to one of the prospects and then he was yanking open her door. He caught her chin in hard fingers, forcing her head up so she was looking into eyes glittering with sheer anger. “If you think I’ll let you go into that hornet’s nest you’ve got another think coming. He’s my son. I’ll be the one going to get him.”
TWO
He had a son. Just saying it tore at Steele’s heart. More, he’d had a son with Breezy. His woman. The woman that he’d taken a thousand times in a thousand ways and still hadn’t gotten enough of. He knew he would never have enough of her. Touching her was always a mistake. Just now, with her face turned up to his, he wanted to slam his mouth down on hers and kiss her until neither of them could breathe.
That was the problem. That was the way he was. He liked certain things. He’d learned to like them from a very early age. He liked things his way. Always. He’d learned that as well from an early age. He’d been programmed and as much as he knew that was what it was, there was no going back from that programming, nor did he want to. He was used to deference and control. He was used to others doing what he said. As a doctor, his word was law. As a VP of the club, it was the same.
To say he’d been shocked when he read that letter was an understatement. Few things ever threw him, but that had. That had made him crazy. She’d been all alone. She’d never been away from the club or learned how to make decisions on her own. She hadn’t been able to, not with every order coming from her father or brother. Being out on her own for the first time, alone and pregnant, had to have been a nightmare for her.
Fear for her. For his son. Anger at himself. At the situation. Emotions boiled together, and Steele let go of Breezy’s face, caught her around the waist and pulled her out of the truck, easily tossing her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. She cried out, the sound like music to his ears when he’d wanted to shake some sense into her. He wanted to put her over his knee and spank the living daylights out of her, and not in an erotic way. Things tended to go down that road fast with the two of them. They burned long and hot. He felt her nipples pressing tightly against his back, two hard buds, telling him she was as aroused as he was just by being in close proximity. That and how aggressive he was with her. Her body responded to aggression whether she liked it or not. At least he wasn’t alone in his hell.
He stomped into the clubhouse, kicked the door closed behind him and put her down in the center of the common room. Savage tossed him a knife and Steele cut through the zip ties. Savage was one of the two Torpedo Ink enforcers. He had the sergeant at arms patch on the front of his vest. His head was shaved, he had blue eyes, cold as a glacier, and he looked every bit as dangerous as he was. He nodded at their prisoner but didn’t smile.
Breezy brought her arms in front of her and began massaging her wrists. Steele took her hands, using force when she tried to pull away, and examined both wrists for bruising or marks. Both were good, and he let her go.
“Breezy,” Czar greeted.
This was the president of Torpedo Ink, and she wasn’t at all surprised. She remembered him as the enforcer for her father’s chapter. He’d been scary then, he was even more so now. She remained very still, motionless, frozen like that mouse she often thought of herself as. From the time she was a toddler and her mother had run off after too many beatings and being passed around, or her father had sold her off, Breezy had been beaten for getting underfoot. She’d learned to stay out of her father’s way. Her brother had treated her with the same contempt. The other club members had followed their example.
Silence reduced the chances of beatings. The less she was noticed, the better for her. She kept her eyes as downcast as possible, when she was really looking around at her surroundings. Without all the men and women covering