do were cruel beyond anything they did to others. They wanted him to be like they were, I don’t mean with a penchant for children, because he wouldn’t go there, none of us did, but for other things.”
He swept his hand down the soft thickness of her hair. There was comfort in that simple movement when the days and nights of his childhood were too close.
“Honey, I know this is hard for you. I didn’t realize, because I had no way of knowing about the terrible things you had to endure as children, but …”
“Zane is our son, Breezy. Ours together. We made him, from you and me. The club views him as theirs as well. We’re all family. Family takes care of family no matter how bad it is or what the cost to us personally is. If you belonged to Savage and Zane was his child, I’d be right here and so would everyone else. That’s what we do. We’re Torpedo Ink and that is Torpedo Ink.”
Steele knew that Breezy’s fear of clubs was so ingrained in her that she would have to have that affirmation over and over again. He didn’t mind reassuring her often, now that he was aware of her issue. She had to reassure him that she loved him, so much so that she was willing to let him have photographs of them when he fucked her … That brought him up short. He didn’t “fuck” Breezy. It had never been that for him. He hadn’t known what it was, but it wasn’t that. He hoped she felt the difference just the way he did whenever he touched her.
She rubbed the back of her head against his chest. “Maestro and Keys watch over you the way Reaper and Savage have always watched over Czar. I noticed it even then, when you all rode with the Swords. They were never far from you. Most of the time, the members were close. Bridges used to be angry that he couldn’t be in the little ‘pussy clique,’ as he referred to you. He said you were pussy magnets and everyone considered all of you badass and were afraid of you. He wanted into that circle.”
Steele had known that about Bridges. All of them knew it. Steele had maintained a distant but friendly relationship with the man because he’d wanted Breezy and he had a plan to get her. He’d maneuvered Bridges into a position of offering her. He hadn’t wanted Bridges to know he was gone on her, that would have given the man too much power. As it was, in the year before Bridges had made the offer, Steele had beat the shit out of thirty-seven of the club members just for thinking about going there. Word had gotten around, that although Steele didn’t go near her, he used his fists on anyone who approached Bridges about her.
“Maestro is like Reaper in a lot of ways, yet where Reaper is rough, Maestro is gentle. That doesn’t make him any less lethal. He’s faster than you can imagine and has no qualms about slitting a throat if he thinks it’s justified. Keys matches that. He’s a little less laid-back than Maestro, but the two work very well together. They know what the other one is going to do in any given situation and they just take care of business.”
“I like that they protect you.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t. He didn’t want anyone else dying for him. He wasn’t going to lose someone because they put his life before theirs. “They can protect you and Zane now.”
He slid his hand from under her breast, up over the curve to her throat. He loved to feel her heartbeat. More, he loved that she never flinched when he wrapped his very large hand around her throat. She did trust him, she always had. His thumb brushed her chin. All the while his gaze stayed glued to the house, the one where most likely his son was being held prisoner.
“I want a daughter, Breezy. One like you. One that has your sweetness and your ability to love and feel for others. You wanted to know why I wanted such a big house. I want to fill it with children.” He did. He wanted their children to have the childhood the ones who had died in that dark, cold dungeon didn’t have. He wanted to do right by them.
“At the same time, I want the freedom to fuck your brains out in every