back away from his friend. He turned toward the house just as Riddle emerged.
“Favor’s calling to Riddle to get them beers. Riddle’s giving him shit.”
Riddle was clearly shaking his head and taking steps toward them. Donk spun around and all but roared at the man. His arms waved up and down and he lowered his head as if he might charge like a bull. Riddle hastily turned and headed back inside.
“You’re doing great, Lana,” Steele said. “Don’t fall asleep on us.”
“No worries. It’s a little too hot here for me. I like our coastal weather. I’m never going to complain about the fog again.”
Keeping his eyes on Donk, Steele tried distracting her. It wasn’t fun to lie out alone right in front of the enemy, particularly if he might be able to identify you. It was what they did, and Lana was a pro, so maybe his guilt was still weighing heavy on his mind.
“Lana, Breezy told me that Bridges used to beat her once a month during the time she was riding with me. When she belonged to me. She was afraid for me because she knew I’d go after Bridges.” It occurred to him that Breezy was smart enough to time those beatings with her monthly period just so she had evidence in case Steele had noticed, but he never had, because he was a selfish bastard. Damn him. Why had he reacted like an idiot? Why hadn’t he pulled her into his arms and held her? Thanked her for having his back.
There was complete silence. Mechanic clearly was absorbing what he said. The others waited for Lana to weigh in. It took a couple of minutes.
“She knew the Swords would expect you to be okay with Bridges beating the shit out of his daughter,” she mused finally. “If you retaliated, she thought they’d hurt you. Maybe even kill you.”
“I would have killed him,” Steele conceded. “She probably knew that.”
“Most likely,” Lana agreed. “And then the others would have gone after you.”
“But she should have told me,” Steele reaffirmed. He believed that wholeheartedly. She should have told him. His head hurt from trying to understand what was the right way to handle Breezy’s reticence. He could plan a battle against an enemy whose numbers were far more than his team’s, carry it out and never so much as blink, but knowing the right thing to do with a woman he loved, that was completely different—and much more difficult.
“Yes,” Lana agreed, “she should have.”
They all waited for Lana’s take on it. No one spoke. Living in a society other than their own was difficult when they didn’t know the procedures. They had been children making up their own rules for survival. They’d kept those codes because they’d worked all those years under the worst possible conditions.
The instructors at the other three schools may have been brutal but they’d taught the inmates how to fit in because had been helpful when they’d been sent on missions. No member of Torpedo Ink had been expected to live. They’d been sent out on straight seduce and kill missions. How to use a fork at an upscale restaurant had been deemed useless to them.
“Were you angry with her?” Lana asked.
“Yes. He could have done any number of things to her and …” He trailed off, the sneaking suspicion coming to him. He didn’t want to voice it.
Lana did it for him. “Mostly, she should have trusted you.”
The others were nodding, but Steele knew it was more than that. So, evidently, did Lana. He could tell by her voice. Breezy should have trusted him, and it angered him that she hadn’t. He thought she was all his, but she wasn’t. In Torpedo Ink’s world, they trusted one another to have their backs. They talked things out. They didn’t keep secrets … He pulled himself up short. That wasn’t true.
He hadn’t told the others that Breezy was his one. His only. Reaper had kept secrets, and it had nearly blown up in his face. Everyone had secrets, even them. He closed his eyes for a moment, anger stirring. He’d had a shit childhood. His teenage years hadn’t been so hot. His early twenties hadn’t been anything to write home about. Now, he was blowing his one chance because he didn’t know shit. Not one fucking thing about relationships. Relationships were a minefield, far more dangerous than any battle he’d ever been in.
“This is a difficult call, Steele,” Lana said. “I’ve spent a lot of time