her emotions to him. It had always seemed to matter to him just how she was feeling, and that had been one of the reasons she’d thought she meant so much to him. She’d noticed that he was very observant. He caught details, even small ones, others seemed to miss. The thing was, she had to keep reminding herself, it wasn’t just her he was like that with. She wasn’t anyone special. Her son was. He wanted her son. She had to keep her guard up and tell herself a million times a day, if necessary, that she wasn’t anyone special to him and she couldn’t save him at the expense of herself. She had Zane. He was the most important person in her life.
She’d forgotten how much she loved to be flying down a road, a highway, anywhere, on the back of Steele’s bike. He seemed to own the road. He drove with complete confidence, inspiring immediate trust in him. Her body moved with his as if it was born to be there. Each movement was perfect together as if the three of them shared the same skin and were one entity, not three separate ones. Man. Woman. The Harley.
She pressed herself deeper against Steele, biting back a little sob. Her emotions were all over the place. She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about Zane. If she did, she’d lose all control. She was terrified that her father would beat him the way he had her. She could only hope that whatever woman he’d forced to care for her baby would do her best to protect him.
Breezy tried to shut it off, that flow of terror that left her unable to breathe properly or think. She wanted to scream. Just open her mouth and scream out her hatred of the Swords, of the clubs, of the men and women who allowed such ugliness to be perpetuated against children.
Before she realized it, they were off the main highway and going through ornate gates to what appeared to be a very well-manicured farm. Through a flood of tears she desperately tried to control, she caught glimpses of a house in the distance off to her left, but they continued on the winding road in the direction Steele had set.
Eventually he slowed the bike and she found herself looking at a very large two-story house with a wraparound porch and a large parking area. There were six bicycles parked neatly under a roof that enclosed the space between a garage and the house.
Her heart clenched hard. There were children here. There were children’s bikes among the adult bicycles. One of the roll-up doors on the garage was open and she could see three small dirt bikes parked inside along with a sporty little car and a larger RAV4.
Steele shut down the bike and she took a deep breath, struggling to get herself under control. It was one thing to sob like a child going down the highway in the fog, it was another to face him and his brethren doing it.
She put her hand on his shoulder and forced her legs to hold her up after the experience of riding. Turning away from him, she removed the helmet.
“Bree. Look at me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this right now. I can’t lose it in front of everyone. Give me that, Steele. I need you to give that to me.” Her voice trembled because she was trembling. Her baby. She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling sick. He was alone. Scared out of his mind. Did he think she’d abandoned him? “He’s so little. He’s never known anyone but me. I’ve never even raised my voice around him. Not once. He has to be so scared. He saw them hit me. He saw them, Steele. What if they—”
He dragged her into his arms and pressed her face tightly against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, so steady, so strong. She couldn’t help herself, just for that moment she needed his strength, or she wasn’t going to get through what had to be done. Most of the time, she’d learn to push the terror to the back of her mind, so she could function, but at times like this, it pushed through the gates and took her over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed.
She hated that the others were silent witnesses of her breakdown. Steele kept her wrapped up tight in his arms, but walked her