Page 37 of T-Bone (Steel Demons MC #11)

Faith

Four Months Later

S unlight streamed through the windows of the diner on Steel City’s main street.

The soft clink of silverware and the hum of lunchtime chatter surrounded us, but for me, all I could hear was the sound of Chloe’s laughter, light and real for the first time in years.

Across the table, she sipped her iced tea while Gemma busied herself with coloring the paper kids’ menu, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration.

You’d never know how much pain we’d all been through. If a stranger walked in right now, they’d think it was just a regular lunch date. Two friends catching up, or for those who looked closer and saw the resemblance, they might see us as sisters.

But we knew better.

Chloe looked good. Healthier. Her skin had color again and her hair was long and shiny, no longer dull and brittle from stress. She still looked over her shoulder sometimes, flinched at sudden noises. But she laughed more. Smiled more. She lived more.

We all did. I’d thought she was dead for years, the thing that kept me going wasn’t trying to find her, it was trying to get justice and to find out what happened to my niece.

The little girl now giggling happily as if she didn't have a care in the world.

All the heartache and pain was worth it for moments like this.

“I’m still waiting for the part where you get angry at me for faking my death,” she said out of nowhere, her lips quirking in a half-smile, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

I smiled. “That ship sailed the moment Gemma yelled ‘Auntie Faith!’ and tackled me at the clubhouse.”

“I thought you’d hate me,” Chloe admitted, quieter now, her fingers worrying the edge of her napkin. “I thought you’d be furious.”

“I was,” I admitted. “But not for the reasons you think.”

She blinked, then tilted her head in that familiar way that told me to go on.

“I wasn’t mad that you disappeared. I understood that part the second I saw the look in Gemma’s eyes. You did what you had to do. I was mad at myself… for not realizing it sooner. For not saving you sooner.”

Chloe reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing tight. “You saved me the second you didn’t give up looking for Gemma.”

The thing about pain is that it changes people—but so does healing. I wasn’t the same woman I’d been four months ago. Neither was she.

“So how’s Gemma settling into her new school?” I asked.

“She’s doing great,” Chloe said with a soft smile. “Sometimes she forgets she’s allowed to be Gemma and not Amber. But kids are resilient. She’s making friends, she knows this time we’re staying put and we won’t be moving on after a few months.”

My chest tightened at that. The way kids fight to survive, to adapt—it broke your heart and stitched it back together all at once.

“And what about you?” I asked. “How are you doing?”

“I’m getting used to being me again too, I guess.” Her eyes flicked to the window, thoughtful. “I spent so many years living in fear, and even once I knew Marcus could never hurt me again, I was never free. It’s hard to explain.”

I understood more than she knew.

As a detective, I’d heard stories like hers a hundred times.

I’d sat across from battered women with bruises blooming across their cheekbones and deadness in their eyes.

I learned how to hold their stories without letting them crush me—but that kind of detachment was clinical.

Necessary. When it’s your sister? Your blood?

There’s no detaching from that.

I reached for her hand and gave it another squeeze. “You’re doing great, Chloe. Really.”

She smiled again, this time wider, and she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Okay, your turn. How’s it going with your hot, sexy biker?”

I groaned, but I was already smiling.

“That good, huh?” she teased before I could even answer.

“It’s… honestly amazing,” I admitted. “I spent so much time overthinking it in the beginning. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kept telling myself it didn’t make sense—me, a former cop, falling for a man with one foot firmly planted outside the law.”

“But he’s not like Marcus,” she said.

“No,” I agreed. “He’s nothing like Marcus.”

T-Bone was a lot of things. Gruff. Protective. Stubborn as hell. But he was also kind and steady and safe. And I trusted him with my life—because he’d already proven he would risk his own to protect it.

“Once I stopped seeing his world through the lens of my badge, I realized we’re not so different. Sure, the MC skirts the law sometimes, but everything they do is for each other, for the town. For the people they love.”

Chloe nodded, listening intently.

“I used to think motorcycle clubs were all leather and violence, I guess I put them in the same category as gangs,” I continued.

“But it’s more than that. It’s family. Ellie’s amazing.

She’s Diesel’s wife. She’s also an accomplished writer.

Peyton is organizing a charity poker run for the local shelter.

And Katey?” I snorted. “She’s a doctor, so if that doesn’t break the stereotype of the kind of women who hang out with bikers, I don’t know what will.

All of the women are special in their own way, and I’m honored to get to know them. ”

“Their old ladies,” Chloe said, the term still foreign on her tongue.

“They’re my sisters now,” I said, surprising even myself with how natural the words felt. “This weird, wild, ride-or-die sisterhood I never knew I needed.”

“It’s kind of beautiful,” Chloe said softly.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really is.”

Gemma perked up then, holding up her finished picture with pride. It was a rainbow and a house and what looked like a slightly wobbly dog wearing sunglasses.

“I drew Auntie Faith and Uncle T-Bone’s house!” she announced.

“You got the crooked shutter and everything,” I laughed. “Very realistic.”

She beamed and went back to her crayons, humming a song under her breath.

“I’m glad you’re both close by,” I said to Chloe. “Steel City’s not far, but it feels like home now.”

“We wanted to be near you. I think… I think part of me needed to be close to someone who knew .” She looked at me, her eyes glimmering. “You’re the only one who really does.”

We finished our lunch without rushing, like we had all the time in the world. Which we did now.

Outside the diner, the sun was still shining. T-Bone was waiting across the street, leaning against his truck, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like sin in leather.

Gemma squealed and took off toward him. He caught her mid-run and lifted her, grinning as she peppered his cheeks with kisses.

Chloe nudged me. “Yeah. You’re definitely screwed.”

“I know,” I said, watching them. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He looked up then, and when our eyes met, my whole chest did that fluttery thing it still hadn’t stopped doing. Four months, and I was still giddy like a schoolgirl every time he looked at me like that.

Like I was his whole damn world.

I crossed the street and walked straight into his arms. He wrapped them around me without hesitation, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“How was lunch?” he asked.

“Perfect,” I said, and I meant it.

“You packed for Vegas?” he asked.

I leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, “I wasn’t planning on being dressed much.”

The look on his face was priceless. He’d surprised me earlier by saying that he’d booked us a weekend getaway in Vegas.

While my sister and niece were settling back into regular life I didn’t want to go too far from them, so I was touched by his thoughtfulness.

A little escape from the everyday, but only thirty minutes away.

We piled into the truck together—Gemma in the back, chattering about a school art project, Chloe staring out the window, lost in thought, and me and T-Bone in the front, fingers intertwined across the center console.

And after everything we’d survived—everything we’d fought for—I couldn’t think of a better ending.

Or maybe, just maybe, a better beginning.

***

The sounds of Vegas were wild and alive—neon lights blinking in dizzying colors, the constant chiming of slot machines echoing from every direction, and the pulsing bass of dance clubs spilling out onto the streets.

People buzzed like they were electrically charged, laughing, drinking, chasing the next high.

T-Bone and I slipped out of the casino just past midnight, hand in hand. I’d won thirty bucks on a machine that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the nineties, and he’d lost fifty playing blackjack, something I didn’t think I’d ever hear the last of.

He looked unfairly good under the city lights—his dark hair tousled by the wind, his sharp jaw tense like he was calculating the shortest path to the hotel and straight to my skin.

I didn’t mind. My thoughts were heading in the same direction as well.

Vegas was chaos, but right now it felt like we were in our own little bubble. Just the two of us, stealing time from the world.

We made it back to the hotel in record time, a sleek, modern high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave us a view of the Strip that could knock the breath right out of your chest.

I toed off my heels and padded toward the window while he locked the door behind us. The city glowed below us, a glittering mess of indulgence and dreams. But the only thing I wanted to look at was the man behind me.

T-Bone peeled off his shirt in that slow, deliberate way he always did, like he knew I was watching.

Because I was. Of course I was. His body was a masterpiece—broad chest, thick shoulders, every inch of muscle earned and inked with stories.

I was still learning half of them, and exploring his body was one of my favorite pastimes.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that, sweetheart, and I’m gonna forget we’re still dressed,” he said, his voice low and rough with the kind of promise that turned my knees to water and soaked my panties.