Page 8 of T-Bone (Steel Demons MC #11)

T-Bone

F aith stood behind me, she was too damn close, so close that her soft scent invaded my senses and short-circuited my ability to focus.

Underneath the perfume the girls had spritzed on her there was still that scent that was undeniably hers, floral and earthy, that hint of lemon strong beneath the layers.

“What did you find?” she asked in that sultry, breathy voice I was sure she didn’t know was a total fucking turn-on.

“Hidden drawer,” I managed in a gruff tone that sounded like I’d been gargling with rocks. Leaning forward I pressed the bottom of the drawer until it clicked, and the bottom flap released. A thick green folder fell to the floor and Faith bent to pick it up.

She turned big green eyes up at me as if she was waiting for something .

“Go on. Open it.”

She nodded but kept her gaze fixed on me for another long moment before she stood and hesitated before she opened the folder. Her hands shook as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was inside. But she stood taller and let out a deep breath before she opened the folder.

I watched Faith as her gaze ran back and forth across every page, her lips moved silently as if it helped her absorb the information.

She was completely engrossed in the details, oblivious to the way I watched her, which was good because I shouldn’t be watching her at all.

I should be focused on the details of this room, Ashley’s room.

Her art. Pike would want it later when he climbed out of his grief. And the bottle he took down with him.

“There’s a woman’s name on the file,” she finally broke the silence inside the studio. “Rachel Grey. Is that name familiar to you?” She posed the question without looking up.

I took my time and searched my memory. “I’ve never heard the name or met anyone with it.”

“Are you sure?”

I bit back the rough retort and nodded. “I’m sure.” The answer was still gruff, not that Faith noticed.

She let out a shocked gasp that drew my attention, I looked over her shoulder at the child’s drawing clutched in her hands.

“Look at this.” She pointed to the first drawing of two women and a little girl.

“It’s signed Amber G.” Her shoulders slumped.

“It could be an alias but without knowing who Rachel is, it could just be one of Ashley’s friends.

” Disappointment hung heavy around her, but she never looked away from the drawing.

She took in every single detail as if it was a photograph.

“That’s clearly Ashley,” she pointed to the dark haired woman.

“And the tiny redhead is Gemma. She inherited Marcus’ red hair. ”

“And the blonde?” I knew what she was thinking, what she was trying really hard not to think about. Chloe.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I can’t say but this is Gemma. I know it,” she whispered that last part to herself.

I laid a hand on her shoulder and sighed.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Faith.” I was about to say more but she smacked her hand over my mouth.

I gripped her wrist, ready to yank it free but she put a finger to her lips to stop me, and then she pointed to her ear.

I nodded and she removed her hand. That’s when I heard it too, heavy boots just outside the building.

Seconds later, glass shattered the windows near the sculptures and then I pulled her hand from my mouth before I did something stupid like risk a taste of her. “They followed us,” I whispered.

Faith nodded and then more glass broke, this time because a fucking Molotov cocktail sailed through it, lighting up the rug, the paint and all the canvases in the front of the studio.

In under a minute more than half the room was engulfed in flames.

“We need to get out of here T-Bone. Now.” She grabbed my hand as if she didn’t think I’d follow and tugged.

I let her because she was right, we needed to get the fuck out.

Before we made it to the front door, it burst open and two Ghost Riders appeared, scanning the area for enemies. They found Faith a closer target and one lunged forward, but I was faster, pulling her behind me so that I was the closer target.

“Just give us the girl,” one of them said but it was too fucking smoky to tell them apart.

“Not fuckin’ happenin’,” I answered and took a step forward. “You want to leave now or get swept up by the fire?”

His answer was to punch me in the face.

“Okay, then.” I pulled my arm back and returned the punch tenfold, landing blow after blow, dodging a few return hits, until we both started to cough.

Still I couldn’t stop, these motherfuckers came after an innocent woman—two if you counted Faith—and for what?

It wasn’t how a man acted, which meant I didn’t have to treat this piece of shit like a man.

I hit him again and again until his grip loosened and he collapsed against the floor.

“Bitch,” the other shouted and fell to his knees.

Faith stood over him, smiling as he clutched his dick in his hands. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

He lunged towards her, but she easily sidestepped his attempt and kicked him under the chin.

She flashed a satisfied smile but took another cautious step back.

“You’re a dead bitch,” he snarled and lunged forward again but I was there quickly, and grabbed the asshole by his hair and yanked him backwards.

“Pick on somebody your own size, asshole.” With a smile I didn’t feel, I pulled my arm back and let two jabs loose before I stood and pressed my boot to his chest.

He smiled at me and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what you do to me.”

My boot sank deeper against his chest. “Yeah, and why is that?”

“Because this ain’t about you or your MC.

This is a message that the bitch needs to hear.

We know she’s here and we know about the kid.

” His grin widened when Faith sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yeah, we know, and three years won’t erase that blood debt.

Three hundred years won’t erase it.” He looked so fucking smug, so sure of himself.

“We have to go,” Faith said, her eyes wide as emergency sirens tore through the early evening air. “Now.”

I watched the asshole on the ground and felt my anger bubble up.

Faith didn’t need me angry on her behalf but I fucking was.

This MC had taken her whole fucking world, they were the reason she wore that haunted look behind her pretty green eyes, and they wanted to scare her.

“If it doesn’t matter what I do to you,” I said before I raised my foot and stomped his face twice until he passed out.

Faith grunted again but instead of a lecture or judgement, she gave me a shove towards the door. “We have to go right now, T-Bone.” She was insistent but I didn’t miss the look she shot at the unconscious men we left behind.

Quickly we got on my bike, and I took off fast, desperate to put as much distance between us and the studio as possible.

The wail of the sirens grew fainter, which was a good sign but the cough that shook my body and the whole damn bike was a bad sign.

I shook it off and kept going but another fit struck me, and I slowed down.

Faith tapped my shoulder and shouted, “Red Rock Roadside Hotel.”

***

Ten minutes later we walked into her room which was covered in papers. Every surface was covered in case files, photos, and handwritten notes. “What’s all this?”

“Research,” she said simply and kicked off her boots. “You need to rinse off your face. Eyes, nose and mouth,” she instructed, and pointed to the slightly open door I assumed was the bathroom.

I stared at her for a long moment, barely suppressing a smile. “You’re bossy.”

She shrugged. “Seriously, do it now, T-Bone.”

I could’ve argued but my throat burned like a son of a bitch, so I went in and rinsed my face and my hair in cold water.

The relief was instant, so I rinsed off a few more times before I caught my reflection in the mirror.

Traces of soot still stained my cheeks, and a bruise was forming just under my left eye.

I was a little banged up, but I was fine and so was Faith, and that’s what mattered.

It was clear now that she was right about the little girl. The Ghost Riders wouldn’t have come to the studio otherwise. They seemed to think she was alive too, which meant we needed to find her first.

But first I needed to inform my MC.