Page 59 of Twisted Steel

Not trapping, just holding.Her eyes jump to mine.

“You shouldn’t have baited him,” I say.

Her mouth trembles once before she gets control of it.“You’re welcome.”

“Harper.”

“He wanted you wild.I thought annoying him would be more productive.”

Savage exhales through his nose.“She’s not wrong.”

I look at him.“Don’t encourage her.”

“She doesn’t need encouragement.”There’s a smirk on his face that I want to smack off.

Harper tries to pull her hand back, and this time, I let her go even though every part of me wants to keep that touch against my chest until I can breathe right again.

Savage turns to Saint.“Get Fury, Crimson, and two vans.No bikes near the warehouse until we know lines of fire.I want eyes, exits, and a back door before we move.”

Saint nods and walks off.

Savage looks at Harper.“You stay at the hospital until Dante comes out.Mama M is sending two men to sit outside the surgical floor, and Raven is on her way.”

Harper glances at me, and I hate that she checks my reaction.I hate that I like it more.

“And Steel?”she asks.

Savage’s gaze cuts to mine.“Steel follows orders.”

The words sit heavy, and Harper watches me.There’s fear in her eyes now, but not of me.For me.And that might be the thing that finally ruins me.

“I follow orders,” I say, and her shoulders lower a fraction.

Savage nods and walks away to make calls, leaving us in the wreckage of cracked vending glass, drying blood, and everything we’re not saying.

“You punched hospital property,” Harper says, and I shrug.“That’s probably frowned upon.”

“Probably.”

“You know I’m mad about it.”

“I know.”

“You also know I’m not as mad as I should be.”

My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop it, and her breath catches.

The hospital around us fades.Bad lighting.Antiseptic.Distant monitors.None of it matters when she looks at me like that.Like, she sees the monster and the man and hasn’t decided which one to run from.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say.

Her brows pull together.“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about kissing me.”

Color rises in her cheeks.“I’m not.”

“Liar,” I whisper and lean closer.