Beautiful Broken Things (The Steel Legends Collection #1)

Chapter One

The Run

Anthony

I couldn’t tell you a single cartoon that played on Saturday mornings, but I understood the difference between a hollow point and a regular bullet by the time I was old enough to climb the steps of my school bus.

By junior high, I could identify unmarked police cars from a distance.

I also knew better than to speak to anyone in a suit or a uniform, and I knew which bags my dad put the good shit in, and which ones were mixed with Epsom salt.

I learned to keep my jacket in my backpack on weekends, along with a fabric softener sheet to dilute the harsh smell when dad cooked. It didn’t actually dilute the scent of meth, it just left me smelling like chemical soup with a hint of cashmere.

But when you’re used to certain scents, they become normal. Just like the motions of living such a chaos-driven life. I didn’t know enough about normal to dream about the things other children did. The Steel Disciples were my world. I was born into it, and it was really all I ever knew.

Until the night of the Ridin’ for Boobies run.

One of the club brothers, a guy named George, had an ol’ lady with breast cancer. So, one of our brilliant friends thought it would be slick to put together a run and hit as many strip joints as possible.

We had quite the pack that evening, since they opened that one to outsiders.

I wasn’t old enough to get into most of the joints, because I wouldn’t be twenty-one for another few months. Illinois was weird. Some clubs only required you to be eighteen for entry, others didn’t mind turning their heads for the right price.

We’d been to two of those already, when we hooked into a big parking lot with a sign that said The Pink Cabaret.

“I expect some top-notch twat with a name like this.” Our president, Mark, called to Montana, who cackled as he killed his engine.

I smirked listening to the two old timers cut up as we all stretched our legs and prepared to invade the place.

“I just need a drink.” Mak groaned, as he stretched and fell into place beside me.

“You woke up needing a drink,” I pushed at his upper arm.

“You would, too, if you woke up next to the face I did. That woman is still pissed over the last run.”

I snorted and shook my head, “I don’t know why you two stay together, anyways, man. You must get hard off that fighting shit. I don’t know how you do it. I can’t with all that noise.”

They were toxic with a capital T, but you couldn’t tell either one of them that. As bad as they fought, they clung to each other. Always had, probably always would. I had enough chaos in my head without suffering that kind of situationship.

The foyer of the Pink Cabaret was as dark as the parking lot was bright. The girl at the counter actually took the time to carefully squint at every ID. She flashed a timid, apologetic smile while passing mine back to me, and bashfully looking up.

“You really are 6’8”, huh?” she squeaked.

“Guess so.” I sighed, taking the card back and shoving it into my wallet.

Big Vick swallowed a laugh and clapped me on the shoulder, ushering me toward the show room.

“This is my favorite place, wait ‘til you see the little blonde broad.” He carried on, one hand hooked over my shoulder and dangling above the patch on my chest.

The other came up in a fist as he surveyed the room, only to jab a finger out at the tiniest stripper I’d ever laid eyes on. She was like five foot nothing in stilettos, but those fucking eyes.

Goddamn, she met my gaze, and I wasn’t just struck, I couldn’t move or breathe.

Big Vick gave a bawdy laugh, as he nudged me out of it and steered me toward a table, fanning at the girl as we moved.

“Dude, what the fuck? Be cool.” I spat, clearing my throat.

This only seemed to further his amusement, “Yeah, I knew that was your flavor, brother. I just knew.”

I plucked a chair out and took a seat, without letting her out of my sight.

She looked like something off a magazine; everything about her was delicate and girly. Her eyes, though…

Goddamn, they were dangerous, and that blonde hair made my fingers curl just watching it bounce around her shoulders as she approached our table.

“You kept your promise.” She sounded surprised, and judging from the gorgeous smile that split her angelic features, It was clear she was happy to see him.

“This your ol’ lady?” I huffed, under my breath.

“I don’t have one of those,” he reminded me, as he took a seat beside me.

The smell that girl carried with her, when she shifted her gaze between us, and slid a long, manicured nail along the edge of the table stole every ounce of my attention.

“You brought a friend.” I’d been so hypnotized by her perfectly manicured, claw-shaped nails, that I’d lost track of her, until the other hand teased along my shoulder and playfully swiped at the column of my neck.

“I sure did, Doll. This is Anthony. Ant, this is Jade.”

“Jade,” I spat the name out, rejecting it on instinct alone.

She wasn’t a Jade. That was what they called her; the men who paid her to dance, and thirsted after her for five minutes in the champagne room.

I wasn’t them.

I wanted to pin her down and learn every truth she had, starting with her name. I didn’t wait for him to distract her, or someone else to call for her; I reached out like we were in one of those low-end, ‘hole in the wall’ places back home.

She didn’t get loud, but the fear that registered in her crystal-blue eyes when I snagged her by the wrist left me instinctively reaching to sweep the hair from her face with twice the questions.

“Easy,” Big Vick growled.

“Oh, n-no. We’re fine here.” Jade spoke fast, her hand coming out past my shoulder.

My attention snapped after it, and the size and number of the shadows behind me sent me into action before I’d even fully confronted the men.

“What the fuck?” The words flew from me, as I shoved her between me and Vick and stood up to face the two bouncers that were already within arm’s reach.

“Hey, no,” she pleaded, her nails digging into my arm and drawing my attention back to that beautiful face. “They were just making sure I was in good hands.”

Her soft touch grazed my chin and slid up to palm my face the way I had hers, and I swear to fuck, nothing in that room existed but the angel in front of me.

She flashed a smile that could have lured the devil himself and let go of my arm. That girl grazed her nails up my chest and froze just beneath my neck like it killed her to stop.

It definitely did me.

I didn’t even realize I was turning to glare at the bouncers, until her nails pressed into my shirt and flesh. The hand at my face firmed, forcing me to look back into her pleading, blue eyes.

The rowdiness of the place instantly died down.

An awkward laugh sounded and a short man in a suit hurried toward us, fanning various bouncers away as he drew closer.

“A misunderstanding! A misunderstanding, friends! Please, a round on me. Hmm?” he snapped and some girls hurried over to take our order. “Jade will dance for you now.”

He plucked her away from me and pushed her toward the stage. She didn’t hesitate, but that didn’t stop him from looking back at her like she was dragging ass.

“Right now!” he growled.

I didn’t know this girl from anyone, but the terror in her eyes was something I’d recognize anywhere; I was raised by a battered woman.

“Sit down, son,” Vick grunted, tugging on the chain to my wallet a little.

I glanced down at it and shoved my wallet into my back pocket and reluctantly took a seat.

“Let me tell the bartender that you gentlemen drink for free the rest of the night,” the suit stammered, when I kept glaring at him.

He backed away with another awkward chuckle and hurried toward the bar.

Vick cackled like it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen in years.

“Jesus. You’re half fuckin’ grizzly bear over her already, look at you,” he teased me.

“Fuck off,” I hissed, but what could I say, I was already searching the crowd for her again.

“You don’t even recognize her, do you?” Vick laughed.

My attention snapped toward him, my gaze narrowing in demand of an explanation.

“That’s fuckin’ Crystal Nance. Her momma rents that trailer across from C.C. Henshaw’s place. You don’t remember little Crystal? She fuckin’ ran away at what… fifteen or sixteen, it’s been a few years ago, but still?”

I raised my brows and shifted my head.

“I see her sometimes when I’m in town, here at the club I mean. I like to watch her dance.”

“So, you know her?”

He shoved his lips down and shrugged, “Nah, I just watch her dance, man. She’s fuckin’ beautiful, ain’t she?”

“She talks to you, though?”

He laughed and slapped at my arm, “For fuck’s sake.

Enjoy the show and settle down. No, I don’t talk to her like that.

I pretend not to recognize her, but I know it’s her.

My little brother has been in love with that girl and has been too afraid to say boo ever since he was small.

I’d know her anywhere. She’s a good girl. ”