27

STEEL

I left Mia wrapped up in the blankets in our bed, warm and sated from our lovemaking and my baby safe in her womb, something that could have easily changed when that cunt biker hit her that afternoon.

The image of the Harley speeding towards her with one objective—to hurt her—would live with me for the rest of my days. No matter how good we got, how much love we shared with our children, I was going to be haunted by that image every time I closed my eyes.

Nearly losing Mia or our child or both...

Yeah, that shit was never going to go away.

“Let’s all sit down,” Booth boomed from the doorway that led to his private suite of rooms he shared with Stella. He looked like our commanding officer all over again. There wasn’t a hint of the relaxed man he’d become once Stella pulled his head out of his arse. Nope. This guy was really fucking pissed off, just like all of us. Since his woman had already been the target of Rogue, he knew what I was going through. As did Deck for he too nearly lost his unborn child just moments after finding out about its existence—or rather, his existence. Like me, Deck was convinced of his child’s sex.

Every member of the club sat. Booth had asked the prospects to attend this meeting, so for the first time ever, they were sitting in the war room, not at the table like the patched members but against the wall near Booth. All members had looks that ranged from concerned to fucking angry on their faces. Even Ford arrived on time and without his usual fucked-up clumsy.

“First and most importantly, Steel, how is Mia?” Booth started the meeting by addressing me.

“Lucky. The fuckwad kicked her pretty high up on her chest, so her breasts copped most of the bruising. The baby is safe and sound and where she needs to be,” I said, repeating what I said to Mia in the clinic’s examination room.

“That’s great, brother. I’m glad for that, and congratulations on the baby and Mia. You two belong together. It just took you a little longer to figure that out,” Creed said, surprising me. There was no smile, but his eyes crinkled slightly. Creed had strong feelings for my beauty, strong enough to love her, but not strong enough to fight for her. Thank fuck. It wouldn’t have been easy to do, but I would have definitely fought Creed for Mia’s love. Now that I had it, felt it, tasted it, it belonged to me.

Mia belonged to me.

My chin lifted in his direction. I could read Creed better than the others around the table. He was hurt and disappointed that I knew. Creed was my club brother, my friend, and my sniper partner. We knew each other inside and out, each nuance, quirk, what each grind of the jaw meant, right down to a simple blink. We knew each other, so I knew Creed would have only stepped in if I really didn’t want to pursue a relationship with Mia.

Loyalty always before any other.

“The biker had to be close by and waiting. The girls have been warned not to go out by themselves. Somehow, he knew Mia was walking out of the compound property, but how?” Mannix started. Despite the personal involvement, this was a mission to us, and our trained minds began to take over. I loved Mia, but if it was going to save her, protect her, I needed to call on my sniper training and take some of my heart out of this, not all of it because the love I had for my beauty was the driving force that would help me kill the cunt stalking us.

We all looked to Booth. The man had skills, we all did, obviously, but not at his level. His thought process was a thing to behold. Right now, he was just staring into space, but he wasn’t seeing us, he was thinking about the question Mannix had asked. How. How did the biker know that Mia was leaving the property?

“Ford, bring up the car park’s camera feed for around the time Mia starts chewing Steel a new arse.” He grinned at me.

Fucker. I smirked and raised my middle finger at Booth, making my brothers chuckle. We watched in silence as Ford’s fingers flew over the keys on his computer, waiting for him to bring up the security images.

“Okay, Pres, here we go.”

We all looked at the large screen we had set up. I watched on the monitor as I pulled into the compound’s car park behind Darth and Deck, grimacing at the picture of Callie on the back of my bike. I didn’t want to look at this, but I had to. There might be a clue somewhere on the tapes that could lead us to the culprit. It still didn’t dispel the feeling that by having Callie on my bike, I somehow cheated on Mia.

Callie’s red painted nails clung to my biceps, and the smirk on her face was one of victory when she looked over and saw Mia coming out of the main door. Mia’s smile was breathtaking. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was dressed in shorts and that silly tee with flip-flops on her feet. Fuck, she was so beautiful. My beauty.

“Callie knows how to play the game, doesn’t she?” Deck said from his position across from me. A low growl left his throat as he continued to watch the monitor.

“Fucking oath she does, brother,” I agreed readily. Hatred for the bitch consumed me. How was I so fucking stupid?

On the table, Booth’s phone started ringing, and the ringtone of an Ed Sheeran song made us all snicker.

“Get fucked, the lot of ya,” Booth said with a goofy grin on his face as he answered the phone and put it on speaker.

“Hey, Honey, you’re on speaker, so no sexy talk.”

“You don’t have to worry about that from me, Booth.” Rogue’s digitally enhanced voice filled the room, and we all froze.

What the fuck? How did he have Stella’s phone? Booth let out a string of really creative curses.

“Now, now, Vincent, that wasn’t very nice. In fact, if you speak to me like that again, I will end your wife’s life and the life of your spawn, so shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Rogue shouted, anger edging the voice he created. Anger and something else—like he was offended. Why would he be offended by anything we said to him? This was the game he played with us—he taunted us, and we taunted back. He enjoyed the game so far, too much so, but still, now he sounded almost out of control. Not in charge anymore.

“You want to tell me why you have my wife’s phone.” Booth growled, his jaw clenched so tight I was worried his teeth were going to crack.

Rogue let out a maniacal laugh, and I didn’t know about my brothers, but it sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

“I don’t have her phone, Booth. I know what ringtone you have for her. I am smarter than you, Vincent. I know more than your computer geek, just like I know that Deck and the pretty little teacher are getting married, and I know that the slut stripper Rainn is living all on her own now.”

Mannix thumped his fists down hard on the table.

“You touch Rainn and God help me....” Anger vibrated from my brother. Somewhere along the way, his feelings for the dancer had changed. In which direction was yet to be seen.

“God won’t be able to help you, Mannix Steel. Nothing will stop me until every woman from that club is dead.” This guy was fucking crazy, unstable and very fucking dangerous.

“If you try to go after my woman or daughter again, there won’t be a corner in the world where you can hide from me, Rogue,” Deck threatened. His wedding was this weekend. Nothing would stop him from marrying Teach—absolutely nothing. But this threat was real, so maybe postponing was a good idea. Giving Rogue easy targets didn’t seem smart. We were soldiers, and using precision and calculation was how we worked and how we survived. Having a wedding ceremony out in the open wasn’t a good or calculated move.

“Don’t worry, Deck. You will get married. I’m busy this weekend, anyway,” The arsehole said flippantly.

Damn, this fucker had a huge set of brass balls to think taunting these men was a good idea.

“This game you are playing with us definitely has consequences for you, arsehole,” Creed spoke for the first time since we sat down. His usual MO was to sit back and listen while he kept his legendary temper in check. Always.

“Ah, Creed, so nice to hear from you. You are normally so quiet during these calls. You out of all of these men know what it feels like to lose one’s wife, don’t you, Creed. I am so sorry you didn’t die right along with your pretty little pregnant wife that day, but it wasn’t your time. I wanted you to suffer, and, boy, you haven’t let me down.” Rogue laughed.

In a flash, Creed was up and out of his chair, picking it up and hurling it across the room. A guttural roar left his throat, and it was at that exact moment I recognised the pain Creed had been carrying around with him since that fateful day. Never once had I seen him break... until now. Darth stood up and manhandled Creed out of the room with Creed fighting him every step of the way, but Darth outweighed him. Hell, Darth outweighed all of us. The term brick shithouse came to mind.

Silently simmering, we all waited until Darth had Creed were safely out of the room.

“That wasn’t very smart, Rogue. Creed is not the kind of man you want going after you,” Booth warned, the snarl on his face taking me back to our days in the army. Booth would snarl when he was ready to take the enemy out, and he knew the odds were in his favour. Unleashing Creed’s legendary temper definitely had the odds in our favour.

The silence coming from the other end of the line was a telltale sign that Rogue was most definitely worried. Was that a flaw in this arsehole’s game?

“Tell the cripple he better watch his whore twenty-four seven because I am coming after her,” Rogue said, the ominous warning heard by us all before he severed the connection.

“Motherfucker,” I roared. “There is no way in hell he is getting anywhere near Mia.” Wasn’t fucking happening.

Holding up his hand, Booth silenced me.

“No, he is not. And that goes for every other woman he has threatened,” Booth promised.

“Ford, I want Mannix and you to stay here and go through those cameras. Someone is giving him intel, and it is someone in this compound. For him to know Stella’s ringtone means that someone heard it ring here in the compound and told him. For him to know Rainn is living alone again means he heard that from someone here in the compound. Find that someone.” He shouted the last part as he stood up and looked at the prospects.

“Perimeter passes every hour. Be alert, be armed, and be prepared to shoot. No fuck ups or you’re out. I’m not kidding. You guys have dropped the ball once too many times lately. If you want to be a part of the Wounded Souls, act accordingly. This is not Sons of Anarchy, so the drinking and fucking around and letting the women get off the compound without detail stops now. Fucking got it?” He narrowed his eyes at them, giving them the famous Booth glare. Many a soldier had shit themselves, quite literally, being on the receiving end of that glare. I had never shit myself, but there had been some major quivering in my boots going on.

“Yes, sir,” they all answered at once.

Booth was right. The prospects had been approaching their probationary years here like it was one big booze and sex fest. If they had any hope of obtaining a member patch, heads had better be pulled out of arses. And if they let any of the women out of the compound again without a detail, I would shove my foot up their arses myself. If any of the women or Shiloh—if my woman got hurt again because they couldn’t do their jobs, I would rip their heads off and shit down their necks.

“I am not your father. I am your fucking president, so get serious or get the fuck out.” Booth dismissed them and then turned to Deck and me.

“Creed needs us,” he said. It was just three words, but they held deep meaning. What Rogue had just laid out was that he killed Lila. He’d caused the motorcycle accident that took her life and scarred Creed for life in more ways than one.