Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(81)

“Is that what you think of me?” I asked quietly, my chest tightening with each word. This was the closest I’d ever come to admitting I had feelings for her, and it scared the shit out of me. “Do you honestly think I would—could—abandon you if you were in trouble?”

She stared at me, not speaking. I stared right the f*ck back at her, letting her see me. Really see me. It was about damn time, too. Slowly, she shook her head. “No.”

“You’re my weakness,” I said, dragging my hands down my face. “And now he knows it. He f*cking knows it, Heidi. You handed yourself over to him on a silver platter. And me, too.”

She backed up, shaking her head. “No. I’m not . . . you don’t . . .”

“Yes.” I locked eyes with her, my chest rising and falling faster than it did after I ran five miles. My heart beat a rapid staccato in my head, drowning out the voices telling me to shut the hell up before I said something I’d regret. “I do.”

She covered her mouth. “Lucas . . .”

I stepped closer to her. “Run.”

“Run with me.” She took a shaky breath. “If you run with me . . . I’ll go.”

Another step. “No.”

“Then no.”

I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against me. “Damn you, Heidi. Damn you.”

And then I kissed her.





CHAPTER 26





HEIDI




Lucas spent all this time warning me off, like I couldn’t see what kind of man he was. All the examples of his “selfishness” were bullshit. He joined the gang to provide a better life for his family. He let Scotty jump in because he thought it would keep his little brother safe. He didn’t cut a deal and took the jail time because his loyalty was bone-deep. And now he was hinting that he felt something for me . . . something real . . .

But I didn’t believe him.

He was only saying these things—feeling these things—because he’d saved me. And now, as a result, he wanted to keep me alive. He was invested in my survival. That was all. My foolish heart might have wanted to attach a deeper meaning to his actions, to believe him when he looked at me as if I mattered, but I knew better. He didn’t love me. Or want to spend the rest of his life with me.

He’d just done the right thing because despite everything, he was a good man.

Just because he kissed me like he couldn’t live without me didn’t mean he actually couldn’t. Just because I wanted more, against all reason and logic, didn’t mean he did. He spun me so my back pressed against the wall, and growled deep in his throat. His hands roamed all over my body, touching everywhere. Leaving trails of fire in their wake. His tongue danced with mine, and I lost myself in him. As usual.

But in the back of my mind, even as he made me cry out in pleasure, was the pain that, this thing we had going between us? Yeah, it was dead.

It had been since the moment I’d called him Lucky in my bar.

Tears stung the backs of my lids. After what I’d seen at that party, there was no doubt in my mind that this whole Mexican standoff he and his brother had been stuck in was about to end. And it would end in a haze of bullets and blood. Maybe our blood. I could only hope it ended with Lucas still standing, because if it didn’t . . .

I didn’t know how I’d go on.

In the short time we’d been together, he’d woven himself into my life, into my heart. He’d made me realize that when it came to certain aspects of my life, I was still a dreamer. Last night, I’d dreamt about him and me. And we’d been happy. So happy. I’d dreamt about us making dinner in a normal kitchen, in a normal house, and we’d been leading a normal life. He’d come up behind me and kissed my neck, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me close, as if he never wanted to let me go. Despite the fact that I knew it was a dream and it would never be anything more, I couldn’t shake the feeling that . . .

We could have been happy. In a different life, we really could have been.

He gripped my pants and yanked them down to my ankles, his hand immediately dipping between my legs to cup me. The second he closed his fingers over me, I moaned. The things he did to me . . . they were crazy. And addicting. And oh so dangerous.

Just like him.

He let go of me and undid his trousers, letting his pants hit the floor, too. Breaking the kiss off, he dropped to his knees in front of me. Gripping my hips, he stared at me. He’d never looked more vulnerable than he did now, kneeling at my feet. “I’m sorry I yelled, sweetheart. I’m sorry I got you in this mess, too.”

I’d never get sick of the way he said sweetheart. He could tell me the world was ending, but as long as he added on that sweetheart, his voice jagged on that second syllable, I wouldn’t even care. And that was the God’s honest truth, right there. “I know. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He pulled my panties down. “But I know how to make it better.”

He closed his mouth on me, not wasting a second before blowing my mind. He cupped my butt from behind with his big hands, holding me where he wanted me. I collapsed against the wall and let out a long, strangled moan, burying my hands in his thick hair. Lifting my leg, I rested it over his shoulder and rolled my hips in a figure-eight pattern, needing him to send me to heaven for a few minutes. Needing him to make me forget everything that had happened, and everything that would still happen.