Chapter 12
Steel didn’t know how long he stood over Shaw’s corpse before he realized that Scar was standing next to him. There was no relief, no feeling of accomplishment as he stared down at the man who’d killed—or who he thought had killed—his daughter?
No, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Shaw had stalked Melanie.
They had proof of that. It would have been around the time that Jack from the Mountain Mutineers had had his people on her, which was reason enough as to why Shaw hadn’t attacked her then.
But the look in Shaw’s eyes as he died…?
It was malicious, full of joy at the knowledge that his death wasn’t the end of Steel’s torment.
It had been thirty years since Steel had been face to face with Shaw.
He had no idea if his former classmate and friend was that good of an actor.
It was possible, sure. Especially after spending time in the Agency.
Who was Tracy Marigold? Was she even a real person?
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Griffin Shaw was dead.
Melanie’s murderer was dead. Steel could rest now.
He could… Steel had no idea what he could do, but his mission was over.
Returning to Mount Grove, to the house where Melanie had gone through her teen years, seemed so empty. But he needed to.
And Jenna… He’d fucked up royally with her.
His quest for vengeance had taken him from her in her biggest time of need.
There’d been gaps of time in his military career when he hadn’t been able to communicate with her.
Especially before email and video calls were commonly used, or even invented, but this was different.
This had been a choice. His choice, and one that he couldn’t even blame on Shaw.
Shaw hadn’t kidnapped Steel, hadn’t forced him away from Jenna. Steel had left on his own. Jenna was owed better, she deserved better.
Yet Steel’s feet weren’t moving. The sun had risen and Shaw was finally dead. Steel could go home… Except he wasn’t.
It wasn’t until a cool drizzle started to fall through the hole in the ceiling that Steel finally moved.
Standing here over Shaw’s corpse did him nothing.
His first call should be to Keys, to figure out who Tracy Marigold was or if Shaw had just pulled a random name out of his ass to further Steel’s suffering.
He knew Steel well enough to know that Steel wouldn’t let something like that go. He needed to be sure. He needed to know that he got the right guy, that the right person suffered for Melanie’s cruel death.
But as he turned his phone on for the first time in weeks, his fingers dialed a different number like they had a mind of their own.
In the rain, he put the device to his ear and listened to the monotone rings as he waited for her to pick up.
For a moment, he was sixteen again, impatiently waiting for her to get to her phone just so he could hear her voice.
It had always been his homing beacon. Maybe that was why he hadn’t reached out until now.
If he heard it, he would have gone running home before he could fulfill his promise to kill Shaw for murdering Melanie.
“Hello?”
A wave washed over him. It wasn’t soothing, per se, not like her voice usually was. He wasn’t burning and in need of a salve. He wasn’t cold and in need of warmth. But her voice, even that single word fit him, like he’d left a piece of him with her.
Steel wasn’t complete without Jenna in his life. Even forty years later, that knowledge shouldn’t shock him.
“Baby.”
He heard her shuddering breath, and then, “Jack. Baby, where are you?”
Steel’s eyes landed on Shaw’s rain-speckled form at his feet. “I can’t tell you that.” He wanted none of this to touch her. His darkness craved her light like flora craved the sun. He needed her to survive… But did she need him? He needed her light, but that meant corrupting her with his darkness.
“Can you…” Her voice trailed off as she hesitated. “Is it done?”
Droplets of rain started to fall off him and onto Shaw’s still form.
He opened his mouth to say that it was, that he’d done what he’d set out to do, that he was coming home and would never leave her again…
But the words caught in his throat. He’d vowed years ago to always tell Jenna the truth.
The good, the bad, and the ugly. There were things he couldn’t tell her, and as a military wife, she understood that.
But he never lied. He never told her one thing to cover up another.
She knew when she couldn’t be told something, and she was also smart enough not to ask questions that she knew he couldn’t answer.
“I don’t know,” he finally told her. “He’s dead but…
Something he said, Jen. At the end, just before he died, he said it wasn’t him.
He was…happy.” Steel shook his head, trying to shake the image of Shaw’s last moments.
“He could have just been fucking with me, getting in one last laugh, but…” Steel ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair.
Jenna was silent for a few seconds. “You believe him, don’t you? You think he didn’t do it.”
Steel shook his head even though she couldn’t see it. “No,” he said firmly. “But… I don’t know, baby. He’s dead. It should be over with.”
“But it doesn’t feel over with,” she continued for him.
Steel grimaced. “I need to know, baby. I need to know that I got him.” Or her, depending on who Tracy Marigold was. What if Shaw hadn’t been alone when he killed Melanie? What if he’d been behind the wheel, but Tracy Marigold had been the one to pull the trigger?
Then why give Steel Tracy’s name? It didn’t make sense. If Shaw had a partner, why give her up to Steel as his dying confession?
“Do what you need to do, Jack.”
He didn’t like how detached her voice was. Jenna had always worn her emotions on her sleeve. For her to be so mellow… She didn’t sound like her. Then again, there was a good chance Steel didn’t sound like himself either.
He wanted to ask her how she was, but that was a fucking stupid question. Their daughter had been murdered a month ago, and Steel had just told her that he may or may not have killed her murderer. Of course she wasn’t okay.
Instead, he asked, “What about you?”
Jenna was quiet for a long time. “I don’t matter right now. Do what you need to do to get the fucker and then come home to me. We’ll figure the rest—us—out later.”
Steel’s spine straightened, and he lifted his left hand slightly to look at the simple, gold wedding band on his third finger.
It was old, scratched, and in desperate need of a polish, but it was his.
A symbol of his love and devotion to his woman.
For the first time since he put it on when he was eighteen years old, he questioned its permanence.
“I love you,” he told her. It was beyond a vow and a promise. It was a fact, the only truth he knew in the darkness.
“I never doubted that, Jack. Please be safe.”
He nodded stiffly, making the raindrops stuck in his hair fall down the back of his neck. “Take care of yourself, Jen.”
She made a noncommittal noise and then hung up the call. Steel pocketed his phone. He could have continued to stand there, could have wallowed and let the worries of his future take over him, but he didn’t. He had a promise to keep.
Quitting was not an option. It never had been. He’d find out who the hell Tracy Marigold was, kill her too if needed, and then he’d figure out his future and his marriage.
The roar of motorcycles came around midnight. It was a ten-plus hour drive without stops, so they certainly made good time. Steel was sitting on the stairs outside the cabin’s only door. He had an Oscuro Maduro cigar in his mouth, but it wasn’t lit.
Despite the fact that he’d only called Keys, six motorcycles rolled up.
Keys’ souped-up van navigated the terrain more slowly, but also followed.
Steel knew Keys was careful and switched out the tires on his van often so the treads couldn’t be matched to multiple crime scenes.
He did something with the DMV records so his plate and registration could never be matched to him.
Scar walked down the stairs, ignoring his brothers dismounting off their sleds and walking straight for the van before it even stopped.
The passenger door opened, and Tally leapt out into his arms. Their kiss could have lit the forest on fire as Scar carried her off into the darkness, leaving the passenger door open as Keys continued to pull forward to park it.
Ghost, Bulldog, Ranger, Cage, Papaw, and Starbucks walked towards the stairs as a pack. Keys took a moment to grab his backpack before exiting the van and hurrying over to join them. It was dark out. The only illumination was the headlights from the van and the moon.
Steel removed his unlit cigar from his mouth and narrowed his eyes on the club’s youngest member. “I told you not to tell anyone else.”
Keys’ eyes went wide behind his glasses but he didn’t back down as he used to do. Instead, he straightened his spine and held his head up high. “You’re not my President anymore.”
No, he wasn’t. That man stepped forward now and placed his foot on the bottom step.
Leaning forward on his knee, Ghost narrowed his eyes on Steel.
“I let you steal Scar to do what you had to do. I understood. Hell, I approved. But there’s no way in fuck you’re involving Keys without filling the rest of us in. ”
Steel turned his attention to Ghost. “One of you could have come with him.”
“Like it or not, Steel, you’re one of us. Pretty sure you taught us that. Blood doesn’t make you family any more than a cut does.” Ghost stood up, crossing his arms over his chest but left his foot on the stair. “You have us and our support whether you want it or not.”
Steel looked around Ghost to where Ranger, Starbucks, Bulldog, Keys, Cage, and Papaw stood. He didn’t need proper lighting to see the determination on all of their faces. Melanie was his daughter, but they all loved her too.