Chapter Twelve
The following morning,Breanna kept looking out the window, expecting to see Steel and his Harley come by, but it was quiet. Several times she went to call him, but she pulled back. It was better that they didn’t have any contact with each other. She’d secured his number from his mother in case she had to get a hold of him in regard to her or Chenoa, but she also liked having it. As crazy as that was, it made her feel connected to him.
The landline on her desk rang and she picked up. It was her supervisor returning her call. She’d phoned her late the night before and left a message saying that she thought it would be in the best interests of Chenoa if she could spend more time with her father, possibly live with him. She didn’t expect that the department would go along with it, and was pleasantly surprised when her boss agreed that it may benefit Chenoa to have more access to her father.
“You’ll have to interview him and find out where he’s staying. The department doesn’t want her living or spending extended periods of time at her father’s motorcycle clubhouse,” the supervisor said.
“I’m sure Mr. McVickers would move away from the clubhouse if he had to. He definitely wants his daughter with him. He’ll do anything it takes.”
“Let’s start with the interview. Then you can put your report together and present it to the panel. We’ll reevaluate the situation at that point.”
The minute Breanna hung up the phone, she took out her cell and, with trembling fingers, dialed his number. Her pulse quickened with each subsequent ring.
“Yeah?” His deep voice made her skin tingle.
“Mr. McVickers?” she said in a firm voice. She was proud that she could hide the way her body responded to him. Even his voice had her shaking all over.
“It’s you. I told you my name is Steel. Use it.”
She gulped.He’s such a jerk. I have to keep remembering that.“Whatever. I’ve decided to write a reevaluation report to the department recommending that Chenoa be allowed to have more interaction with you. I called my supervisor about it, and she’s amenable to the reevaluation.” A long pause ensued. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you. What do you want, a medal?”
Her nervousness dissipated and a slow burn started deep within her.What an asshole!“Hardly. I need to ask you some questions and come see your clubhouse before I send in my report. It’s a requirement.”
“You wanna hang with me? I can go for that, baby. I’ll just have to remember not to touch you, but after last night, that won’t be too hard.”
She gripped the phone tightly. “I’m doing this for Chenoa because I think it’ll be good for her. I’m not doing this to ‘hang with you.’ Does later this afternoon at around four o’clock work for you?”
“Four it is. I’ll text you the directions.”
“I’ll see you then. Thank you.” She hung up before he could respond. He pissed her off so much. Just when she thought he was a decent guy, his true jerk came out. Her phone pinged and she opened the text to read the directions. She’d only been inside a biker clubhouse once, when she’d gone to look for her dad when she’d been sixteen years old. Her mother had passed out on the bed from taking too many pain pills and she’d called 911. Since she’d been a minor, she hadn’t had any authority to make decisions for her mother’s medical care.
When she’d entered the clubhouse, the stench of body odor, beer, stale smoke, and sex had washed over her. It’d been so dark inside that she hadn’t been able to see much until her eyes had grown accustomed to the dim lighting. Several men checked her out, hunger brimming in their gazes. Barely clothed women were performing various sex acts with several men. She’d been ready to turn around and hightail it out of there when she’d spotted her father sitting on a chair. His pants were down and a woman knelt in front of him, sucking his dick. Her face must have been a mask of horror because a few of the men had guffawed, which made her dad turn toward her. He’d seemed pissed to see her, even when she’d told him that he had to come to the hospital. That moment had marked the beginning of her hatred for him.
And in less than two hours, I’ll be entering another biker clubhouse, but this time I’m prepared. I know what goes on behind the darkened windows. She was pretty sure Steel would act like a jerk and try to embarrass or shock her.No chance in hell. Dad already broke me into the biker lifestyle.
She pulled out some files and began updating them, wanting to catch up on her backload as much as she could before she met with him.
Later that afternoon, as she turned down the barely visible road, she wondered if this was a good idea. She knew the department would ask if she’d been to the clubhouse to assess it, so she did have to go, but the flutter in her stomach told her shewantedto go. As crazy as it sounded, she wanted to see him again. She’d even spent twenty minutes before she’d left fixing her makeup and hair.
Don’t get caught up in his masculinity. Stay focused. You’ve got a job to do.
The clubhouse, a white stucco two-story building, loomed in front of her. She stopped at the metal barricade, and a man of barely twenty years old motioned for her to roll down her window.
“Why’re you here?” the tattooed man asked.
“I’m here to see Steel. My name is Breanna Quine.”
He looked at his clipboard. “Hang on.” He picked up his phone and dialed. “Yo, a Breanna Quine is here to see you…. Okay, sir.” He pushed a button and the gate slowly opened. “Go on in.”
“Thank you,” she said to his retreating back.
Breanna parked her car and walked to the front door, taking a breath before she opened it and walked in. A few men sat at the bar, some played pool, and a few were on the couch watching car racing on a big-screen TV. Several of them glanced her way, their eyes roving up and down her body. Before she felt any real discomfort Steel came into the room, his gaze locking on hers. His lips twitched into a small smile. She waved and walked toward him.
When they met in the middle of the room, his gaze boldly traveled up her body, but instead of feeling indignant, she was flattered that he found her attractive and desirable. She threw her shoulders back, making her breasts strain against her sleeveless knit top. Jerking his head back slightly, he snorted. “Follow me.” He turned around and strode out of the room.
She trailed behind him until he stopped in front of a door. Opening it, he looked over his shoulder. “We can talk in my office.” He stood aside and she brushed past him, preparing to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Over here,” he said.
