Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)

I had to find a way to get her to leave me. To push her away, once and for all, before my life dragged her down. If I was a dick, she wouldn’t like me anymore. And if she didn’t like me anymore, maybe she wouldn’t feel guilty about taking my cash. And if she took my cash, she’d run. She’d be safe.

I slammed the car into reverse, making it back to my apartment in record time. As I climbed the stairs, I heard Heidi talking animatedly. I stiffened, stopping outside the door to listen. “No, of course not. You have to go.” There was no reply, and then Heidi said, “I know, I’ll miss you, too. But you’ll be fine, Marco, I promise. I’ll come in tonight and work. Yeah, at four.” She jumped as I walked in, then waved at me. Turning her back, she nodded. “Of course. We’ll talk soon, okay?” After she hung up, she spun back to me, her phone pressed against her chest. “Hey, how did your job and meeting go?”

“Fine.” I tossed my keys on the table and rotated my sore arm. “Everything okay with Marco?”

“Yeah, he’s just finished packing and is heading out for dinner with a few friends. He wanted me to come with him, but I declined.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “He doesn’t need me around him right now, considering . . . you know.” Considering I’d turned her into a walking target, she meant. “Plus, I have work to do at the bar, since you’re feeling better.”

I crossed the room and opened the cabinet to the left of the sink. It had my gun-cleaning supplies, and after firing it yesterday, I needed them. Especially since she was determined to go to work tonight. “Yeah. I know.”

Heidi came closer, her thumb pressed against her lip. “Whatcha doing?”

“Cleaning my gun, in case I need to kill more assholes to keep you alive,” I said, keeping my tone caustic and surly.

She blinked, clearly taken aback at my behavior. “Okay, then. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the couch this morning.”

Pushing past her, I sat at the table and rolled the white cloth across it, lining up my supplies and ignoring her. She watched with wide eyes as I took my gun apart with practiced ease. When I set it all down and pulled out the barrel brush, she still hadn’t moved. I frowned. “Don’t you have something better to do than stare at me?”

She stiffened. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

With that, she walked past me, into my bedroom, and slammed the door in my face. I sat there, staring down at my gun, and felt . . . shame. Over the past thirteen years, I’d killed, stolen, bribed, and fought my way to the top. And for what? Power? Money? Notoriety? What the hell good would any of that be when I was six feet under, or anchored to the bottom of the Atlantic? Yes, I’d been trying to push her away to save her, and yes, I had noble intentions for once in my life. But even so, I’d been a dick.

And for the first time in my life, that didn’t sit well.





CHAPTER 22





HEIDI




Later that night, I stood behind my bar, watching the door nervously. It was the first time I’d left the apartment since Lucas had been shot, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was going to happen. None of the Bitter Hill guys were here yet, but nothing was stopping them from coming in. Lucas was here, brooding in the corner seat at the bar, but a group of guys could still barge in here and do some serious damage before Lucas could take them down.

If he could take them down.

He had some mobility in his arm again, but it certainly wasn’t a hundred percent. How could it be? A little over thirty-six hours ago, he’d been shot. I had no idea if it was still painful, but I could only assume it was. He’d been throwing off majorly cold vibes, so I hadn’t asked. I knew better than to poke a man who didn’t want to talk, so I’d given him some space all day long.

He glanced at his phone and muttered a string of curses under his breath.

“That was a mouthful,” I said dryly, leaning on the bar. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. He shot a look at Chris, who sat in the back corner watching the door, and hunched over the bar. “Just thinking out loud.”

“About . . .?”

“Shit you don’t need to know about.” He rubbed his jaw. “Shit you don’t want to know about.”

Cleaning the bar with a rag, even though it was spotless already, I kept my voice purposely calm. “Where did you go earlier today?”

He tensed. “Out.”

“Wow, that was so informative,” I snapped. This attitude of his . . . I’d had enough. He needed to explain himself, and do it now, or he’d answer to me. “Thanks.”

Something inside him eased a bit. I had no idea what, but it did. His muscles relaxed, and he sighed. “I was searching for Scotty, if you need to know. To stop this shit before it gets out of hand. I went to his place, but he was gone.”

My heart seized as if someone had grabbed it and squeezed as hard as they could. “You can’t just go looking for him. What if he killed you? What if—?”

“I don’t give a damn.” He locked his gaze on mine, and for a split second, I saw all the emotion he was so good at hiding from the world in those green depths. But he turned away, and it was gone. “He’s my brother, Heidi. My brother.”

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