Steel Crew : Books 1-3 (Steel World Box Set Book 7)

by Mj Fields

  “Awkward as fuck conversation?” Cyrus asks her.

  She smiles and nods. “Is that we all love each other and have stronger marriages because we found the right person. We want that for you all.” She looks at me. “Katy and Bella found it, and we’re so happy for them. We want that for all of you, too.”

  “And the sex part …” Mom says, and Dad nearly chokes on his wine. “Oh, please, not one of us here doesn’t want them to have as wonderful a connection in the bedroom, too.”

  “Wine, Zandor.” Bekah thrusts her empty glass at him, and everyone laughs.

  “I wished your dad was my first,” Taelyn tells Patrick. “I trusted the wrong man before him. Don’t you ever be some girl’s wrong man.”

  Patrick nods. “Got it.”

  Awkward silence falls around the table for the second time in my entire life. I can’t handle it. “Mom?”

  She smiles at me.

  “Any chance there’s first day cake?”

  She starts to stand, but Dad beats her to it. “I’ll get it.”

  “My ass is gonna start spreading if you keep this up, Steel.”

  Dad chuckles. “Well, that’ll be a first.”

  “Oh my God.” Brisa laughs. “See? Every one of you!”

  After my shower, I walk into the bedroom and find Truth lying on her bed. She mumbles, “Twat.”

  “Who?”

  She looks up as I sit on the bed and shows me the screen. “Gabrielle Morales-Ortez.” She drops the phone in my hand, gets up, crosses the room, and shuts the door. “She’s peanut butter and bread girl,” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “Rot in hell girl.” Truth scowls.

  “Okay, you’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”

  “The day you bought Brand’s rings, the girl in the hoodie who stole from the little store. The girl’s ass I saved, and then she told me to rot in hell. It’s her, Kiki.”

  “No freaking way,” I gasp.

  “She came at me today in the hall after lunch. Pinned me against the locker, told me to keep my mouth shut, and was probably going to punch me had Justice not turned the corner, grabbed her by her fucking blazer, and jacked her away from me.”

  “How the hell did I miss this?”

  “You’re a senior.”

  “So is she, Truth.”

  “No, she’s a junior.”

  “She’s in my homeroom.”

  “Well, she’s in all my advanced classes.”

  “Guess who her man is?”

  “Tell me so I can suck face with him in front of that bitch.”

  “Trust me; you don’t want to suck anything of his. Vile creature was hitting on me right in front of everyone.”

  She plops down next to me. “Spill it. Who’s the vile creature who’s nothing I should suck to spite her but won’t?”

  “You really wanna know?”

  “Oh my God, Kiki, spill it.”

  “Harrison Reeves.”

  She falls backward and covers her face. “Shoot me now.”

  Everyone is asleep, but as exhausted as I feel, I still can’t fall asleep. So, I get up and walk into the kitchen, grab a slice of first day chocolate cake, a fork, and then walk over to sit by the window and stuff my face as I look at Brand’s house.

  “Missing him, huh?”

  I jump and nearly drop my plate. “Mom, you almost gave me a heart a—”

  Mom laughs at what I assume is the utter shock on my face from my word choice.

  “Totally not funny.”

  “It kind of is.” She shrugs and squeezes in the chair next to me.

  I look at her, really look at her. “I need you here, so no, Mom, it’s not.”

  She nods.

  “And you’ve been quiet and kind of dismissive, and I can’t help thinking it’s because of me.”

  She shakes her head and puts her hand on my belly. “This is a blessing. My being quiet is because I don’t want any of you to worry. Your father’s doing enough of that. My being dismissive is because, if I dwell on it too much, I get all in my head about Mom missing signs, ones that may have prompted her to see a doctor, and maybe she’d still be here to meet all of you.”

  “Did Bella ever meet her?”

  She shakes her head. “Sadly, no. Your dad and I were on a big old break.”

  “Is there a story behind that?”

  “Yeah, Katy, a mess of a story that thankfully ended up with us being right where we are now.” She laughs.

  “Care to share?”

  She sighs. “It all started on the Shore. This beautiful boy smiled at this dorky, awkward science geek, and his dimple winked.”

  “His what?” I laugh as I sit back to get comfortable.

  “Still winks at me.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “Sure does.”

  “Tell me more.”

  The Heart Of The Matter

  Katherine

  I wake to my phone ringing and open my eyes as Mom hands it to me.

  “Morning, Katy.”

  “Hey, Brand.”

  “Shit, did I wake you?”

  I rub my eyes then cover my mouth as I yawn.

  “Are you in our bed?” he asks.

  “Yes, we are,” Mom says loud enough for him to hear.

  Brand laughs. “Morning, Carly.”

  “Morning, Brandon. How are things in Germany?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer. “Press today, right? How does that work if you don’t speak German? Oh, right, we’re the only country who doesn’t push our kids to learn other languages.”

  He laughs. “I speak a couple.”

  “What?” we both ask at the same time, and Mom leans over to look at the screen.

  “Portuguese and Spanish. Not perfectly. Kind of taught myself from an app while traveling.”

  “He reads romance and speaks different languages,” Mom sighs, and I can’t help laughing.

  “If that impresses you”—he grabs his guitar and sits back—“this should blow your mind.” He starts to play a song I don’t recognize … until he starts to sing the lyrics. Although changed a bit, they sound familiar.

  “I see you out tonight, you’re out with her again. And it’s seeming like I don’t know my own friend. Watching you with her just feels so wrong. But one look and I know where you belong. She don’t know you like I do. She don’t see you the same. But when I look into your eyes, it’s like a moth to a flame. Wrong shoes, wrong hair, wrong face. The wrong half-hearted embrace. Don’t know what you see in her. Wrong smile, wrong waste of energy. Just thinkin’ ’bout the way things could be. If you didn’t love the wrong girl. Didn’t love the wrong girl. Didn’t love the wrong girl.”

  He stops and looks at the screen. “What do you think?”

  Nothing. I can say nothing.

  Mom nudges me. “Was that one of yours?”

  “Mom!” I snarl.

  “What?” She tries to act like she’s clueless, but the only thing she’s clueless to is the fact that she can’t tell a lie.

  “Mom, really?”

  She holds her hand over her heart.

  I drop the phone. “Are you okay, Mom? Is everything—”

  “Katy, hang up the phone and call nine one—”

  “No, I’m fine. Geesh.” She sits up, grabs the phone, and looks at it. “Good luck today, Brand. We love you.” She kisses my head, hands me my phone, and then slides out of bed and says, “Gonna make breakfast.”

  “Mom!”

  Brand starts to laugh, and I look down at him. He immediately stops laughing.

  “I’m gonna kill you.”

  He smiles. “No, you’re not, but you’re gonna admit to me you’re a songwriter.”

  “I wrote those a long time ago, and it was personal … more like a diary.”

  “Every song I’ve written carries something about you in it. Nothing more personal than that. I have no problem admitting that to you.”

  “It’s different, and you know it.�
��

  “No, it’s not, and you know it.”

  “Remember we aren’t supposed to fight, and I’m supposed to smile?”

  He smirks.

  “Then drop it, Brand.”

  He shakes his head. “I won’t drop it, but I won’t push it until you’re ready. And, Katy, you’re a damn good writer, and I know you can sing.”

  “Pull back the reins, cowboy; you clearly need some sleep.”

  “How am I gonna sleep when I have something to prove to my girl?”

  “Brand, I love you.”

  “Smile for me, Katy.”

  “Such a jerk,” I say then smile … genuinely.

  “Love you, babe.” He smirks. “Get Patrick to teach you how to play guitar.”

  “Brand, I’m not—”

  He winks then he hangs up on me.

  It’s been less than a month since Brand left and we all started a new chapter in our lives here in Mantoloking. Xavier, Taelyn, and Patrick moved into their house about a mile away two weeks ago, and Zandor, Bekah, Brisa, Tris, and Amias just a few days ago. Cyrus, Tara, Truth, and Justice are still living here. The same realtor that Dad used gave them the same run around that they did Dad. Cyrus has a lawyer looking into it.

  I’m glad they’re here. This change has definitely been harder on Truth than anyone else. That app she found, that gossip rag, has run her and me over the coals. The difference is that I don’t give a damn if they pick me apart and sling mud. Truth does.

  She plays tough, but she’s hurting. She and the girls all got parts in the play. Truth, the trained dancer in the family, received the smallest. I can guarantee it has everything to do with that sticky-fingered little bitch, but she doesn’t seem to think so. Worse yet, she sticks up for her to Justice who would never lay a finger on a female but has offered to pay another girl to kick her ass. I offered to do it for free but, you know … pregnant.

  They don’t tell me half of what goes on, not since I’ve had two stress tests confirming I have an abnormal heart rhythm. The genetic testing, came back positive, and it’s obvious that they’re all worried. Mom and I are not.

  Max is in the clear. Honestly, I’m glad he is.

  I made them all promise not to tell Brand, and every time he brings it up, I start talking about music or his dick. I love him, I know he’s smart, but seriously … men.

  Each and every day starts with him saying, “Morning, Katy.” Every night, a call. At least once a week, he’ll sing my words to me and makes me kind of love them, and him, even more.

  Sitting in front of the airport, in my car, waiting for the text that he’s on his way out, my heartbeat is accelerated, and it has nothing to do with the defect and everything to do with the fact that I get to see the boy … the man who owns my heart, that he will be wrapping his arms around me in just a couple minutes, and then we’re off to the OBGYN.

  On our way, I’m going to call Mom and let her answer any questions he may have. Then we’ll get to see our baby, and we may be able to find out the sex of the little blessing. After that, we’re having a big family dinner, his and mine. Then I have some epic Christmas slash birthday surprises planned. And finally, it’ll be just us.

  A knock on the window makes me jump, and when I see him smiling in at me, I can’t seem to unbuckle my seat belt fast enough. Before I even get it unbuckled, his lips are on mine, and my arms are around him as he pulls me out of the car in the middle of the busy Newark airport terminal pickup. I’m kissing the boy I’ve always loved while he spins me in a circle and kisses me back.

  “Hey! This is airport pickup, not make-out lane!” a woman with a very heavy New Jersey accent yells at us.

  Smiling against my lips, he sets me on my feet, turns his head, smiles that panty-melting smile, and in the most gentlemanlike way, he says to the female officer, “Sorry about that, miss.”

  “Boy, that smile may work on …” She stops and a look of realization crosses her face. “You’re Brand Falcon.”

  He nods. “Sorry about this. Been away for a month and missed my girl.”

  She looks at me and looks me up and down. “This your man?”

  I nod.

  “Can I get a picture with him?”

  “Of course.”

  “An autograph?”

  “Sure.” I laugh.

  “A date?”

  “You really just ask me that?” I huff.

  “Just messing with you.” She laughs.

  Somehow, I end up taking the picture of them, and she had the tits to ask me to take another one from a different angle. And yes, I did as asked.

  I climb into the driver’s side.

  “I know it’s your ride, babe, but I’d sure like to drive.”

  “You need your rest; let me drive so that I can ride later.”

  He opens his mouth a couple times then shuts it and shakes his head as he walks around to the passenger seat.

  As soon as his fine Lucky jean covered ass hits the seat, he leans over, kisses me again, then whispers, “You look and smell amazing.”

  “You, too. Now buckle up, cowboy. You’ve never ridden with me in the city, and you’re in for a treat.”

  As soon as we get on the highway, I tell him everything. When I offer to call Mom so he can ask her anything he wants and she can explain, he holds my hand a little tighter. Other than that, he’s quiet. Hell, I even turn on the radio, hoping his mood brightens. It doesn’t.

  Pulling into the doctor’s office parking lot, I’m a bit pissed.

  When I whip into my spot, he grabs the dash. “Easy, Katy.”

  “Oh, so you can speak.”

  He turns and looks at me but doesn’t say a damn thing. However, his eyes tell me he’s pissed.

  Quickly, I kill the engine, throw my buckle off, open the door, get out, and slam the door behind me.

  “Katy,” he calls calmly from behind me.

  It pisses me off, so I flip him off and keep on walking.

  When I hear my horn beep and glance over my shoulder, my steps falter when I see Brand walking toward me with my freaking purse draped over his shoulder as he tosses my keys inside it. I turn my head forward and walk faster to the door. When I get to it, I try to push instead of pull, and then … then I feel his hand on my hip, stopping me. He turns me around to face him.

  “Not ever going to fight with you, never stop loving you, not ever. But, Katy, you should have told me. Hurts that you didn’t.” He reaches around me and pulls the door open. “After you.”

  I walk inside and hurry to the elevator as his words sink in. I hurt him.

  I.

  Hurt.

  Him.

  Inside the elevator, I walk to the farthest corner and look at my feet to avoid looking at him.

  He walks in, stands right beside me, and links my pinky with his.

  “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “Me, too.”

  I look up at him, but he looks straight ahead.

  “Brand,” I whisper.

  He exhales slowly.

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  His eyes widen, and his nose flares a bit, yet he still doesn’t say anything.

  When the door opens, he steps forward, but I don’t move.

  He looks back. “This is the floor, correct?”

  I nod.

  “There a reason you’re not getting off?”

  I nod again, and he straddles the threshold to stop the door from sliding shut.

  “Gonna share it with me?”

  “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to help you.”

  “Help me?”

  “You didn’t want to leave when everything was fine. If I told you I had a defective heart, you would have—”

  “Processed it all with you.”

  “You’d have come home.”

  “That would have been a discussion you and I could have had.” He looks toward the office door. “We’re in this together.”

  “So, like the discussion over not
saying goodbye, or for you to read my private journals and make them songs?”

  He shifts his eyes between mine a couple times. “The not saying goodbye thing was to benefit both of us. The journal fell in my lap and also benefits both of us.”

  “So was this.” I place my hand over my heart.

  “Fuck.” He steps inside and hugs me tightly, so tightly.

  I hug him back. “Don’t you be mad at me when you just got back.”

  “Don’t you hold back on me again.”

  “I didn’t want—”

  “Katy”—he steps back and looks at me—“I can’t be half-in with you.”

  “You’re not.”

  “No, you don’t understand—”

  “I do understand. I really do. I promise I won’t.”

  Trust

  Brandon

  I’m being hard on her, and I don’t want to be. All I want to do is love her. The time I spent overseas when I wasn’t doing PR or shows, I spent inside her heart through her words.

  How fucking stupid was I not to pay attention to the dozens of times she redirected the conversation when I asked her about the very thing I cherished the most?

  The time apart, with an ocean between us, I fell even deeper in love with her, and finding out she didn’t think I could handle it made me angry and numb at the same time.

  When we check in with the receptionist, the woman recognizes me. She looks beyond us, where the whispers are already starting, and holds her finger up. “If you two would wait just a sec, I’ll have a room ready for you to wait in.”

  Within thirty seconds, we’re whisked into a room. Then Katy is weighed. Apparently, she’s gained a total of ten pounds since her first visit. The added weight must be all in her tits—they’re huge—and if I wasn’t a bit pissed and worried about her health, I’d be all over them right now. The nurse then checks her vitals before quickly leaving the room.

  Katy lies back on the exam table and runs her hand over her stomach. It’s only now that I see the curve in her belly.

  She closes her eyes and sighs. “Your daddy is pissed at me, baby.”

  “Do not that.”

  She gasps, and her eyes pop open as she holds her hand still.