He dragged her into his arms and pressed her face tightly against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, so steady, so strong. She couldn’t help herself, just for that moment she needed his strength, or she wasn’t going to get through what had to be done. Most of the time, she’d learn to push the terror to the back of her mind, so she could function, but at times like this, it pushed through the gates and took her over. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed.
She hated that the others were silent witnesses of her breakdown. Steele kept her wrapped up tight in his arms, but walked her away from the house, down a little path that meandered through an overgrown garden. Through blurry vision, she could see the neat little pavers that made up the trail through vines climbing up and over archways and a mixture of grasses warring for room in a variety of colors of green, blue and even pink.
“I’m sorry.” She hiccupped. Tried to pull herself together. His arms were strong. His body warm. It was impossible not to cling even when she’d promised herself she wouldn’t—not ever again.
He stopped in the middle of a round circle, surrounded by neatly carved wooden benches and covered with a small roof so one could sit, even in the rain. Roses of several varieties were planted around the little sitting area. Climbing roses, tree roses and bush roses, all different colors, some exotic. The place was ringed and shielded by very large grasses, tall ones, that made the area extremely private.
“Bree, you have every right to fall apart. I feel like falling apart.”
“But you don’t. You hold it together.” She detested that she couldn’t stop weeping and he was so stoic.
“Only because I’ve had a lot more practice shutting off emotion when I need to. You’re supposed to be emotional. You give that love to him openly. You make him feel it. I know you, sweetheart. You always were good at that. Every child in the Swords club felt it from you, and they needed it. I know Zane felt it every minute of his existence. He’ll feel it again because, baby, I swear to you, nothing will stop me from getting him back for us.”
She believed him. She had to believe him, or she was going to lose her mind. She let herself cry it out because no matter how hard she tried to stop, she couldn’t close the door on terror. She had to take back control one minute at a time until she managed to find a way to breathe again.
Very slowly she became aware she was clutching his jacket in her fists. His colors. She had the leather bunched tightly. Immediately she let go and tried to step back. “I’m such a mess, Steele, but I can do this. I just get so scared sometimes, afraid for him. Bridges isn’t a good man. Unfortunately, Junk follows in his footsteps. My hope is, Bridges hates being around children so much he’ll have someone else watching Zane.”
She stepped back, and he let her, his arms falling to his sides. She turned away before he could see her red, swollen face. She wasn’t a pretty crier. She’d read about women who wept in front of men and just looked all the more beautiful. That wasn’t her. She pushed at her hair, hoping she didn’t have helmet hair. It shouldn’t matter how she looked, not when her son was missing, but this was Steele. Her Steele. He’d crawled out from under three women and she could describe each of them. They didn’t look anything like her with her red face, swollen eyes, messy hair and stretch marks.
“I’m counting on you. I know you’re tenacious. I know once you make up your mind, you won’t stop. I’ll help. I won’t keep falling apart.” It had happened every hour the first day. Then she’d managed to let it happen only at night. She hadn’t thought she’d have a complete breakdown in front of him.
“Stop apologizing, Bree. I would think it was strange if you didn’t have a meltdown once in a while. Just take some deep breaths and we’ll go join the others and come up with a plan to get our son back. You’ll love Blythe, Czar’s old lady. She’s an amazing woman.”
She needed him to keep talking so she could get herself under control; hopefully the cool air would help with the results of her loud, noisy, sobbing. “Tell me about her.” She walked to the very edge of the circle and pretended to examine a particularly large rose.
“We were hitting the Swords’ traveling prostitution houses. They would set up with the girls they kidnapped. Some were ‘trained’ right there, gangbanged and beat. We divided into two teams. Czar took one out and I took another. We’d hit as many of the chapter’s houses as possible and shut them down. Czar’s team hit a group that had several young girls being trained. One had fought back hard because her little sister was there. He had a feeling about them. Not all kids have homes. Blythe looked them up later and found them in foster homes. There were the two girls and a younger sister who hadn’t been there. Czar and Blythe adopted them.”
She swung around, forgetting all about her tear-stained, swollen face. “The Swords ‘trained’ kidnapped young girls?”
“For human trafficking,” he said. “I told you, they had the biggest ring going that anyone knows of, worldwide.”
“No. You said the international president did. You said he had freighters for his clients.” She could barely breathe all over again. “The Swords run drugs and guns. They force their women to sleep with other clubs to make alliances. A lot of the women are prostitutes for the club and they do it willingly, but no one ever said a word about kidnapping children.”
“You knew some of the women were sold to other clubs. Your father threatened to sell you,” Steele pointed out.
It wasn’t the same thing. How could she make that distinction to him? “To other chapters. I was born into the club. We’re considered club property. That isn’t the same thing as kidnapping a child outside the club and selling their body to the highest bidder.” She was outraged. Sick. Was her father involved? He was scum—she knew that. She knew he considered women to be far less than him, but would he really kidnap an innocent child and force her into sexual slavery?
“Baby.” Steele’s voice was very gentle. “Just because you were born into the life doesn’t give anyone the right to use you or sell you. When you wear my colors proclaiming you’re mine, it means I take care of you. That you’re protected, not only by me, but by every one of my brothers and sisters. It means I’m responsible for you and willing to take on that responsibility. It means you’re loved and that everything I do, I do with you in mind.”
She turned away again, not wanting him to see her face. He was too good at reading her expression. She couldn’t respond to that. It was too dangerous. That was for fairy tales, not real life. She knew better than to dream. To trust him. To trust any club.
“These girls …”
“Darby, Zoe and Emily. Darby is the oldest and she’s been through hell. Zoe is still fragile and probably always will be. She was so traumatized she barely talks, although I think she feels safe with all of us now and she’s happy. She doesn’t like leaving the farm, but she goes to visit Blythe’s sisters who have their own homes on the farm. They aren’t sisters by blood, but she regards them that way and the children think of them as aunts.”
“I don’t know what to say, Steele. How are they going to feel with me being the daughter of a member of the Swords? Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
She needed a little time to process the facts he was giving her. She could tell he wasn’t lying to her and it fit, now that she had time to put together some of the behavior she’d noticed that hadn’t made sense years earlier. Small things. Snippets of conversations hastily shut down when she was close. Her father suddenly furious and then smug.
“You were victimized just the way they were, Bree,” Steele said. “Blythe hadn’t even accepted Czar back into her life all the way and we brought home Kenny. We’d made a run to stop a pedophile we’d heard about and found him chained in the basement with nowhere to go when we freed him. We brought him home to Blythe. She took him in immediately.”
She was beginning to think Blythe wasn’t real. She couldn’t equate a woman like the one he talked about with her measure of Czar—or any club man for that matter. And for Czar to take those children in … Breezy shook her head, rejecting the idea that the man could do anything decent.