Page 63 of Twisted Steel

Me:Physically.

Milo:Emotionally?

Me:Don’t be invasive.

Milo:So ...no.

I almost smile, but my eyes drift to the automatic doors at the end of the hall.Still nothing.

One of the guards, a broad man with a red beard and a scar through one eyebrow, glances at me.His name is Knox or Nash or something equally biker-shaped.He has been pretending not to watch me for forty minutes.

“You can sit,” I tell him.

He stiffens.“I’m good.”

“You look ridiculous standing there like a nightclub bouncer for trauma surgery.”

His mouth twitches.“Orders.”

“Of course.”

The other guard, who looks younger, says nothing.He keeps his eyes on the elevator, one hand close to his jacket.These are Steel’s men.Not mine.Except they’re here because of me.

Dante is still under the knife because of me too.Or maybe I’m alive because he bled his conscience out on the clubhouse floor.The lines are getting messy, and I hate messy lines.

A woman drops into the chair beside mine without asking, and I jerk so hard my shoulder hits the plastic armrest.

She looks at me with dark, sharp eyes and a mouth made for bad decisions.“Relax,” she says.“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do it in front of the depressing vending machine.”

I blink at her.

Leather jacket.Black jeans.Boots.Knife at her hip like jewelry for the violently prepared.Her hair falls loose around her face, and she carries herself like she has walked through hell, critiqued the décor, and stolen the matches on the way out.

“You’re Raven,” I say.

Her brow lifts.“Steel mentioned me?”

“No.Mama M did.”

“Ah.”Her mouth curves.“Then I’m sure the version was flattering and completely free of threats.”

“She said you were Savage’s woman.”

Raven laughs once.“Did she now?”

I instantly regret speaking.“I may have shortened the sentence,” I say.

“Good.Because I’m nobody’s anything unless I decide the sentence myself.”

I stare at her.Okay.I might like her...Against my will, obviously.I’m in a very hostile emotional climate.

Raven leans back in her chair, gaze sweeping the hallway once.Not casual or nervous, but assessing.Like Steel, but sharper in a different way.Less wall.More blade.

“Savage sent you?”I ask.

“Yes.”

“To babysit me?”