24
Steele
She broke down last night. I put her in bed and watched her worn out body as she slept. Her words ring in my head and I can’t make them stop, not even now as I watch her on the front deck, headphones in her ears as she dances freely.
“She okay?” Callan asks, taking a seat next to me.
“No.”
“That’s it? Just no?” He chuckles.
“She’s messed up, Callan. She killed Nathan and Debra.”
“Shit,” he hisses under his breath. Shit is right.
“You talk to her?” I shake my head.
“She was a mess. Fell asleep.”
“She looks okay today,” he says, sounding as confused as I feel.
“Yeah, doesn’t make any sense does it?” He looks over at me and I shrug.
“You think she’s planning something.” It isn’t a question and if I can feel it, so can he. I nod my head once when she spins around and spots us watching her. A smile tugs across her face before she goes back to her dancing.
“You see that? Last night she was breaking down in tears. Shaking and not able to talk. Now she’s dancing and smiling, Callan. Fucking smiling!” I growl.
“She’s coping.”
“No, it’s more than that.” I bring the cup of coffee to my lips and watch her a little more. She’s up to something. I can feel it. But what? What does she know that I don’t?
“What do you want to do?”
“Our plan needs to move faster than we planned on. Dad needs out. McLean needs handled.”
“I agree but how are we going to get them all at once? By now they have to know about Nathan and Debra.”
“They don’t give a shit about them,” I add.
“No, probably not, but who the hell were they delivering her to?” That’s a damn good question. One I don’t have an answer for. I lean back in my seat and take her in. The way she moves, her body flexing. It would be wrong to keep her. It would be wrong to want to claim her and give her the goddamn world. So why do I want to do just that?
“Can I do anything?” Shane’s voice sounds behind us. Callan turns, looking over his shoulder with a smile. He nods for her to come to him and she does.
“We’re just thinking. You okay?” he asks her. I know he’s missed her. Shit went down with our dad years ago. Shane got stuck in the middle and the fact that she was basically a nobody had Callan choosing sides. My dad told him that if he didn’t want her to suffer, he would walk away. He did just that and it broke the man in the process.
“Dad,” I say softly.
“What?”
“Dad. Who the hell else would stand to lose anything? Her mom’s dead. Has been for years.”
“And her dad? Where the hell is Macron?” That’s the question isn’t it. Where he is?
“We need to go see Andy.”
“McLean? Why?” Callan asks.
“Think about it. Dad has kept tabs on him for years. Why? Why does he care what that asshole does? We have far more power than he does.”
“Jesus Christ,” Callan mumbles. It all must hit him at once. I smell the weed before Knox comes strolling in with a joint between his lips.
“What are we talking about?” he asks, passing me the joint. I take it in my fingers and bring it to my lips, inhaling deeply.
“We just figured out who Whisper’s dad is,” I inform him. He looks at me and furrows his brows.
“Who?”
“Andy McLean.”
“Bullshit,” he says with a half smirk.
“Think about it. Dad keeps Andy close, right? Why? Why would he do that? The Alder’s run it all. The only one that could possibly challenge that is that little dancer out there on the porch.” All eyes turn to her. She must feel it because she stops dancing and slowly turns to face us all. Her eyes bounce from one person to the next before they stop on mine. I motion for her to come inside and I’m almost shocked when she does.
“What the hell are you all staring at?”
“We think we know who your real dad is,” I inform her.
“What? Who?”
“Andy McLean.” She shakes her head slowly, her lips parting. “What? What is it?”
“A. M.”
“What?”
“A. M…” she shakes her head. “I’ve had a phone number. It was given to me so long ago. I…”
“What number, Whisper? What are you talking about?”
“A number! The initials on the paper were A. M. I was told that if I ever got into too much trouble to call the number! I never called it. I never thought about it. I just saved it in my phone and that was it. I didn’t need any help. I’ve never needed help!” I shove out of my chair and grab her shoulders, forcing her to calm down and focus on me.
“Whisper. It could be a trap. I need to know that number.” She shakes her head, looking confused, but pulls her phone from her pocket. She passes it to me, and I tap the screen pulling up her contacts. A. M. is right there at the top. I almost lose it when I open it and see the number attached.
“You have got to be shitting me!” I roar, squeezing the phone in my hand so hard I’m afraid it may snap.
“What? Who is it?” Knox moves to stand closer to me. Shock is a bitch. I can feel it in my chest. The phone is taken from my hands.
“It’s Ray. It’s Ray’s number,” Knox says.
“No way. What the hell does Ray have to do with any of this?” Callan roars as he jumps to his feet. It’s all too damn much. I’ve trusted Ray. He’s been more of a father to me than my own has.
“Steele?” Whisper says my name, but I can’t deal with her right now. “Steele?” One more time and I snap. I drag my heated gaze toward her, anger and rage coursing through my veins. Grabbing her around the back of the neck, I slam her body against the wall.
“Stop saying my name!”
“Steele!” Knox roars.
“You are fucking up everything! Maybe I should be the one to hand you over, huh? Pass you off to Dad so he can kill you as planned?”
“Steele!” This time it’s Callan.
“Do your best, Steele. You think I haven’t been broken before?”
“Not by me.” She laughs. Laughs in my face.
“You aren’t the worst of the worst, Steele. You think you are. I’ve brushed myself off every single time and you know what? I’ve picked up the pieces and glued them together all by myself.” Why does that piss me off more?
“The problem with me? I will take those pieces, Whisper. I’ll take them and you will never get them back,” I growl in her face.
“That’s enough, Steele!” Callan’s hands come down on my shoulders jerking me away from Whisper. I watch the fire, that spark in her eyes as it ignites. She wants to push me, and God help me I want her to. Instead, I turn on my heel and storm toward the basement door.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” I stop dead in my tracks when I hear her voice. Slowly, I turn to face her. The look in her eyes, God, why does she affect me like this?
“I already did.” She tilts her head to the side to study me a second.