STEELE
Seven and a half years ago…
A pout pulled at the pretty blonde girl's lips as she scowled at us, and I grinned. It annoyed her that I kept smiling, so I did it more just because it was fun to see the fire in her unusual violet-blue eyes.
Her delicate little hands clenched at her sides like she wanted to punch us both, this skinny little girl against two fifteen-year-old boys who'd been fighting since we were younger than her. It was funny, and it made me want to ruffle her hair or something.
"I don't need you to babysit me," the girl huffed. "I'm eleven years old. I can take care of myself."
My grin spread even wider. She had so much backbone; she reminded me of Arch.
He snorted a mocking laugh at my side, crossing his lanky arms across his chest. "Trust me, Princess Danvers, we have better things to do than babysit some spoiled, little brat while her mom plays gang whore for a week."
"You take that back!" she shouted. "You don't know anything! You're just a-a stupid boy." The girl's face screwed up in fury, and she lashed out, shoving Archer in the chest with her little hands.
He stumbled back a step, not having expected her to actually push him. But he also had a quick temper, and I recognized the flash of anger in his face. He didn't care that this girl was four years younger than us with no clue what a vipers’ nest she was standing in the middle of. He just saw someone challenging him, and Archer D'Ath never backed down from a challenge.
"Okay, come on," I said, angling myself to be slightly between the two of them. "Damien gave us an order," I reminded Arch with a hard glare. "And you have nowhere else to go right now," I said to the girl. Madison Kate. It was a pretty name, but it didn't suit her at all. Not that she wasn't pretty—she definitely was—but she had anger and stubbornness and bravado that contradicted that pretty, girly name.
"Let's just go hang out upstairs," I suggested, "before we get dragged into any more shit."
Archer gave me a grudging nod and turned to leave the seedy bar that we were way too young to be hanging out in. But no one was telling us what we could or couldn't do.
He didn't check if we were following, so I sighed and turned to the girl once more.
"Come on, Madison Kate," I coaxed, "we can just play Xbox and order pizzas. It'll be like a sleepover or some shit."
She frowned at me like I was stupid. "A sleepover with two gangster-wannabe boys? No, thanks. That's not my idea of fun." Her thin arms folded over her chest, and I noticed the red marks on her wrist where Damien had grabbed her arm earlier. It was probably going to bruise, with skin as pale as hers.
I shrugged. "What else are you going to do? You heard your mom. She doesn't wanna see you for the rest of the week."
Her stubborn face faltered, and a flash of real pain showed through. Fuck. Poor kid. She didn't deserve that shit… none of us did.
I let out a sigh. "You'll be safe with us, Madison Kate," I promised her, dropping the hard edge I usually used when I was in the Reaper clubhouse. "We won't let anything happen to you while you're here. Promise."
She scowled some more, then shot an uneasy look in the direction of the main bar, where her mom and Zane had disappeared to. Indecision was painted all over her pretty face, but eventually she sighed.
“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked as her shoulders drooped in defeat.
I smiled, knowing she’d made up her mind to trust us. “I’m Steele,” I replied, holding out a hand to her, “but you can call me Max if you want. That’s what my sister calls me.”
She reached out and took my hand with her delicate, cold fingers. “Well, okay then, Max. You can call me MK.”
I wrapped my hand around hers, pulling her after me as I made my way toward the stairs. “Nah,” I said back, flashing her a grin. “You look more like a Cat to me.”
Her blonde brows dipped low, but she kept following me up the stairs. “You can’t just change my name, Max. That’s rude. And I hate cats; they’re so mean.”
I laughed because she was exactly like a cat, all pretty and soft but quick to hiss and scratch at anyone she didn’t trust. Just like Archer… except, I guess, he didn’t look even the slightest bit soft.
This assignment was either going to be a heap of fun or a goddamn nightmare.
Present…
Pain wracked my body, and I tried to draw a breath. Only a tiny amount of air made it into my lungs before blood choked me and my chest spasmed.
Fuck. I'd been shot.
I couldn't move enough to get up; I couldn't even turn my head if I wanted to. But I didn't. I never wanted to look away from those beautiful, violet-blue eyes that stared back at me. If she was the last thing I saw before I died...
My ears were ringing a high-pitched whine broken only by ragged, wet gasps as I tried to breathe. I was drowning in my own blood; there was no question about it. I guessed it was just a race to see which killed me first, the bullet wound or asphyxiation.
Movement jolted me back to the present before I even realized I'd started to drift away. Pain radiated through me again as someone scooped me up off the ground and ran.
I tried to scream, but no noise came out, just more blood spilling from my lips as I choked.
"...stay with me, you bastard," Archer's rough demand cut through the ringing in my ears, and I wanted to laugh. Of course he'd still be cursing me out as I died.
More jostling dominated my attention as he stuffed me into the back of the car, and the pain of it all made me black out.
Maybe that was it?
But soft, floral-scented hair brushed my face, dragging me back to consciousness as gentle lips kissed my cheek.
She was here. My girl was here. I couldn't leave her yet... not yet. She needed me; she needed us. I couldn't fucking die. Not now.
"...Max, please don't go," she whispered, her voice choked with the tears that fell on my skin. "Please. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, this is all my fault. Please, Max, please..."
A low rumble of voices from the front of the car reached my ears, but I couldn't make out the words. No doubt Arch was driving like a damn bat out of hell to get me to a hospital. I wanted to shout at him to hurry the fuck up. My girl needed me, and I wasn't going out like this. To some cowardly fuck shooting from the shadows? Hell no. Max Steele wouldn’t be wiped off the board that easily.
Except... I was pretty sure I was dying, no matter how fast my friend drove.
Blood choked me again, and my Hellcat turned my face so it could drain out. It gave me a fraction’s respite. Enough that I could hear her next words clearly.
"You can't die yet," she whispered in my ear. "You can't. I’ve never even told you that I love you, but I do. I love you so fucking much, Max Steele. Please, please don't leave me."
Shit, beautiful girl... if only I had the choice.
Seven and a half years ago...
Zane's fist landed a hard blow across his little brother's face, and MK's hand gripped mine tighter. It was the only sign she showed of being afraid. Her face, with such delicate features, not betraying anything as Zane beat the shit out of Archer in front of us.