic and surly.

  She blinked, c
learly taken aback at my behavior. “Okay, then. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the couch this morning.”

  Pushing past her, I sat at the table and rolled the white cloth across it, lining up my supplies and ignoring her. She watched with wide eyes as I took my gun apart with practiced ease. When I set it all down and pulled out the barrel brush, she still hadn’t moved. I frowned. “Don’t you have something better to do than stare at me?”

  She stiffened. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

  With that, she walked past me, into my bedroom, and slammed the door in my face. I sat there, staring down at my gun, and felt . . . shame. Over the past thirteen years, I’d killed, stolen, bribed, and fought my way to the top. And for what? Power? Money? Notoriety? What the hell good would any of that be when I was six feet under, or anchored to the bottom of the Atlantic? Yes, I’d been trying to push her away to save her, and yes, I had noble intentions for once in my life. But even so, I’d been a dick.

  And for the first time in my life, that didn’t sit well.

  CHAPTER 22

  HEIDI

  Later that night, I stood behind my bar, watching the door nervously. It was the first time I’d left the apartment since Lucas had been shot, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. None of the Bitter Hill guys were here yet, but nothing was stopping them from coming in. Lucas was here, brooding in the corner seat at the bar, but a group of guys could still barge in here and do some serious damage before Lucas could take them down.

  If he could take them down.

  He had some mobility in his arm again, but it certainly wasn’t a hundred percent. How could it be? A little over thirty-six hours ago, he’d been shot. I had no idea if it was still painful, but I could only assume it was. He’d been throwing off majorly cold vibes, so I hadn’t asked. I knew better than to poke a man who didn’t want to talk, so I’d given him some space all day long.

  He glanced at his phone and muttered a string of curses under his breath.

  “That was a mouthful,” I said dryly, leaning on the bar. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered. He shot a look at Chris, who sat in the back corner watching the door, and hunched over the bar. “Just thinking out loud.”

  “About . . .?”

  “Shit you don’t need to know about.” He rubbed his jaw. “Shit you don’t want to know about.”

  Cleaning the bar with a rag, even though it was spotless already, I kept my voice purposely calm. “Where did you go earlier today?”

  He tensed. “Out.”

  “Wow, that was so informative,” I snapped. This attitude of his . . . I’d had enough. He needed to explain himself, and do it now, or he’d answer to me. “Thanks.”

  Something inside him eased a bit. I had no idea what, but it did. His muscles relaxed, and he sighed. “I was searching for Scotty, if you need to know. To stop this shit before it gets out of hand. I went to his place, but he was gone.”

  My heart seized as if someone had grabbed it and squeezed as hard as they could. “You can’t just go looking for him. What if he killed you? What if—?”

  “I don’t give a damn.” He locked his gaze on mine, and for a split second, I saw all the emotion he was so good at hiding from the world in those green depths. But he turned away, and it was gone. “He’s my brother, Heidi. My brother.”

  I pressed my lips together. “But—”

  “There are no buts to this situation. And you have no idea what this feels like, because you don’t have any family to stab you in the back like this.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stiffened. “I mean . . . shit. Heidi—”

  Okay, that hurt. I didn’t need his reminder that I was alone in this world, thank you very much. I knew it all too well. But I refused to show him he’d hurt me, so I scowled. “Stop. Don’t you dare apologize to me.”

  He ran his hands down his face. “Fine.”

  “And you’re right. I don’t know anything about this life you lead. This whole kill-or-be-killed thing.”

  He dropped his hands to his lap. “That’s everyone’s life, darlin’. Most people are just too blind or naïve to see it.”

  “People like me?”

  He shrugged. “Your words, not mine.”

  “Why don’t you tell Tate about this? He’s the boss, right?” I leaned in close. “He could, y’know, handle the situation, and then you won’t have to. Common sense says—”

  “No.” He reared back, his nostrils flared. “I will never turn him in. Never.”

  “But . . .” I knew it was harsh, but if it came down to Scotty or Lucas, I’d always champion Lucas. I didn’t even know his little brother. And anyone who could plot to kill his own blood deserved what he got, really. But that didn’t mean Lucas had to be the one to pull the trigger. “So, what, you’d rather Scotty die by your hand? How is that better?”

  “I’d rather he hadn’t started this goddamn mess in the first place.” He pushed back off the bar. Resting his palms on the bar, he leaned in and stopped when we were just nose to nose. God, he loved getting all up in my personal space during an argument. It was equal parts intimidating, annoying, and hot. “But he did, so I’ll take care of it. Not Chris. Not Tate. Not you. Me.”

  Shaking my head, I forced myself to remain calm. “I don’t understand your reasoning. I’m trying, but I don’t.”

  If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “If Tate kills him . . . I know what happens to rats and traitors. Being my brother won’t save him from a slow, torturous death, and after he’s finally dead, his body will just disappear. But he should be with my ma. When she passed, I bought another plot, figured I could use it for a dead drop, so we have the room. He should be with Ma.”

  The heartbreak was clear in his voice and I fought back tears. “Maybe you could ask Tate to jump him out and exile him? On the account he’s your brother?”

  “He’s a traitor. If you turn on one of us, you turn on all of us. And you die.” He lifted a shoulder. “That’s the way it is.”

  “That’s why you want to do it yourself,” I said, finally understanding. “You want to give him a merciful death. Fast and quick.”

  He gritted his teeth. “He’s my brother.”

  “And if he kills you first?”

  He didn’t meet my eyes. “Chris will make the arrangements. All you’ll have to do is get out of Dodge before Bitter Hill comes sniffing around again.”

  I crossed my arms, moving away from him. He acted as if his death would mean nothing. Like the only reason I cared whether he lived or died was because I didn’t want to be without protection. As if I’d just shrug and move on as if he’d never existed. I didn’t know whether to be pissed, insulted, or sad. “Wow. Just . . . wow.”

  He stared at me, looking cold and aloof. “I need some peace and quiet.”

  And then he walked away.

  I watched him, anger burning red-hot through my veins, but didn’t follow him. If I did, I’d hit him. And if I hit him, I’d kiss him. And I didn’t want to kiss him right now.

  I wanted to hate him. Too bad I loved him instead.

  Chris came over, his beer empty, and set it down on the bar. “Trouble in paradise already?”

  “As if you’d expected anything else?” I asked, my tone as neutrally passive as I could manage. “Want another?”

  “Yeah.” He sat down and looked at Lucas—who glared back at him. “You need to back off him. He’s not your knight in shining armor.”

  I poured his beer, trying to ignore the stinging behind my eyes. God, I hadn’t cried in years. Years. And now here I was, worrying about a man who didn’t give two shits about me, seconds from tears for the millionth time in a short handful of days, and I couldn’t stop. Lucas was trying to break me. “I never said he was.”

  “You don’t need to say it. I can see it.” Chris tossed cash on the bar. “But you can save him, for once, if you’re willing.”

  I slid his beer toward him and stole
a look at Lucas. He watched, those green eyes of his burning into me, as I took the cash off the bar. “Oh? How so?”

  Chris leaned closer. “There’s a party tomorrow night. Tate asked for you to come, but Lucas told him you had to work. Word is, Tate’s pissed.”

  “I do have to work, but I could get out of it, if I need to.” I curled my hand into a fist, crinkling the crisp five-dollar bill. “But why would your boss want me there?”

  “He wants proof that you’re real and that this isn’t just a ruse. Lucas caused a shit-ton of trouble when he swooped in and rode away with you on a white horse.” He tapped my hand. “Tate wants to know it was worth it. He wants to see the two of you, hand in hand, madly in love with one another. And if he doesn’t . . .”

  “Lucas gets in trouble.” I swallowed hard, my chest aching. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  “He’s still protecting you. Like always.” Chris shrugged. “Even if it gets him killed, which it might, he’ll refuse to bring you along.”

  No. No. I couldn’t let that happen. “But—”

  “Now that you got your beer, can you go back to the corner to watch the door?” Lucas sat down directly next to Chris, anger seething from him. “I need to talk to Heidi. Alone.”

  Chris grinned. “Sure, man.”

  As he walked away, Lucas turned back to me. “What was he saying to you?”

  “Nothing.” I cleaned the spot on the bar I’d cleaned ten times already, not meeting his eyes. I couldn’t right now, because he would see the truth in my eyes. “What’s his story, anyway? He an orphan like you?”

  “Nah, his pa’s in the gang, and he followed in his footsteps. I did, too.” He tapped his fingers on his untouched glass of scotch. “Well, I followed Chris. Not my pa.”

  “So no one from your family was ever in it?”

  “No. We needed the money, Ma was already sick, though we didn’t know it yet, and she couldn’t work as many shifts at the restaurant. I knew from hanging out with Chris that you could make a decent living as a Son, but I also knew that you had to be a legacy to get in. Tate’s way of weeding out rats and undercover cops.” He shifted in his seat but kept talking. “So I found a way to meet with Tate and convinced him to let me in the Sons of Steel Row. Trial basis at first, petty-ass shit, but soon enough I was climbing up the ladder, faster than any other new recruit.”