felt worn out and drained, but somewhat hopeful. If they were that thorough, then maybe they wouldn’t be looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
“We’ll take the majority with us,” Steele said. “Everyone volunteered to go, and Bree and I thank you for that. Czar, I think it best if we leave your team with you and I’ll take mine with me. We’re used to working together and Reaper and Savage will—”
“I’m riding with you,” Savage said and got up. He pushed his chair back to the table, nodded at Blythe, leaned down to brush a kiss onto the top of Anya’s head and prowled out.
Savage prowled. He never just walked, Breezy decided. There was something very scary about him. His declaration was met with silence.
“Should I be worried about him?” Breezy asked. “I don’t need a powder keg.”
They all looked at her. Focused entirely. She felt familiar fingers of fear creep down her spine.
“You should worry about your man, not one of us,” Reaper said. “No one goes up against Steele when he’s pissed. No one. Not me. Not Savage. You’re sitting next to the powder keg.” He got up, held out his hand to Anya and they followed Savage out.
Steele stood next, his fingers an iron band around her upper arm, so that she rose as well. “We’re riding out at three this morning. Dress warm. We’re traveling fast. You’ll need weapons but prepare for a search. We’ll be riding through Diamondback territory and into Swords territory so no colors.”
Breezy had never heard the authority in his voice like that. He’d certainly told her what to do on occasion, but she realized that power came naturally to him. He wore it easily on his shoulders, so much so that she should have caught it, but they all deferred to Czar. They’d played up his role as the badass when they’d ridden for the Swords. He’d been the one the Swords club members feared, and that had prevented them from really seeing the others. What did Reaper mean about Steele when he said he was the one to watch, not Savage? She was very confused by the changes in all of the Torpedo Ink members.
Steele pulled her under his shoulder, his arm locking her front to his side, and took her with him right out the door, not even giving her a chance to say good-bye to Blythe or Anya.
Breezy knew she should pull away from Steele and stand on her own two feet. He wasn’t the kind of man one could give a few inches to, he’d take the mile every time, but she was trying to puzzle out how she had missed the way he carried himself with such complete confidence.
“Are you really a doctor?”
He glanced down at her but didn’t slow down on the way to his Harley. Behind them, Maestro and Keys kept pace. She didn’t hear a sound, not even the whisper of their motorcycle boots. The only way she knew they were there was the glimpse of them she caught when she looked back.
“Yes. A surgeon actually, but I had advanced training in several fields. I don’t practice here for anyone other than the club. Code makes certain I have up-to-date licenses so if I had to perform surgery on one of them, it would be legal. We’re putting together a little clinic with the latest equipment, so Blythe can bring the kids.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. It was one more reason why she didn’t belong with Steele. He was intelligent. Really gifted. Off the charts. That, she’d always known. One couldn’t be with him for even a brief time without realizing just how intelligent he really was. She had common sense, but she wasn’t book smart. She’d never had that chance. Bridges had pulled her out of nearly every school she’d ever attended. She’d been lucky to have Delia helping her figure out how to do the adult classes to get her GED.
Steele slipped onto his bike, backed it out and waited for her to tuck her hair into the helmet and climb on behind him. She surrounded him with her arms, locking her hands at his waist. The moment she did, she had the same rush that had happened earlier, adrenaline moving through her veins like a drug. Motorcycle. Steele. Freedom. In her life, on the back of Steele’s motorcycle was the only time she’d ever experienced the feeling of freedom. She’d loved it. She tried not