Steel Heart: A Secret Baby Romance

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

SASHA

It had been along time since I was last in Steelbarrow. There was a time I used to call it home. There was a time I maybe even liked the place… as much as it could be liked.

But that all came to a screeching halt… and now here I was again. Complete circle. Right back where I started. Right back where Selah started, too, when she was still just a bundle of cells inside me.

I looked at The Road House from across the street. I was standing under a cone of light from a streetlight, where the taxi had dropped me off. I could hear the music even way out here, and every now and then somebody tumbled out, clearly drunk off their rocker.

Up the road, as well as down, it was dark and empty. The only place lighting up the area was The Bone Bit. There were lights that illuminated the parking lot, and there I saw a line of hogs out front that was basically a big warning sign to anybody unfamiliar with a biker clubhouse reading: f**k OFF.

It was intimidating, there was no doubt about it. Motorcycle clubs had a reputation — some of it was understandable. Hell, a lot of it was earned. But they weren’t all gangs, most of them weren’t. Most of them were just normal clubs where people who liked to ride congregated with like-minded folks.

But that’s not to say that The Road House didn’t have it’s dark history. That’s not to say that some of the reputation of the Steel Infidels wasn’t completely, one-hundred percent true. A lot of clubs had their roots, their history, in that darkness, in that lawlessness, that cowboy-esque recklessness.

Still, I liked the sight of so many bikes lined up. It looked cool as hell, if I was being honest. I’d always been drawn to this place. I crossed the street and then walked past the line of bikes, one by one, noting them. Many I recognized from back when I was a regular here. I knew the people they belonged to. Some were new, I didn’t recognize those.

And then I came to the bike I was looking for. His bike.

Well, s**t, I came all this way, I may as well go through with it, I thought to myself. No use getting cold feet now, even if you don’t want to see the prick. Even if you left because of him.

Selah needs you, and if you’re gonna do this, Sasha, you need him.

You need him.

I pushed the door open and walked inside the clubhouse. Instantly the smell brought me back in time. Leather, grease, smoke, and liquor, all intertwined into this unique smell that you’ll only fine in an MC clubhouse.

The place was absolutely throbbing. It was busy for a weeknight. Perhaps something had happened, some kind of event, I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

I scanned the crowd until I spotted him. He had his back to me but I’d recognize him any which way. It was the way he stood — tall, broad, a touch of playfulness to his body language that could get real serious and real mean in an instant.

Not mean to me… he was never mean to me in that way. But I’d seen some fools get on the wrong side of him before and that big, manly body got real scary real quickly. His dark blonde hair was just a touch disheveled, and paired with that deep tan he had, it gave him the look of someone who had seen some s**t. And he had. The tattoos that coiled around both of his arms were only accentuated by his tanned skin. I knew he thought they made hi look tougher than he was — hell, most guys thought that — but they looked good on him. He wore tattoos well. I mean, anybody with that body would.

I was still at the entrance and he was all the way at the bar. It was as though he sensed my presence, because his body stiffened and then he turned around. Our eyes met and, like once upon a time when I was a younger woman, I was jolted by the electricity of his gaze. I felt like I was drawn into his eyes, those light brown eyes that seemed to sparkle, like I was pulled into them as though he had a gravity to him, as though it were out of my control.

I stubbornly stayed rooted to the spot. I wasn’t going to give the prick the satisfaction. A smirk formed on his lips and he began to approach me. The girls between us parted in his presence, giving him a straight line walk to me.

As he drew closer to me that smirk no longer held any humor in it. No, it was just pure arrogance now. He probably thought I’d come running back to him. I searched his eyes for a flicker of anything more, but they were stoic and guarded.

The man had an uncanny way of hiding his emotions. I was typically pretty good at reading people, but he had always been difficult. When he wanted those doors shut, it was like trying to break into a bank vault.

“Tyson,” I said after I realized he wasn’t going to be the first one to speak. “We need to talk.”

“Let me guess,” he said without humor. “I ruined all other men for you and you’ve only just now realized it. No other man can satisfy you the way I can.” With an exaggerated motion, he adjusted his junk. I rolled my eyes.

“Still the same old Tyson, I see.”

It was the kind of thing he’d say, it was him alright. But it was said without the humorous bravado, the playful cockiness he used to have. No, the way he said it was ice cold.

“You think you changed me,” he said. “You hope.”

“I’m not here to talk about the past,” I told him. “I’m here to—”

“All we’ve got is the past, Sasha. You up and left five years ago, remember? You remember why you left? You remember how you left?”

He stepped closer to me, his eyes intensely on mine. I could smell him, his cologne, but him underneath it. I knew that smell intimately. He stepped closer again, and now I could feel his body heat. It was radiating off him in waves. I was familiar with this feeling, of this dizzying proximity. Why did he have this effect on me still?

“Of course I remember.”

“And now you’ve come crawling back.”

“You wish, Tyson, but it’s not like that.”

“No?” He stepped closer again. “You sure, Sasha?”

“You keep talking about how I left,” I said, deciding to bite back. “You still not over me? Thought a hot shot like you would’ve moved on by now.” I don’t truly know why I said it. I don’t know why I prodded, why he always seemed to get a rise out of me like that. I’d come here for the man’s help but all I wanted to do was be acerbic and snipe at him. He always brought that out of me. Tyson was love and hate, pleasure and pain, peace and chaos.

“Funny, I figured it was you who was not over me, and that’s why you’ve come back.”

“Figures you’d think that given the size of your ego.”

“Size matters, Sasha, and I’m big everywhere it counts.” Now some of that old mirth returned to his smirk. “As I’m sure you well remember.”

I took a step back, and took a deep breath. I came here for a reason, and I wasn’t going to do this. “Tyson,” I said. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. I’d expected a rapid retort but instead he seemed to consider it. In that moment I looked him up and down. Still, for the most part, the same old Tyson. Tall, muscular, stupidly good looking with those bright eyes, those full lips, and that jaw that could cut steel.

I did notice that the five years had changed him slightly, though. He was looking a little leaner; the lines of his muscles cut deeper and his veins stuck out more. The skin of his face was not as perfect as it used to be — something I’d always been secretly jealous of.

Hell, I’m sure I looked five years older, myself. Nevermind the fact that raising a kid as a single mom definitely aged you. Under any other circumstances I would be self-conscious about the way I looked. You never wanted to run into an ex and be the one who was ‘losing’.

But… I didn’t have the energy for that now. I didn’t have the mental bandwidth for that. All I wanted was to save my daughter, and I was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.

In the time I’d been studying him, he must have been doing the same to me, because he evidently decided that I was being dead serious, and that whatever it was, it was important. “I’m listening,” he said.

“Can we go outside?”

He gestured toward the door, and I walked outside with him behind me. I walked over to where his bike was. “Still looks good.”

“Don’t stall,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. “Say what you came here to say.”

He was right, I was stalling. Moment of truth, came all the way down here, finally got him to listen to me, and I’m stalling. What the f**k is wrong with me?

“My daughter,” I said. “I— I have a daughter now.”

“Good for you, Sasha, but what the f**k’s that got to do with me?”

I swallowed hard. “She’s been taken from me. Kidnapped. The kidnapper’s here, in Steelbarrow.”

His eyes widened, and he stepped toward me protectively, possessively… like the old Tyson of once upon a time… once upon our time.

“Who? Why?”

“This guy, Lester Martins… he and my ex-boyfriend were in business or something. Drugs, I don’t know. Anyway, my ex turned up dead, and I guess he owed this Lester guy some money. So it passed on to me… I don’t have the money to pay, and the cops won’t let me, either.”

“Standard play by the law,” he said. “The ex, he the girl’s father?”

I hesitated. Damn it, I hesitated and I shouldn’t have. “Y-Yes.”

He looked at me doubtfully. I knew he didn’t believe it. “Why’d you leave him? He treat you bad? He a deadbeat?”

“Yeah,” I said. “All of the above.”

“Fucker got what was coming,” he growled.

“Look, I know it’s a big ask,” I said. “You don’t have to help me. You could tell me to go down the way and hit up the Demons in Hampshire.”

“They’ll help you for a price.”

“But I came to you because…” My heart was pounding. Should I tell him? God, I didn’t know what to do.

“Because of our past,” he said. “That you didn’t want to talk about.”

“Well, I’m talking about it.”

He shook his head, staring down at the ground. He looked angry, but I sensed it wasn’t with me. It was for me.

Did he still care about me?

“Fine, I’ll talk to Jaxon,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” I said, the words tripping over themselves as they rushed out of my mouth. “Thank you, Tyson, thank you.”

“It ain’t a promise, Sasha. This sounds big, and it means getting our hands dirty. You know how we do it here, we vote. Vote don’t pass, I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to get the f**k on over to Hampshire and drum up the money to pay that sorry excuse for a club.”

“I understand,” I said. “Put it to a vote, I’ll wait. But, Tyson, every minute counts.”

He nodded, pushing his lips together, and put his hand son his hips. Then his brow creased together. “So, your daughter… how old is she?”

This time I didn’t hesitate. “Three,” I said immediately. Maybe too immediately.

“Three, huh,” he said, looking into my eyes. Could he tell I was lying? I did my best to look right back into his. “And what’s her name?”

“Selah,” I said.

“Selah, huh,” he said. “That’s a nice name.”