Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)

by Jen McLaughlin

But if I didn’t kill him, that left two other options. Go to jail or run. Neither of those options suited me. Despite my packed bag waiting for me back home, I wasn’t a runner, and I’d be damned if I willingly went back to prison.

  Scotty had me backed into a corner, and there was no way out. No matter which I chose, Scotty won. Fuck that. And fuck him. I’d do it my way.

  Whatever that was.

  I stopped in front of St. Stephen’s, my heart picking up speed. I hadn’t been to Mass since before I’d been arrested. Something told me that no matter how forgiving God might or might not be, he had no room in his life for men like me. I didn’t regret my life or what I’d done with it, but I wasn’t blind to my faults.

  And neither was he.

  Tentatively, I reached for the handle, tugging. Locked. Of course. The gates of heaven were closed to me, as I’d expected. Hell, I half expected to burst into flames, just for daring to stand on holy ground. I shook my head. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  I was two steps away when someone spoke from behind me. “Sometimes it’s the times when we think we shouldn’t have come to pray that we need to pray the most.”

  Whirling, I reached for my gun. When I saw who stood behind me, I relaxed slightly. “Sorry, Father.”

  The old priest looked at me and I shifted uncomfortably under his knowing gaze. I started to back away.

  “You don’t have to go,” the man said. He had white hair, blue eyes, and wrinkles all over his face. “We closed a while ago, but God never turns away visitors, and neither do I.”

  “You don’t know me,” I said, meeting his eyes. “If you did, you wouldn’t say that.”

  “I doubt that,” he said. “What are you seeking, my son?”

  I suddenly thought of my mother, the gentle lilt of her voice, the cool touch of her hand on my forehead. How she’d told us that despite our poverty and our shitty rat-infested home in Steel Row, we had the chance to be anything we could be. Yet I’d fucked that up. I cleared my throat. “Nothing. I just . . . I just wanted to get warm.”

  “There is no judgment here.” He opened the door to the church. “We’re here for you.”

  His words were like a slap in my face. Aside from Chris, no one supported me. No one helped me. What I needed, I took. If I wanted something, I made it happen. Me. Just me. And that wasn’t about to change.

  Letting people in was one challenge I wasn’t about to take on.

  “Thanks, Father.” I tugged on my collar. “But I don’t need anyone.”

  “Spoken like a man who doesn’t trust,” the priest said.

  I shrugged. I wasn’t about to get in a philosophical argument about my psyche with a priest. “Good night, Father.”

  I walked away, my steps slow and steady. I embraced the cold night again once I was alone. That’s how it needed to be. When you let people in, it gave them a chance to betray you. And in the end, they always did. People were greedy assholes like that.

  Scotty, whom I’d spent my life protecting since my mother hadn’t been well enough to do so, was trying to get me out of the way by either killing me or sending me back to jail. No way. I’d avoid that iron hellhole or I’d die trying.

  And that was that.

  The whole way home, I tried to think of the best course of action. Kill or be killed. Stay or run. Fight or flight. That envelope of cash hidden in my place burned into the back of my mind, refusing to back off. By the time I got to my apartment, I still didn’t have any answers. I stopped in front of the ratty old red-wood door of the Patriot. The fogged-up window obscured the inside of the bar, but I knew it was still open. I bet that sexy blond bartender who had challenged me last night was inside.

  She was always there.

  Ms. Heidi Greene.

  There was something about her that called to me. In a way, she reminded me of Ma. Stubborn, strong, beautiful, and unafraid. She was like a fresh breath of spring air rising above the stench of my life. And when I touched her, I felt alive.

  I’d forgotten how that felt.

  She was a challenge, and things had been entirely too easy since I’d left jail behind. It was almost closing time. The bar would probably be emptying out, so she wouldn’t be able to use other customers as an excuse to ignore me. She’d intrigued me last night, with her attitude and those sparkling eyes of hers.

  Dipshit Doug had practically wet himself on the docks last night, but Heidi, now, she had balls.

  I liked that she wasn’t afraid to take me on.

  I could go inside. Sit down on one of her wooden chairs at the bar and flirt with her. Try to take her home and fuck her. Forget about my brother and my job. The rest of the world. But I didn’t. I went home alone instead.

  Unlocking the door, I entered my apartment above the mechanic shop. I ran the place, but buried beneath layers of paperwork, it belonged to the Sons of Steel Row—namely, to Tate Daniels. It was a front for money laundering. Just like everything else in my life, nothing was as it seemed.

  Never would be.

  After shrugging off my jacket, I rolled my sleeves up and poured myself a whiskey. Picking up my packed bag, I tossed it by the door. After a moment’s hesitation, I knelt down and unzipped the black duffel. Two blue shirts, a couple pairs of pants, my Sig, and a white envelope stared back at me. I grabbed the envelope of cash—everything I had to my name—palming it. With a sigh, I zipped the bag up and stood. Crossing my apartment, I slid the cash back into the kitchen drawer it had been in before, and bumped it closed with my hip.

  I wouldn’t be running tonight. Not till I got to the bottom of this. Not till I found out if my little brother really wanted to kill me.

  Tossing back the shot of whiskey, I immediately poured another. Kicking my bag aside, I stood at the window, glowering out into the darkness. From up here, I could see the alley behind Heidi’s bar. As if on cue, the door opened, and she stepped out with a bag of trash. My heart accelerated, and I watched her as I sipped my drink. She tossed the bag into the Dumpster and swiped her blond hair out of her eyes.

  So beautiful.

  In the moonlight, her hair looked almost white. I couldn’t see them, but I knew her eyes would be shining, too. She was that kind of woman. Shiny and pretty.

  All the things I couldn’t have.

  Just as I was about to turn and walk away, I saw shadows move toward her. No, not shadows. Men. Three of them. She saw them, too, and backed up one step before lifting her chin and glaring at them.

  Brave. Foolish, but brave.

  She should have run back inside and barricaded herself in. Her breasts rose and fell with each accelerated breath, and she held her short frame stiff.

  I watched, my grip on my glass tightening. “Go inside. Don’t fight.”

  The men moved closer, and she clenched her fists at her sides. She was obviously going to stand her ground. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What were the men up to? I stiffened when I recognized them. They were the ones who had been watching her last night.

  The guys who I’d later figured out were Bitter Hill guys.

  One of the guys went for Heidi, and she swung at him. I tensed, because the guy from Bitter Hill easily dodged the blow and delivered one of his own. For what it was worth, she barely looked fazed. If anything, she looked annoyed as she said something to them—more than likely an insult. I couldn’t help it. Her actions filled me with pride.

  She was a fighter. So was I.

  It made me like her even more.

  The Bitter Hill prick roughly shoved her face-first against the wall, the fury on his face way too easy to read. I’d seen that look before, way too many times, to not know what it meant. I set my drink down and took a step toward the door, but forced myself to stand still, gaze locked on the confrontation in the alley. It was harder than it should’ve been. No matter how much I might want to help Heidi . . .

  I couldn’t just charge down there and demand they release her.

  The Bitter Hill Crew bought guns from us.
Guns I knew they were packing as they closed in on Heidi. I tried to relax. This could just be a routine shake-up. They generally dealt drugs. Maybe she used and owed them money. If that was the case, I wouldn’t—couldn’t—interfere. We did business with this gang, and the consequences of messing with their cash flow would be ugly. But still . . .

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to help someone without any thought to the cost.

  I wanted to help her.

  CHAPTER 4

  HEIDI

  I ignored my racing heart and paralyzing fear. Even though I would do my best to fight the men off, I knew I could do only so much. At some point, they would overpower me. And I would be helpless to escape it. Would be helpless, period, because no help would be coming for me.

  I was on my own.

  Earlier, I’d sent Marco up to his apartment. I wanted to deep-clean the floors after closing so I’d told him I’d crash on the couch in my office when I was finished. Even from down here, in the alley, I could hear his music blaring. I could shout. Scream for help. But he wouldn’t hear me. No one would. People shouted for help in this part of town every night. Gangs tagged future hits with red and black graffiti and no one cared. Guns were fired on a nightly basis, and no cops came riding to the rescue. Residents turned up their TVs to drown the cries out and went about their lives as if it were just a movie playing outside their window instead of real life.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though my cheek was being torn by the bricks of the building I owned. “I get it. You don’t like when I say your dick’s as small as your brain.”

  He smacked my head into the wall again, and I legit saw stars. “You’ll find out, up close and personal, how wrong you are.”

  Fear crept down my spine, making my whole body go numb. So that’s what this was about. They intended to rape me. Well, then, I intended to fight like hell. I didn’t get where I was today by being scared to fight back. “Whatever you say.”

  “That’s more like it.” The guy who slammed me into the wall let go of me, chuckling. “You’re learning.”

  His laugh sent shivers down my spine, because I knew this was all a game to him. And I was his next plaything. Now that I was free, I faced them, pressing my back against the wall, and blinked away the fuzzy vision the last head slam had given me.

  But then I forced myself to stand still.

  If they were here to find trouble, then I’d give it to them. If I cowered now, I’d always seem like an easy mark. This wasn’t my first run-in with assholes like these guys. I knew how to handle this, and showing fear wasn’t the way. All that did was make their dicks get hard.

  I forced my eyes off Star Tattoo and located the other attackers. When I’d pegged down all three men—they had me fully surrounded, of course—I saw it. The graffiti by the Dumpster. They’d tagged my bar earlier tonight, and I hadn’t seen it. I’d walked into their trap blind. I dug my nails into my palms and ignored my racing heart.

  Time to pretend I was the one in control . . . when I so wasn’t. “Guys . . . you clearly made a mistake coming here tonight. We can pretend this never happened. Go home.”

  “Go home?” The man to my left laughed, and the other two joined in. Greasy blond hair fell over his eyes and the Boston accent that sounded so hot from Lucas was menacing coming from him. “You hear that?”

  The other two men made affirmative replies.

  They closed in on me.

  The one on my right, with a star tattoo on his neck, blocked the bar’s back door.

  “What’s this really about? You want a cut of my earnings?” I fisted my hands at my sides, trying to watch all three of them at once. They weren’t from the Sons, so I wasn’t sure who they were. But I knew one thing: They were trouble. “You’re welcome to try, but the last guy who came looking for my money left with a limp and a sore dick.”

  Dark Eyes grinned and pulled out a gun. “I’m not worried about my dick.”

  I cast a scornful look down and swiped blood off my jaw. “Obviously.”

  “And we didn’t come here for money.”

  “Then leave before I call the cops.” I cast a quick glance around for an escape route but came up empty. They still had me surrounded, and it was only a matter of time till I was face-first into the wall again. “Now.”

  “We’re not done yet,” Blondie said. “In case you failed to notice earlier, we came here for you. And we’re not leaving till we get what we came for.”

  My heart pounded, loud and booming in my ears, but I refused to show them how terrified I was. “I’m not interested. Go home.”

  “We don’t care if you’re interested.” Blondie closed the distance between us, fisted my hair, and yanked me off balance. I swung for him again, but he slapped me hard before I could connect. Again. “Oh, she’s got claws. I love it when they fight back.”

  “Go to hell,” I snarled. He’d busted my lip even more. “And take them with you.”

  And then I spit a mouthful of blood in his face.

  He swiped his forearm across his jaw, spun me, and slammed my body face-first into the brick wall even harder than the last time, his fist still tight on my hair. “Bitch, you’re gonna pay for that. You stand behind that bar all night, teasing all of us with that tight little body of yours, but you never let us touch. Well, tonight? You will.”

  Stars swam in front of my eyes and pain exploded across my skull, but I bit back the cry that almost escaped. “Over my dead body.”

  Star Tattoo came up to my left as Blondie held my hands behind my back and shoved me even harder into the wall. Dark Eyes came up on the right, unclasping his belt. “That can be arranged.” Any second, they would all jump on me like vultures. I swallowed down the vomit that threatened to spill forward. No matter what, I would go down fighting.

  Pleas nearly bubbled from my mouth, but I bit them back. I wouldn’t beg for mercy when they clearly had none. I’d fight, and I’d die before begging. I turned my head and forced myself to laugh. It sounded manic. Strained. “What’s the matter? Can’t get a girl to go home with you without raping her? How sad for you. How pathetic.”

  “We’ll show you who’s the pathetic one.” Star Tattoo closed his hand on my breast and squeezed cruelly. I slammed my head back, trying to break free by head-butting the jerk, but Blondie held me too damn tight. “Nice.”

  Nice. That’s what this snake said while feeling me up.

  My stomach rolled even more, seconds from expelling its contents. I swallowed it back because I refused to show them how much they’d gotten to me.

  Gritting my teeth, I threw my head back again, this time successfully connecting with Blondie’s nose. He cried out and let go of me, and I quickly spun away from him, swinging as I did so. I connected with Dark Eyes, but before I could do any real damage, Star Tattoo captured me again.

  I kicked back but missed.

  “Damn it.” He adjusted his grip and my arms were pinned to my sides. “You little bitch.”

  “Let me go,” I snarled, “or you’re dead.”

  He laughed and bit down hard on my shoulder. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t make a sound. Then he shoved me to the ground and was on me, the weight of his body so heavy that I couldn’t breathe. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he pressed a hand against my throat, cutting off any hope of oxygen. I struggled beneath him, arching my back and kicking my legs, but he didn’t budge. Just grinned down at me.

  Black crept into the corners of my vision, painfully taking over, and I fought more frantically. Unfortunately, he didn’t budge, and as I ran out of air, my movements slowed. I hit him again, but my arm felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and instead of hitting him, my hand just kind of fell on him and stayed. I stopped struggling. It became clear that he was going to suffocate me before he ever got around to raping me.

  That might actually be a merciful thing.

  Just as the black was about to take over my world, Dark Eyes flew backward, landing almos
t directly next to me on the dirty ground with a sick, bone-crunching sound. The hands that had been cutting off my air supply eased a bit, and I gasped in a deep breath. It hurt more than the actual strangling had, and I coughed so hard my lungs almost came out of my chest.

  I turned my head to the side and took in a deep breath, but I choked on it.

  Dark Eyes wasn’t moving.

  Blood gushed out of his nose, and his eyes stared sightlessly into the night sky. You could still see the color in his eyes, but the rest of him was empty. He looked . . . dead. I couldn’t see who, or what, had done this, but I could only assume it was Marco. And if it was Marco, then he’d go to jail. After he’d worked so hard to start a life. A real life. One he could actually be proud of.

  Pins and needles filled my veins instead of blood, and I gasped in a deep breath, coughing and choking on the thing that was supposed to save me. Air.

  Star Tattoo still pinned me down, but his head was turned toward the man attacking his buddies. Rearing up, I bit down hard on whatever I could reach. He yelled in pain as Blondie came crashing to the ground in a heap. Star Tattoo’s attention was squarely on me, but before he could retaliate, he was gone. Just gone.

  A man shoved him into the building, much like they’d done to me earlier, and slammed his head into the wall. It definitely wasn’t Marco; that much I knew. This guy was too big. Too tall. Too muscular. And almost . . . familiar.

  Star Tattoo whimpered. “Look, man, you don’t have to do this. She’s just a whore that we were—”

  The man growled. “I know exactly what you were doing, asshole.”

  I sat up and hugged myself. My shirt had been ripped in the fight. I needed to get to my feet, needed to be in a better position to fight if I had to, but I . . . I needed a minute.

  Soft Boston accent. Domineering tone. I knew that voice. Lucas. He had saved me. But why? Where had he come from? My mind struggled to make any sense amid all the uncontrollable panic that now bubbled to the surface. They were arguing between grunts and punches.

  “You may have been locked up for a while, but that ain’t no excuse for forgetting how this works. You got no right barging in here, Mr. Donahue. With all due respect, this ain’t your, or Tate’s, business.” Star Tattoo looked over his shoulder at Lucas. “Nothing to do with you or the Sons of Steel Row at all, matter of fact.”