Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(69)

“But you have Heidi now.” He cocked his head. “She’s normal.”

I nodded once. “Indeed.”

“And you make it work.”

Tugging on my collar again, I shrugged. I didn’t like him focusing on her. The less the gang knew about her, the better. Then once we were over, she could break free of it all, once and for all. “So far, sure. But I’m a guy, so I’m sure I’ll f*ck it up at some point.”

Tate laughed. “Sure. We all do. But they usually forgive us.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “No offense, but did you really bring me in here to chat about the status of my relationship?”

Tate quit laughing. “No, of course not. Sorry.”

“Don’t mention it . . . sir.”

“I called you here because”—he came up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder—“I’d like you to take over the exporting and importing sector of Steel Row. Be my head lieutenant.”

I’d known it was coming, thanks to Chris’s intel, but it still sent a hollow ping through my chest, because it reminded me yet again that Scotty wanted me dead over a position. I said the only thing I could say if I wanted to walk out of there alive. “I’m honored.”

Tate clapped me on the back. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Not like I had a choice, really. If I turned it down, I might as well sign my own death warrant. Anyone who turned down advancement in this gang was suspect. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“Excellent.” He sat back down and pulled out his Mac-Book Air, opening it and staring down at the screen with a furrowed brow. “We’ll announce it at the party, then.”

I bowed. “See you then, sir.”

“Oh, and bring Heidi.” He glanced up at me again, his expression leaving no room for argument. “I want to meet this paragon of a woman who can handle this lifestyle of ours, without even knowing what the hell she was getting herself into.”

“Oh, she knew.” I headed for the door, my body tense. “But I don’t think she can come. She owns a bar, and she has to work.”

Tate leveled a frown at me. “I want to meet her.”

“Again.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry, but she’s busy, sir.”

“Another time, then.”

I left without answering, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. A bunch of guys sat at the bar, drinking and shooting the shit, but I walked out without so much as a wave in their direction. After I got behind the wheel of my Mustang, which we’d dropped off earlier so Chris and I could carpool to the docks, I gripped the shifter and snarled, “Son of a f*cking whoreson cocksucker.”

He wanted me to bring Heidi into the mix and introduce her to a roomful of people she had no business knowing? And even worse, Scotty would be there. If I brought Heidi, it would take Scotty all of five seconds to put two and two together.

And she’d be vulnerable to attack.

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 *s 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.