Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(70)

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.”

I pressed my lips together. “But—”

“There are no buts to this situation. And you have no idea what this feels like, because you don’t have any family to stab you in the back like this.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stiffened. “I mean . . . shit. Heidi—”

Okay, that hurt. I didn’t need his reminder that I was alone in this world, thank you very much. I knew it all too well. But I refused to show him he’d hurt me, so I scowled. “Stop. Don’t you dare apologize to me.”

He ran his hands down his face. “Fine.”

“And you’re right. I don’t know anything about this life you lead. This whole kill-or-be-killed thing.”

He dropped his hands to his lap. “That’s everyone’s life, darlin’. Most people are just too blind or na?ve to see it.”

“People like me?”

He shrugged. “Your words, not mine.”

“Why don’t you tell Tate about this? He’s the boss, right?” I leaned in close. “He could, y’know, handle the situation, and then you won’t have to. Common sense says—”

“No.” He reared back, his nostrils flared. “I will never turn him in. Never.”

“But . . .” I knew it was harsh, but if it came down to Scotty or Lucas, I’d always champion Lucas. I didn’t even know his little brother. And anyone who could plot to kill his own blood deserved what he got, really. But that didn’t mean Lucas had to be the one to pull the trigger. “So, what, you’d rather Scotty die by your hand? How is that better?”

“I’d rather he hadn’t started this goddamn mess in the first place.” He pushed back off the bar. Resting his palms on the bar, he leaned in and stopped when we were just nose to nose. God, he loved getting all up in my personal space during an argument. It was equal parts intimidating, annoying, and hot. “But he did, so I’ll take care of it. Not Chris. Not Tate. Not you. Me.”

Shaking my head, I forced myself to remain calm. “I don’t understand your reasoning. I’m trying, but I don’t.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “If Tate kills him . . . I know what happens to rats and traitors. Being my brother won’t save him from a slow, torturous death, and after he’s finally dead, his body will just disappear. But he should be with my ma. When she passed, I bought another plot, figured I could use it for a dead drop, so we have the room. He should be with Ma.”

The heartbreak was clear in his voice and I fought back tears. “Maybe you could ask Tate to jump him out and exile him? On the account he’s your brother?”

“He’s a traitor. If you turn on one of us, you turn on all of us. And you die.” He lifted a shoulder. “That’s the way it is.”