Chapter Fifteen
Steel
It’s been five days since I’d had Leah under me, since I’d felt her mouth on mine and her breath break apart when I pushed in deep. Five days since she stormed out of the clubhouse cursing me and wishing she’d never met me.
God, I love her fire.
It wasn’t just the sex. But fuck me, I can still feel the way she’d trembled, the way she’d moaned, and her pussy gripped my cock like it didn’t want to let go.
I’d told her no after. I felt like a fucking bastard.
I wasn’t lying, Christmas is for my daughter.
But the main problem was I hadn’t figured out how we were gonna do this.
I wanted her for my queen. She was born to be at my side.
But wanting Leah Harris and having her accepted in my world were two different things.
Sure I’m Prez and what I say goes, but my men respect me, and taking an enemy’s daughter into my bed was the best damn way of losing that.
One time. That was all it took.
Addictive didn’t even cover it. Leah was like the first drag of a cigarette after you’d gone too long without one. Like whiskey when you’d promised yourself you were done. I didn’t want a little. I didn’t want reasonable. I wanted her until she stopped being a thought I had to fight.
And that was the problem.
My world wasn’t gentle. My world didn’t do soft endings. It did consequences. It did blood on knuckles and bodies in ditches and men looking you in the eye while they lied.
Leah had to understand that if she was gonna be anywhere near me—if she was gonna be anywhere near all of it.
Still… I’d been an asshole.
I roll my shoulders and stare at the room we hold church in. It isn’t quiet. It’s the largest room in the clubhouse with a scarred table, worn chairs, and a huge map on the wall showing Steel Riders territory, just in case anyone forgets what we do it for.
I sit at the head of the table. Edge is at my right, my VP as steady as stone.
Snake is sitting with his head in his hands and a mug of too strong coffee in front of him.
I’d called church unexpectedly, and half of my men are still trying to shake off last night’s excesses.
Cipher is hunched over a laptop that never leaves his hands, his eyes flicking between code and the room.
Pops looks bright eyed and fucking bushy-tailed, though at nearing sixty he’s already done most of his partying.
Brick and Shadow lean back, the club enforcers on opposite sides like they’re bookends made of violence.
Tracker has that quiet hunter look, always watching.
Titan takes up too much chair, too much space, too much of everything, his arms crossed like a wall.
They’re all waiting to see why I’d called the meeting so suddenly.
With what’s been happening in our town they expect the worst.
And yeah, even though Leah Harris is on my mind, she isn’t the main reason I called church. It’s her fucking father.
“Alright,” I say, my voice carrying without me needing to push it. The room settles. “Church.”
Chairs creak. I wait until everyone settles down. When you run a club, you learn real quick the difference between men listening and men hearing.
“We got problems,” I start. “Same ones, just closer.”
Edge’s gaze cuts to me, a quick check-in.
He already knows. He’s been on my ass for days about Harris, about the way the man is moving through Helena like it belongs to him.
Which technically speaking, as mayor, it does.
Donovan Harris has money, lawyers, and connections in Jacksonville.
The kind of reach that doesn’t need a gun to ruin you.
Paper can be a weapon if you know where to aim it.
He’s already targeted some of the brothers and people associated with the club.
I’d heard on the grapevine he’d been sniffing around The Canteen, and I didn’t like it one bit.
Snake flips his ledger open. “Town council meeting got moved up,” he says. “Harris pushed for it.”
“Of course he did,” Pops mutters into his coffee. “That man’s like mold. Shows up where you don’t want him and spreads.”
Cipher doesn’t look up from his screen. “He’s made deposits into five accounts recently. Three shell corps, two nonprofits. All tied back to the same law office in Jacksonville.”
“Clean?” Shadow asks.
Brick’s mouth twitches. “He’s laundering his own bullshit to make it look pretty.”
“It’s not who he’s paying, it’s why. Tell us what you found,” I say, gesturing at Cipher.
“Nothing certain. But one of the club girls has a friend who works at city hall. Apparently, Harris has been accessing land reports for the plot The Canteen’s on,” our resident IT genius says.
That gets everyone’s attention.
He continues. “He’s also been looking into re-zoning applications.”
I pick up where he left off. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but I wouldn’t put it past the asshole to think up new and interesting ways to fuck with our lives.
I’ve already spoken to Hecker. Told him that he better be following the letter of the law until we find out what Harris is up to.
Don’t want The Canteen getting closed down due to noise violations or shit like that. ”
“We got word this morning,” Edge says, his voice flat. “Another eviction notice.”
The room tightens. That’s new.
“Who?” I ask.
“Rita McKenna,” Edge replies. “Over on Alder. Breaker’s widow. Lives alone. Been there twenty years.”
That name hits the room like a thrown bottle. Breaker had been one of the first members. An older man who rode hard and lived harder. Pops sits up straighter, the lines deepening around his mouth.
“Rita?” he says, like the word tastes wrong. “That woman’s been there since my kids were in diapers.”
“Notice says property’s been sold,” Edge continues. “New owners want renovations. She’s got thirty days.”
Brick’s hands flex once, slow. Shadow’s eyes go colder. Titan’s jaw clenches hard enough I hear his teeth grind.
I feel something snap tight in my chest.
“Personal,” I say.
“Yeah,” Pops agrees. “That’s personal.”
Because it isn’t just about some building or some land. It’s about the kind of town Helena is. People don’t get shoved out by suits with Jacksonville money. Not while we’re breathing.
“Rita’s been good to us,” Titan says quietly. “She fed half the prospects in this club when they were too broke to buy their own damn groceries.”
Edge nods. “She called me crying. Didn’t know who else to call.”
“If the club don’t have any spare properties she can stay with me and my old lady until she gets herself back on her feet. That place you found us is plenty big,” Snake offers.
“Thanks, brother,” I say. I glare at the table like it holds all the fucking answers in the world. This club doesn’t exist to play hero, but it does exist to protect what’s ours. Helena’s ours. The people in it—our people—were ours to look out for.
Harris stepping on that widow? That isn’t business. That’s him testing us.
Seeing if we’ll take it.
“We’re not gonna take this shit,” I say.
Nobody argues.
Snake clears his throat. “If we lean too hard, it’ll bring heat.”
“We’re already warm,” Shadow says. “Let it fucking burn.”
Brick grunts in approval.
Cipher finally looks up. “If we want to hurt him without bullets, we can. If he’s getting his fingers dirty, I can pull records and connect the dots. But I’d need time and access.”
“What about his daughter?” Wolf asks. “That girl’s smokin’. Maybe I can persuade her to snoop on daddy dearest and get my dick wet at the same time.”
I have to fight the urge to smack his fucking head, instead I growl, “Leah is off limits.”
Then Edge leans closer, his voice lower, just for me. “You talk to her yet?”
My gut tightens at her name. Even hearing it in this room makes it feel like someone has cracked a window in the middle of a storm.
“I’m working on it,” I say.
Edge’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Steel.”
I hate when he uses my name like that. Like he’s pulling me back to the present with it.
“What?” I snap, then force my tone down. I’m Prez. I don’t get to be sharp for no reason. “What do you want from me?”
Edge is steady. “Has she agreed to spy for the club?”
“She hasn’t agreed,” I say. “Not yet.” They don’t need to know that she did agree. Then I messed it up, and now I doubt she’d piss on me if I was on fire.
“You losin’ your charm?” Snake asks, with a smirk. “We need eyes inside Harris’ circle. You said she could be it.”
I’d said a lot of things. Mostly to convince myself I was in control.
“I’m working on it,” I mutter.
“Ginger said she saw her storming out the clubhouse last week,” Brick adds.
I meet Brick’s gaze. “The girl is… complicated.”
Shadow’s mouth curls slightly. “Complicated usually means trouble.”
“Trouble’s what we do,” Titan rumbles.
A few low chuckles move through the room. Not because it’s funny—because it’s true.
Edge doesn’t smile. He leans back and says, “You’re close to her.”
I don’t answer fast enough.
That’s answer enough.
Silence stretches again, heavier this time. The club can smell weakness the way dogs smell fear. It isn’t that they’d turn on you. It’s that they’d adjust. Protect the club from whatever had gotten under the Prez’s skin… And Leah is under mine.
I can still smell her scent on my pillow. Still taste her on my tongue. Sweet. God, she was sweet. And I’m the kind of man who ruins sweet things by touching them. I force my hands to unclench. “She’ll come around,” I say. “Harris ain’t stopping. Leah can help end it without blood.”
Snake mutters, “Or she can get us killed.”
“She won’t,” I answer, too sharp, too fast.
Inside, something claws.
Because the truth is, I don’t just want her help. I want her. I want the way she softens the edges of me without even trying. I want the way she looks at me like I could be more than the worst parts of my world.
That kind of want is dangerous. It makes you careless, and I’m not a careless man. Not when men’s lives depend on me.
I drag the meeting back on track, my voice firm. “Alright. Rita McKenna. We handle it clean. No unnecessary violence. We make it known that Alder Street is off-limits. Anybody who bought property there deals with the people already livin’ in it. Nobody gets pushed out.”
Shadow’s eyes gleam. “How known?”
“Known,” I say. “Brick, Shadow—you go talk to whoever served that notice. Find out what office, what name’s on it. Make the message clear.”
Brick nods once. Shadow’s grin is all teeth.
“Tracker,” I continue, “I want eyes on Harris’ people. Who’s comin’ into town, who’s leavin’, who’s meeting who. No hero shit. Just info. See if you can find out why he’s so interested in The Canteen.”
Tracker nods.
“Titan,” I say, “you take two prospects and make a presence around Alder. Not threatening. Just… seen. Folks need to remember the Riders are still here.”
Titan’s grin is slow. “I can do seen.”
I assign the rest of the tasks and finish up with the bit I’ve been putting off. “Edge, you’re with me.”
Edge’s eyebrows rise slightly. “For what?”
I swallow the urge to say her name like it’s a confession. “Leah.”
Edge studies me a beat longer, then nods. “Alright.”
After everyone files out, I sit there a second longer, listening to the clubhouse outside our meeting room. Loud music thumping somewhere down the hall, someone laughing, a bike revving in the lot, the steady heartbeat of the place.
Edge lurks in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice neutral.
“Sure,” I say. “Just peachy.”
Edge’s mouth twitches. “Didn’t think so.”
I stare at my hands on the table. Big hands. Scarred knuckles. Hands that had held Leah like she was something precious and not just something to take.
“I didn’t handle things the best I could,” I admit. “She agreed to help us, but when I told her we couldn’t be seen together she verbally tore my balls off and stuffed them down my fucking throat.”
Edge snorts. “It wasn’t smart.”
“I know. But it’s the truth. If she spies for us, then we need our story straight. Harris is smart. You don’t get to his position without being able to read people and use it to your advantage.”
“So why’re you beatin’ yourself up?”
Because she’d looked at me like she’d expected better. Because I’d wanted to be better for her. Because a few days without her had felt like withdrawal. Because I’d only had her once and already my body didn’t feel like mine when I thought of her. Pick any, or all of the above…
“I don’t want to ruin her.”
Edge’s eyes sharpen. “You already got your hands on her. That ship sailed long ago.”
I flinch at the truth.
“She’s sweet,” I say, my voice rough. “Too sweet for MC life.”
Edge’s gaze softens, just a fraction. “Sweet don’t mean weak. Look at your daughter. Pity the man who ever tries to make her his queen.”
“No,” I agree. “It means… tempting.”
Edge gives a low laugh. “You’re fuckin’ gone.”
I shoot him a look.
He holds up a hand. “Not judging. Just stating fact. But if you’re gonna use her for intel, you better make damn sure you’re not just using her.”
My throat works. “I’m not.”
But I’d be lying if I said the club wasn’t part of it. Leah could open doors we couldn’t. Harris wouldn’t sit down with patched men.
And I hate that I need her like that.
Edge stands. “We go see her today?”
“No,” I answer immediately, like my body decided before my head could. Then I force myself to breathe. “Not today. Let’s find out what he’s up to first.”
Edge nods, satisfied, then pauses at the door. “One more thing.”
“What?”
“If she says no,” he starts, “what do you do?”
I stare at the wall past him, at the faded banner, at the patch that owned my spine. My club. My responsibility.
And then I see Leah’s face in my mind again—her eyes defiant as she flipped me off and stormed out of my room, and I felt the crack in me widen.
“If she says no,” I say slowly, “I’ll still keep her safe.”