Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1) Page 6

  She rubbed her forehead, not looking away. “They’re really dead.”

  “Yeah. They’re really dead.” I stiffened beside her. Something rolled off her, and for the first time after a fight I’d won . . . I almost felt ashamed. When I killed, it was usually for the job. Not for a fucking girl. What the hell had I been thinking? “Do you think I could have made them a cup of tea and asked them to kindly please stop hurting you?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head slowly. “No.”

  “Exactly.”

  They went to the back door of the bar and tried the door. She tensed. “What are they doing?”

  “They’re looking for you. Looking for a plot hole in our story.”

  She rubbed the goose bumps off her arms. “And if they find one?”

  “Then you won’t be safe.” I tipped her chin up, forcing her to face me. Her skin was soft. So soft it felt almost wrong to touch it with my rough hands. As if I dirtied her by doing so. “You have to stay with me. We have to make it look real.”

  She tapped her foot, looking anywhere but at me. I knew why. We were close, I was touching her, and I’d bet my last dying breath that she felt the same electricity I did. That same undeniable urge to get closer. Much fucking closer.

  “Do you have a spare bedroom?” she asked.

  “No.” I tipped my head to the left. “I’ll sleep on the couch; you can have my bed.”

  “I couldn’t ask that of you. I’ll take the couch.”

  I forced a smirk. “Aw, come on, sweetheart. What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed that to happen?”

  “I thought you weren’t a gentleman,” she shot back.

  “I’m not.” Letting go of her, I took one step back. I tried to put enough distance between us to help keep my undying urge to touch her in control. It didn’t work. I still wanted her. “But for you, I decided to be one tonight. Sleep well. I’ll be an asshole again in the morning.”

  She shook her head, a small smile tilting her pink lips up in the corner. “That’s not something you can turn off. You’re either an asshole or you’re not.”

  “Oh, I am.” I strode to the couch and sat down, setting my feet on the table and crossing my ankles. “Don’t ever think otherwise. You saw what I do to people who fuck with something that’s mine.”

  Her nostrils flared, and she marched up to me with narrowed eyes. “I’m not yours, Lucky. Stop thinking I am.”

  “It’s cute that you think that. Really, it is.” I stared up at her, forcing the same I don’t give a shit smile to my face I’d perfected when I was ten. “Because you’re wrong.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “You have this whole thing down to a science, don’t you?”

  “This whole what?”

  “The tough-guy act,” she said, leaning down and looking me square in the eyes. “You say something nice, realize you did it, and then say something ludicrously ignorant to even it out. To make people not like you.”

  I snorted. She was uncomfortably close to the truth and I couldn’t let her know it. At least one piece of her logic was wrong. How could I possibly be some kind of nice guy masquerading as an asshole? It was the other way around; tonight, I was an asshole masquerading as a nice guy, and that was much more dangerous. “Run off to bed, sweetheart, before I decide to show you just how much of an asshole I can be.”

  “You don’t scare me.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared me down. “And furthermore, I don’t require your protection. I can take care of myself, just like I always have. I’ll sleep here tonight, but tomorrow this thing we have going on between us?” She pointed to me, to her, and back again. “It’s over.”

  “If you hadn’t just been brutally attacked in an alley, I’d show you exactly what we have between us.” I stood slowly, my gaze locked on her the whole time. She flushed and didn’t back off. “You started something last night when you came up to me in your bar and called me Lucky. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you know exactly what you’re doing now. You’re fucking with me.”

  She lifted her chin. “Yeah. So why are you smiling, then?”

  “Because I have a secret.” I skimmed my fingers down her arm, watching the goose bumps rise as I went. She stood her ground, not retreating from my touch. “I know exactly what I’m doing, too.”

  “And what, precisely, is that?”

  Leaning in, I brushed my lips across her cheekbone. Just a featherlight touch, enough to show her I wasn’t messing around. Enough to make her slightly afraid of me, because she needed to be afraid of me. If she wasn’t, I’d have no defenses against her.

  “Oh, funny you should ask,” I said, grinning against her temple. I cupped the back of her head, threading my fingers through her silky curls. “Even funnier? I have no intention of answering. You’ll just have to wait to find out, like a good girl. But I’ll give you one hint.”

  Her breathing increased. “What’s that?”

  “We’re not over and you’re not refusing my protection. I didn’t stick my neck out for you to see you get jumped in an alley tomorrow night, without me there to save your pretty little ass. I own you now, darlin’, and you’d best accept it.”

  She stepped to the side as far as she could with me holding on to her hair, glaring up at me. “God, you’re so—”

  “Devastatingly charming?” I let go of her completely, rubbing my jaw and grinning at her show of anger. “You’ve told me that once or twice.”

  “Annoying. Insufferable. Cock—”

  Her cheeks turned red as soon as she started to shout that last one.

  I spluttered before bursting into laughter. “I have one of those, yes. But don’t think you’ll be seeing it anytime soon. Now, go to bed before I change my mind.”

  She scowled at me and spun on her heel. As soon as she cleared the bedroom door, she slammed it behind her. I dropped the smirk and sat down, letting out a shuddering sigh. This was a fucking mess. Not only had I broken my code of keeping my nose out of other people’s business, but I’d done it with another gang.

  One that was a reliable repeat customer.

  I’d killed two of their men and almost killed the third.

  I should have just finished the third asshole off, too, so there would be no one to talk. If this wasn’t a shit storm, I didn’t know what was. I’d just declared war on Bitter Hill, a gang that was our ally, and over what? A girl? A challenge?

  The door opened and she came out. She’d taken my shirt off and stood clothed in that damn see-through bra again. “I no longer want to sleep in this. It feels dirtier than the blood-soaked shirt did, because it’s yours. Unlike me.”

  With that, she stalked across the room and chucked my shirt at me, hitting me dead center in the chest. “Heidi, put the damn shirt back—”

  “No.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders, her blue eyes flashing beams of fire at me. “And when I’m asleep in your bed, think of this. I sleep nude . . . but you’ll never get close enough to see that for yourself. Because this is over.”

  With a dramatic hair flip that only a woman like Heidi could pull off, she turned on her heel and went into my room, shutting the door behind her. As I held my shirt—which now smelled like peaches—she slid the lock into place.

  Okay, yeah, I’d started a war over a woman.

  But what a woman she was . . .

  And she was all mine.

  CHAPTER 6

  HEIDI

  The next night, I cleaned the same spot on the bar for what had to be the millionth time, my motions jerky and rough. Jimmy sat on the corner stool, watching me like usual, but that wasn’t what had me on edge. I could handle him with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. All night long, from a table toward the back, a few guys had been staring me down all night. Watching. Waiting. Planning. I could tell from their clothing that they were from the same gang as the assholes who’d attacked me—Bitter Hill.

  And the man Lucas had let get away?
<
br />   Yeah, he was here, too. Watching me.

  I had a feeling they were lingering to see if Lucas showed up, whether he’d really staked his “claim” on me or not. If he didn’t, I’d be fair game. Lucas had told me as much last night, but I’d refused to accept it. Refused to pretend to be his “property” to scare off a gang that had suddenly decided I was interesting. I didn’t know what I’d done to earn this level of attention, but I didn’t want it. Even so, I had a feeling the scrutiny wasn’t going anywhere.

  The second Lucas had claimed me, the wheels were set in motion.

  And the fact that he’d killed two of their guys to protect me? Well, that didn’t help, either. I’d seen enough to know that a challenge had been thrown down, and now I was going to be smack-dab in the middle of it, whether I liked it or not. It was becoming clear that I was stuck with Lucas, and his protection. And I didn’t get a say in that, either.

  The biggest guy at the table kept staring at me, so I raised a glass to him and downed the water I’d gotten myself moments before. As soon as I set the empty glass down, he smirked and rested a hand at his hip. On his gun, no doubt.

  Then he stood and moved toward me, one cocky step at a time.

  My heart sped up and my muscles stiffened, but I forced myself to remain calm outwardly. When he stopped before me, he leaned on the bar casually, his back to the wall and his front to the door. Watching out for Lucas, more than likely. I knew how men like him worked. Always on guard. Always ready for the next fight.

  “Where’s your man?”

  I stared back into his eyes, not backing down. He was tall and muscular, but I didn’t care. It was all about appearance with guys like this, and to show him weakness or fear would be the biggest mistake I could make. “I don’t know. Working, maybe? I’m sure he’ll come in soon. He always does. It’s why we started dating in the first place. The guy just kept showing up, like a bad penny. Eventually, I gave in. Romantic, isn’t it?”

  Shaking his head, he chuckled. “For your sake? You better hope so. I need to talk to him. He crossed the line last night, and this needs to be settled. I understand he felt the need to protect his girl, but thing is? No one knew you were his to protect. And if you’re not, and he lied to us . . .” He let his words trail off, staring at me menacingly.

  He didn’t need to finish his sentence. I knew exactly what he inferred, and exactly how much danger I would be in if the lie was exposed. Damn it, Lucas had been right. I still needed his protection. Tossing the rag down, I crossed my arms. “That’s all fine and dandy. What can I get you to drink . . . while you’re waiting for him to show? I see you didn’t have anything on the table back there, and this isn’t a charity establishment, so . . .”

  “Is that so?” He glanced down and tapped the paper on the bar that had tonight’s specials printed out on it. “Well, then . . . I’ll have four of these two-dollar Sam Adams, please.”

  I gave him a small smile, being careful not to reopen my wounds. It didn’t hurt much anymore, but I figured better safe than sorry. “Of course.”

  As I walked away, I felt his eyes on me. Everywhere. The attack still fresh in my mind, I had to fight back a telling shudder. I knew exactly how men like him got what they wanted . . . all too clearly. And I didn’t want him anywhere near me or my bar. But business was business, and the Patriot needed all the money it could get. As it was, I barely managed to make ends meet. The past few months had been particularity tough, but I’d be damned if I’d let it go down without a fight. I owed that much to Frankie. According to him, the Patriot had been around since the birth of our country. The way he told it, the Founding Fathers themselves had sat in this bar, plotting and planning for this very country. Whether it was true or not? I didn’t care.

  This was my baby, and I wasn’t about to send paying customers away when I had bills to pay, booze to buy, and employees relying on me. I’d watch them, sure, while waiting for Lucas to show up and scare them away. But still . . .

  Relying on a guy to swoop in and rescue the day didn’t sit well with me.

  I took care of myself and my own on my own. I didn’t need some guy helping me. Protecting me. Not until now, anyway. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I slid the beers onto the bar and met the man’s eyes. Or tried to, anyway. He was too busy staring at my boobs to notice. I found myself wishing that I hadn’t sent my waitress and cook home when the kitchen closed at nine. But since we weren’t serving food, no service was needed, so I couldn’t just pay them for sitting around and doing nothing. I was on my own. Holding my hand out, I cleared my throat. “That’ll be eight dollars.”

  “Yeah.” Slowly, his gaze lifted. “I figured that out by myself.”

  I arched a brow. “I wasn’t sure if you could. I mean, math can be confusing for guys like you. So can the word no.”

  “I never had a problem with math, but you’re right. I don’t like the word no or what it stands for. Never have.” He handed me a five and four ones. “Keep the change.”

  A whole dollar. “Gee, thanks.”

  He nodded to me once, grabbed the mugs, and walked off. Swaggered off was more like it. As soon as he was back at his table, I released the breath I’d been holding and went to the register to put the eight dollars in, tucking the lousy tip away safely.

  Marco came up behind me. “They gonna be trouble?”

  “Nah.” I blew out a breath. There was no way in hell I wanted Marco anywhere near this mess. Not when he was about to leave all this crap behind him, once and for all. “Nothing to worry about. I thought I told you to go upstairs. I’m fine on my own.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He leaned on the bar, his eyes on the Bitter Hill Crew. They stared right back, challenging him without words. Marco straightened. “They look like trouble to me.”

  I stared down at the register, taking a second to compose myself. I hadn’t told him about the attack last night, and I had no intention of ever doing so. I told him I slipped on the wet floor, and busted my face on the bar on my way down. If he knew the truth, he’d confront those guys. And if he did that, someone would get hurt. Him, more than likely. He was a good kid and an effective bouncer, but he wasn’t a match for guys like them, who killed without blinking.

  Guys like Lucas.

  And even though Marco had lived on the streets, he wasn’t made for that life. He wasn’t going to be stuck here, dealing with gangs and murder and rape. He was going to get out of here in five days and make something of himself. Do something real with his life. Sure, he’d done his share of petty thievery to get by while he’d been living on the streets, but he had dreams and goals. And I was determined to make sure he got them. Determined to see him thrive in a world full of shit and evil.

  He had to.

  “Of course they’re trouble. Men like them always are.” I shrugged and turned my back to them. I was sick of watching them stare at me as if I was their next meal. “But they’ll keep to themselves, I’m sure. And if they don’t, I’ll handle them.”

  He looked less than convinced. “I don’t know. They’re watching you closely.”

  “Nothing new there,” I said dismissively, waving a hand. “Enough about them. Did you start packing yet?”

  He ducked his head and peeked at me from beneath his lowered lashes. “Yeah, but let’s be realistic here, Heidi. I’m not going to fit in there. All the other students will be . . . you know, normal. Rich. Spoiled.”

  “But not better than you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I bet they’d disagree.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what they’d say. Not after that essay you wrote, which your guidance counselor said was the best one she’s ever read. I guarantee they didn’t get any others that looked even half as amazing as yours.” I rested a hand on his arm. “And you can’t think like that—thinking they’re better than you. They’re not. You have just as much right to be at that college as anyone else does, and you’ll see that when you get there.”

  He sm
iled, but I could tell it was forced. “You might be right. But until then, I’m going to head up to pack since you don’t need me. I’ll be down later around closing just to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Okay.” The door opened behind me, and I knew, without looking, exactly who had walked in. I could feel him, even without confirming that it was indeed Lucas. “Be safe.”

  “You, too. Speaking of which,” he mumbled, eyeing the door, “that redheaded guy is back.”

  My heart kicked up a notch. “Yeah . . . about him?” I smoothed my hands down my jean shorts. It might be cold outside, but it was hot as hell in here, so I dressed accordingly. The whole bar consisted of one smallish room, so body heat added up quickly on a busy night. “He’s my boyfriend, in a way, for a little while. Sort of.”

  Marco’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, sort of?”

  “It’s a long story, and nothing you need to know, since you’ll be outta here soon.” I smiled, but I had a feeling it looked as strained as his smile had. “I just didn’t want you worrying if you saw him touching me, or talking to me too long. That’s all.”

  “All right . . .” He stepped back, his attention still on Lucas. “He’s not your type, though.”

  Laughing, I pushed off the bar. “Do I have a type at all? I don’t exactly date a lot.”

  “True. But when you do?” He walked away and said the last bit over his shoulder. “It’s not guys like him. Be careful.”

  “Always am,” I called out. “Now, get out of here.”

  After taking a breath to calm my nerves, I spun around and scanned the poorly lit room for Lucas. I really needed to get better lighting, brighten the place up a bit. He made his way over to me with long, determined strides, completely ignoring the Bitter Hill table. His attention never wavered from me. As he walked across the room, my stomach clenched tight. He had a way of moving through a crowd that announced, without his even trying to, that he owned everyone in it. That he, and he alone, was in control. And everyone who disagreed could go to hell.