Chapter 7 - Steel
I stride down the hallway toward the meeting room, jaw clenched so tight my teeth might crack. It's been four hours since I woke to find Holly gone, whisked away by Luna before we could properly talk about last night.
Four hours of security checks, perimeter sweeps, and strategic planning with Tank while my mind was half elsewhere, wondering where she was, what she was thinking, if she regretted everything.
Four hours of hearing bits and pieces about James Mercer's morning tantrum, his threats to go to the cops, and worst of all, his public announcement that his sister had slept with me.
The knowledge that he'd made Holly's private business club fodder makes my hands itch to finish what Beast started with the worthless piece of shit.
King's text came ten minutes ago: "Church. Now."
Our code for mandatory club meetings. Whatever's being decided about the Mercers, I need to be there to make sure Holly's interests are protected. Her brother can rot for all I care, but Holly deserves better than to be punished for his stupidity.
I push through the double doors of the meeting room to find King alone, sitting at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. No other members are present, which is unusual for church.
"Close the door," he says, not looking up from the papers in front of him.
I comply, my guard immediately up. One-on-one meetings with King usually mean either a special assignment or you're in deep shit. Given the events of the past twenty-four hours, I'm betting on the latter.
"Sit," he says, finally looking up.
I take my usual chair. "Where is everyone else?"
"This meeting is just for us," King replies, leaning back in his chair. "We need to talk about the Mercer situation."
I nod. "The brother's a liability."
"Yes, he is." King's piercing blue eyes study me. "But that's not the only complication, is it?"
Here it comes. I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to look away or appear ashamed. "If you're talking about Holly, yes. We slept together last night."
"Jesus Christ, Steel." King shakes his head, disappointment evident in his tone. "Of all the women you could have fucked, you chose the sister of a man who owes us money? A civilian with no connection to club life? A virgin?"
That last part makes me flinch. "How did you—"
“James Mercer was quite vocal about his sister's virtue being taken by, and I quote, 'that mechanic bastard.'"
Fury boils in my gut. That piece of shit actually told the whole club his sister had been a virgin? What kind of brother does that?
"It wasn't planned," I say, struggling to keep my voice level. "It just happened."
King barks out a laugh. "It just happened? What are you, sixteen? You're a patched member of this club. Nothing 'just happens.' You make choices, and those choices have consequences for all of us."
"I know that," I reply, frustration edging my tone. "But last night was different. She was different."
"Fuck. You actually care about this girl, don't you?"
I don't answer immediately. Do I care about Holly? The woman I've known for less than twenty-four hours? The woman whose body I know more intimately than her mind? The woman who trusted me completely, who came apart in my arms, who looked at me with such openness it physically hurt?
"Yes," I finally admit, accepting the truth. "I care about her."
King sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "That complicates things."
"How?" I challenge. "Her brother's the problem, not her."
"Because now your judgment is compromised," King points out. "And because the Iron Eagles will use her against you if they get the chance."
The thought of Holly in Vulture's hands makes my blood run cold. "They won't get that chance."
"Bold statement, considering they almost killed both of you last night." King leans forward, his expression deadly serious. "Vulture's not playing games anymore, Steel. Not after what happened when he attacked the clubhouse and we killed everyone."
"We should have finished him when we had the chance," I mutter, a rare admission of bloodthirst from me.
"Agreed. But now we're dealing with the consequences." King slides a folder across the table to me. "Tank's intel. Vulture's been recruiting again, pulling in members from smaller clubs, promising them territory and power."
I flip open the folder, scanning the information. Surveillance photos, membership estimates, weapons acquisitions. "He's rebuilding fast."
"And he's out for blood," King confirms. "Our blood, specifically. Tank's source says he's planning to pick us off one by one, away from the clubhouse. Isolated hits."
The implications are clear. "That's why he targeted me at Mercer's place. Not random."
"Exactly. You were the first on his list because you're usually alone." King's gaze is pointed. "You're the one who repairs bikes all over town. You're the one who isn't always armed to the teeth. You're vulnerable."
I bristle at the suggestion. "I can handle myself."
"I know you can. That's why you're still breathing. But Vulture will try again, and next time he might use Holly as bait."
The thought makes my stomach turn. "So, what's the plan?"
"For now, no one leaves the compound alone. All collections, all business, all repairs, everything happens with at least one other member as backup." King taps the folder. "We're also accelerating our timeline for dealing with Vulture permanently."
This catches my attention. We've been planning to eliminate the Iron Eagles completely, but logistics and timing have been complicated. "How soon?"
"Two days. Torch is finalizing the explosives. Beast and Tank are handling the ambush details. Rage is confirming Vulture's movements." King pins me with his gaze.
Frustration rises in me. "What about me? I'm benched? While everyone else risks their necks?"
"Not benched. Reassigned." King slides another folder toward me. "You're on protection detail. For the Mercers."
I stare at him, not sure whether to be relieved or insulted. "You're making me a babysitter?"
"I'm making you responsible for the civilians you brought into our war," he corrects me sharply. "The girl trusts you. The brother fears you. Use that."
I open the second folder to find details on a safe house outside of town. Remote, defensible, off the grid. "You're sending us away from the clubhouse?"
"It's safer for everyone," King explains. "If Vulture focuses his attention here, you'll be out of the line of fire. If he somehow tracks you to the safe house, the club won't be compromised."
It's logical. Strategic. And it means days alone with Holly, which sends conflicting emotions through me, anticipation and dread in equal measure.
"What about after?" I ask. "Assuming we eliminate Vulture and the Eagles. What happens to Holly and her brother then?"
"That depends. The brother still owes us money. And the sister..." He pauses. "What do you want to happen with her, Steel?"
It's a loaded question, one I'm not prepared to answer. Last night was incredible, life-changing even. But can I offer Holly anything real? Anything lasting? Do I even have the right to try, given what I am, what I've done?
"I don't know," I admit finally. "But I want her to have options. Real ones, not just running back to picking up her brother's pieces."
King nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Fair enough. For now, focus on keeping them alive until we deal with Vulture. We'll figure out the rest after."
I rise to leave, but King stops me with a raised hand. "One more thing. The brother knows too much now. About our operations and members. If he ever threatens to go to the cops again..."
He doesn't need to finish the sentence. We both know what happens to threats against the club. I nod once, acknowledging the unspoken directive.
"I'll make sure he understands," I promise.
"See that you do." King returns his attention to the papers before him. "Luna's got Holly in the kitchen. The brother's in his room, presumably nursing his wounded pride and face. You leave for the safe house at nightfall."
I head for the door, my mind already racing with preparations, but King's voice stops me one more time.
"Steel," he says, his tone softer now. "Be careful with the girl. If you care about her like you say, remember that our world breaks civilians. Especially the good ones."
His words follow me out into the hallway, echoing what I already know but don't want to face.
Holly is good. Pure in a way that has nothing to do with virginity and everything to do with her heart.
And men like me, men who live and die by violence and loyalty to an outlaw code, we destroy that kind of goodness eventually.
But as I head toward the kitchen, toward Holly, I make a silent vow. Not this time. Not her. Whatever it takes, I won't let our world break Holly Mercer. Even if that means letting her go when this is all over.
The smell of coffee guides me to the kitchen, where I pause in the doorway, taking a moment to observe unnoticed.
Holly sits at the table with Luna, a half-eaten plate of food in front of her, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
Even in borrowed clothes, with dark circles under her eyes and worry etched on her features, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
And last night, she was mine. The memory of her beneath me, around me, coming apart at my touch, sends heat through my body. But it's not just lust that tightens my chest as I watch her. It's something deeper, far more dangerous. Something that feels disturbingly like the beginning of love.
I clear my throat, and both women look up. Luna offers a knowing smile, while Holly's expression cycles rapidly through surprise, wariness, and something that might be hope.
"Steel," Luna acknowledges, rising smoothly from her seat. "Perfect timing. I was just leaving."
Holly's eyes widen slightly. "You were?"
"Yes," Luna says, gathering her coffee mug. "I need to check on King."