Vengeance Road Read online

  Could he sound any farther from her? He thought she was condemning him and blaming herself for not being able to stop him. She shook her head and turned, sliding her arms around his neck. “I hate myself because I’m not capable of being you, Steele. I’m forcing you to do all the dirty work to get Zane back for us. That’s not right. It leaves you with the nightmares and gives me freedom to pretend I wasn’t part of any decisions.”

  “You’re not going to have to pretend, Bree.” His voice was implacable. Cold. “You don’t have a say in this. I wouldn’t listen to you arguing with me about my decision. I’m going to take them both apart, and I’ll know every single thing they know about Zane’s disappearance. No one, not even you, the one person who might have influence over me, will be able to stop this. They took him from you. They have him somewhere. He’s alone. He’s terrified. I know what that’s like. They shouldn’t have taken my boy.”

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them.” She whispered the apology, tears burning behind her eyelids. This was bringing it all back to him, it had to be. The murder of his parents. The things they’d done to him. What things? He had said torture. Rape. Repeatedly. She hadn’t asked questions; she didn’t know how long it had gone on. He’d barely scraped the surface and she hadn’t asked him questions because she could see it was making him sick. She’d done what she’d always done when Steele was upset: she’d turned his attention to her body.

  Breezy pushed her forehead into his chest, desperate for air. “What if Bridges did sell him?” The idea made her want to vomit. “What if they’re doing to him the things that happened to you, Steele? Our baby. Why didn’t I have a gun? I should have bought a gun. I should have used that money to find a safer place, one they couldn’t get into.” She was babbling, and she couldn’t stop. The pressure in her chest was enormous, so much so that she thought her heart was shattering.

  “Stop it.”

  Steele’s low command startled her. His hand went under her chin and he jerked her head up, forcing her gaze to meet his. There was that arctic cold there and little else.

  “This won’t help. You have to stop, Bree. You can’t go there. We have one job, and that’s to find him and take him back. I’ll kill anyone in my way. I’ll take apart anyone who can give me information and won’t when I ask politely for it. We will get him back. When we do, I’m going to beat the shit out of Bridges and Junk and then I’m going to kill them. I intend to make them both feel every pain you ever felt in your life, and if they hurt Zane, it will go twice as bad for them. There isn’t anything you or anyone else can say to sway me from that path. Ask any of my brothers, nothing stops me. No one stops me. I got the name Steele because I’m unbending. Zane is coming home. You hang on to that.”

  She concentrated on his strength. Steele was unbending. That’s what he’d told her, and she could see that trait in him. She might not like it all the time, but right now, in this moment, she needed that from him. The Swords would make the mistake of taunting him, just as they would have had she been asking the questions. They would try to scare her with tales of what was happening to Zane, and she would fall apart. Steele wouldn’t. She could see that.

  “You’re going to go with Lana—”

  “I don’t need anyone but Lana with me,” she said softly. “Keep everyone else with you. Lana can keep us safe. She’s like you. I’ve seen it in her.”

  Lana was beautiful, but more than once, Breezy had been uneasy in her presence. The woman gave off a deadly, dangerous vibe if you were around her for very long. During her time riding with the Swords, Lana was never far from Ice’s side. They rode together, and Ice made it known that no one touched Lana. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been good enough. The other members would have harassed her, touched her as she walked by, groping and stroking, making lewd comments, maybe even pulling at her clothing. No one did. That said it all about Lana.

  “I’m sending two brothers. I won’t lose you, Bree.” He framed her face in his hands. “I’m a killer, Breezy. That’s who you have in your bed. I have more blood on these hands than you can possibly conceive of, and I touch you with them. I’m not losing you over this. Just know that. The bullshit you told me about how I would let you go if you wanted to leave is just that—bullshit.”

  She knew better but it didn’t matter because she loved him. She loved him as the healer, the doctor who protected everyone and looked out for them. She loved this man, the one with the strength to do whatever was necessary to get their son home safely. No policemen could find him before they killed him or sold him. She knew that.

  “When I was fourteen years old, my father gave me to one of his friends. I’d never been with anyone, and Bridges owed them a favor. I was what he wanted, and he gave me to him and walked away. He hurt me, Steele. He hurt me beyond anything I thought was possible. My father laughed when he tossed me on the floor in front of him, broken and bloody. He got up and got beer. They sat around the living room drinking while I lay in front of them.”

  “Damn it,” he whispered.

  “I tried to go to the cops. It was the biggest mistake of my life. My punishment was Bridges letting that man and his two friends do what they wanted with me short of killing me. I couldn’t get up for a couple of weeks and I was lucky I lived through the punishment. I know the police aren’t going to be able to help us. I know you have to do this to get our son back.”

  His eyes never left hers as she told him what her father had let happen to her. Those dark blue eyes went so dark they appeared black, gleaming at her like a vicious cat’s, growing colder and more predatory with every word she said. His hands never wavered though, framing her face gently, his thumb stroking caresses over her skin.

  “I’m telling you this so you’ll understand that I know what you’re doing is necessary and I’m ashamed that I can’t do it for us, that I’m leaving that to you. I’ll never blame you for something that you did to get our son back. Not ever.”

  “You will give me the names of those men.”

  Her heart clenched hard. Her man. He believed in vengeance. “Steele.” She said his name softly to deter him. “This is about Zane, our innocent sweet little boy.”

  “This is about disgusting pedophiles who would hurt a fourteen-year-old girl or take a two-year-old boy from his mother by force.”

  She’d never thought of her father’s friends as pedophiles, mostly because at fourteen, she was already so old in her mind she didn’t think of herself as a child. “Just get us our son back and we’ll call it good.”

  “Give me their fuckin’ names, Breezy. I’m not asking again.”

  She knew what his brothers were talking about now. She was coming up against the unbending man. He wouldn’t give her this, and she had to yield. She wasn’t protecting them, she just didn’t want Steele to put himself in harm’s way to extract whatever vengeance he felt was necessary on her behalf.

  “Donk, Favor and Riddle.”

  “Donk is Bridges’s sergeant at arms. Code’s been looking into him. He’s disappeared as well, so the general consensus is that he is with Bridges.” He dropped his hands from her face, but his arm locked her in place, a bar across her back.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You know Donk. He’s a brute and he likes hurting people.”

  “You mean women. He likes hurting women and kids. He kicks them around. He does the same with the prospects because they can’t fight back. He’s a pussy, Bree. He wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes in one of our schools.”

  Breezy bit her lip to keep from arguing that point. Donk was a huge man. Yeah, he had a beer gut, but he was strong, and he liked to punch anyone who looked at him wrong. Quite a few members of the chapter were afraid of him.

  “If Donk is with Bridges, then Favor and Riddle know where they are, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind they’ll visit them at some point. Favor, Riddle and Donk hang together all the time. What o
ne does, they all do.”

  “That’s good, Bree. I’ll put Code on it.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “Take off now.” His gaze went beyond her. “Lana, I’m trusting you with what means the most to me.”

  “I won’t leave her side, you know that, Steele.” Lana very gently caught Breezy’s upper arm and tugged her away from Steele. “Who’s the bait?”

  “Master’s going in. Preacher will watch his back. You hang back with Bree until they tell you they’ve cleared the entire area. The others will be close if something goes wrong.”

  Lana shrugged. “I can handle a couple of Swords idiots with my eyes closed.”

  “I’m not worried about the ones we know are there. I’m worried about the ones we aren’t aware of. Don’t be cocky.”

  “Steele, you know I’m always cocky. Got my brothers, don’t have a worry.” She blew him a kiss and started to step away, tugging on Bree’s arm.

  Steele reached out and caught the front of Breezy’s jacket, jerking her back to him so hard she nearly stumbled into him. She looked up, blinking, and he took her mouth. He didn’t start gentle. He was rough. Demanding. Hot as hell. He ended gently, pulling her close to him, his mouth moving over hers, his tongue stroking love into her mouth until she wanted to cry because, even now, she felt that. Even now when he had to become the killer, she felt his love surrounding her.

  She’d told him once that she loved him, and he’d shut down. She watched his expression go from happiness to pure ice, to the mask. He had turned away from her, and she’d never repeated the sentiment—and she had no intention of making that mistake again. He was never going to tell her, never going to say it aloud, but it didn’t matter because she felt love in his every touch or kiss.

  She kissed him back, trying to convey the fact that she was with him every step of the way. She might not be able to do the things necessary to get their son back, so she was doubly grateful that he could. He lifted his head and a shiver went down her spine. He had that look again, the cold, deadly one. She cupped the side of his jaw for a brief moment and then turned to go out with Lana.

  “Thank you,” Lana whispered under her breath as she shortened her steps to walk beside Breezy. “He needed you to understand. He would say it didn’t matter, but you’re the one person whose opinion of him does matter.”

  “I’m ashamed I can’t do it myself and that he has to be alone.”

  “He’s not alone, Bree.” Lana handed her the helmet. “He’s got all of us. We’re like him. We can do whatever needs to be done. We’ve only got you, Anya and Blythe who can’t. We’re happy we have you. We need you. All three of you. We’re hoping you pull us a little more into the light.”

  Breezy had never thought of it that way. “Is that what you think I do for Steele?”

  Lana swung onto the bike. It was Ink’s. No Sword would ever trust his bike to a woman, not even his old lady, and Lana was not Ink’s woman. Lana had her own bike, but because they knew they would have times when they needed extra hands, she had opted to leave hers at home. It was obvious that Lana and Alena were an integral part of Torpedo Ink.

  “I know you do that for him. He was desolate without you. Steele’s a strong man and we all rely on him. It wasn’t the same after you were gone.”

  Breezy wrapped her arms around Lana and they were moving fast down the road, straight toward the block where her apartment was. Her heart began to pound. She had learned some self-defense from Steele, but clearly it hadn’t done any good when her father and brother broke in. She needed to be more of an asset in situations like this one.

  Her breath left in a rush. What was she thinking? More like this? She couldn’t consider living the club life again. What kind of responsible mother would that make her? She was in this situation because she’d been part of a club. It was Torpedo Ink, another club, helping to get Zane back. Torpedo Ink had contacted yet another club in New Mexico, to aid them with a place where prisoners were taken to interrogate them.

  Before they turned onto Breezy’s block, Lana turned onto the street that ran parallel. She drove right into a driveway and then turned around and went back out onto the street. Between the houses, they could see Breezy’s building.

  Bree watched as Master sauntered up the broken, uneven walkway to the door of her apartment. The door had chipped paint, and all around the other apartments on the lower story, ones like hers that had a semblance of a front yard, litter and needles and sometimes dirty condoms were thrown around. Drug deals were common right out in front on the sidewalk. She wanted to groan and hide her face, she was so ashamed.

  Master opened the door with the key she’d given him, looked carefully around and disappeared inside.

  “What if they’re watching and someone goes in the back way?” Breezy asked, anxiety beating at her. She didn’t want anything to happen to Master. She should have told Steele the records and photographs weren’t worth anyone’s life. Oh. Wait. She had. He hadn’t listened. That had evidently been one of those times when he made the rules.

  There was silence. It stretched out for minutes, each second ticking away so slowly she felt the pull on her nerves, but like Lana, she remained still. Lana had slipped off the bike and helped her off, indicating to her to remove the helmet. She kept her eyes glued to the apartment, looking between the buildings to see. A man emerged between two structures to cross the street, angling toward Bree’s apartment, his hands in his pockets. He glanced up and down the lane.

  Lana had parked the bike in the shadows, and Breezy knew not to move or they’d draw the sentry’s eye in spite of the fact that they were a distance away and one street over. The newcomer was wearing Swords colors. She held her breath. He turned and looked to his left, letting out a low whistle.

  The streetlights had long ago been smashed and no one had bothered to replace them, but it didn’t matter. She recognized him. The Swords had given him the name Bruiser, not because he liked to fight but because he bruised easily and was very clumsy. His closest friend was Dart, a man who was very skilled with a dart and often used them in fights. She would bet her last dollar that Dart was there right now, circling around behind the house to go in from the back.

  Lana didn’t move, nor did she say a word, so Bree kept silent as well. Lana appeared completely unconcerned by the fact that Bruiser was entering the front door and at the same moment, most likely, Dart was going through the back, trapping Master between them.

  A few minutes later Lana touched her ear where she wore a tiny radio and then smirked. “Master took them both out easily. He’s called for the truck.”

  Seconds later, an old beat-up truck with a deep bed pulled up in front of the apartments. It fit right in with the dilapidated building and the mostly broken-down cars lining the dirty street. Breezy knew the engine in that truck was in top condition and ran like a dream. Transporter slid out from behind the steering wheel and sauntered up to the walkway as if he owned the entire building. A few minutes later, he came out with Master, Dart between them. Dart looked more drunk than hurt. They deposited him in the back of the truck and they weren’t gentle about it. Bruiser was next. Breezy winced when the man hit the bed of the truck hard enough that it made noise.

  Transporter didn’t seem to mind. He jumped up into the bed, bent over and worked for a few minutes, presumably to secure the two men. He began tossing things on top of them. Old, torn boxes and other rubbish that had been in the back of the truck. He leapt out when he was satisfied and saluted Lana and then got into the cab. They waited for a minute.

  “Preacher’s given the all clear,” Lana said aloud. She glanced at Breezy. “He’s lying up on the roof across the street with a rifle. He would have killed the Swords to get the boys out. They were safe, Bree.”

  Breezy let out her breath. “I don’t think I have nerves of steel the way all of you do,” she admitted. “And you can all go for hours
, days. I’m exhausted and need to sleep; I know I can’t because time is important. I wish I was more like all of you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Lana said. “Never wish for that, Bree. You’re perfect the way you are. We don’t need more of us. We’re . . . flawed. Every single one of us. There’s no living on our own. We don’t know the first thing about how to live with society’s bullshit rules. Blythe works with us all the time, but we forget them. There are too many rules and they seem so unnecessary.”

  The two of them walked toward the apartment building. “Like what?”

  “Clothes. People make such a big deal about clothes. What others wear or don’t wear. Are they designer? Supposedly your clothes say things about you. It’s all bullshit. I don’t even feel good in clothes, they hurt my skin. And you have to know if a beach is swimsuit optional. You have to know if it’s topless or not topless. What’s the big deal?”

  “Steele said you wanted to open a clothing store.”

  “If we have to wear clothes, I’d like to choose what I’m going to wear. People are so hung up on what their neighbor is wearing or not wearing, they aren’t paying any attention to their own lives.”

  Breezy laughed. “That makes sense.”

  “And Blythe says people are really hung up about sex. Are they? Are you? She says they have so many inhibitions that sometimes they can’t even enjoy it.” Lana opened the door to the apartment.

  It was one of those moments, after seeing Steele’s house, that Breezy worried that Lana would judge her for living in a really bad place. She always kept it neat, but right now, her things were smashed and broken. It was obvious to her that the two Swords members had been using her apartment to stay in while they waited for her, or someone else, to return.

  “I’m not, no, but that’s because I understand Steele and his need to have all of you protecting us. He feels vulnerable, doesn’t he?”

  Lana nodded. “It’s better if we’re close. No one can hurt us, or the one we’re with. It’s just so much safer and we can relax.” She shrugged. “I guess others don’t feel vulnerable. Blythe says that to most people, having sex is very intimate, an expression of love between two people, and adding others around takes away from that, which I don’t understand at all.”