a baby. She was quiet still, not belligerent, not accusing, just stating the facts. And they were facts—as she saw them. He had chosen the club, but he hadn’t not chosen her.
“That’s true from one point of view, Bree,” he conceded. “But I wanted you. I had no business keeping you when I knew all hell was going to break loose. I had to protect you.”
Her gaze never left his face, as if she could see straight through to his twisted way of thinking. “Then why didn’t we have a plan to meet up later?”
That was a fair question. He didn’t want to answer that one either. The rules of their club were very simple. Respect. No lies. Take one another’s backs at all times. If he wanted Breezy in his life, those rules had to extend to her, no matter how painful the telling was.
“We have a code we follow. It’s what we live by. It’s how we survived. Being with you broke that code. You were underage. I had no idea. None. Not one clue, Bree. You have to understand, that’s a sacred rule. By being with you, I fucked up worse than you could possibly imagine. It was wrong.”
She was silent for a long time. A flush slid up her face and her chin rose a fraction of an inch. “I see. Well, you don’t have to worry. I understand completely. No one wants a reminder around that they’re a complete fuckup because they were in a relationship with someone. Or a semi-relationship, whatever you want to call what we had. Well, we know what to call it—your worst fuckup.”
“Damn it, Bree, you’re twisting everything I say into what you want to hear.” Steele raked both hands through his hair in an effort to keep his hands off of her. She had always been amendable, eager to please him, to do whatever he asked. The worst was, he could see why she would think that way. He’d certainly led her to believe he didn’t want her or value the time they had together.
A faint smile touched her mouth—that mouth he fantasized over. “If you think that, Steele, you don’t know me at all. The last thing I want to hear from you is that you think being with me was the ultimate fuckup.” She rubbed the top of her knees with her chin. “This doesn’t matter anyway, the only thing that matters is getting Zane back. If you think you can do that, and the rest of your club backs you up, then we’re good.”
“It matters, Bree, because you’re going to stay here with the baby and we’re going to parent him together. In order to do that, we have to straighten things out between us.”
Her eyes flashed at him, that vivid green going crackling, like a flame that might consume him. His cock jerked hard and something inside him that had been held tight and closed since he was a child broke open. Shattered. Left him vulnerable and exposed.
Steele clenched his fists at his sides, breathing hard as he tried to work off the panic and adrenaline. Self-preservation had kicked in, and he stayed as far from her as possible. He’d always known she had the potential of crawling inside him—she had found a way to steal his heart. But this was so much more.
Now, he was aware of the difference in her in a big way. Before, he’d taken care of her. Looked out for her. Made certain she was safe. He’d been the dominant in their relationship. It hadn’t been a true partnership because she had no way of knowing any kind of life outside the Swords community and she’d stayed quiet and followed his lead. She’d been so young, and yet he’d expected her to be grown-up. By staying quiet and observing, she’d done what was expected of her, but she hadn’t participated as a partner—because she couldn’t.
He’d never been in a relationship before. He didn’t even know what one was until he’d met Czar’s Blythe. Breezy had a valiant spirit. He had seen so many children succumb to death because they just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—fight back. Breezy would have survived the horrors of the school Torpedo Ink had endured. So many others didn’t have what she had. He recognized it, because he’d seen so many die. He’d held them in his arms. He’d cried so many tears he was certain he didn’t have any left.
He leaned against the door, dragging in deep breaths,