22. Steel

22

Steel

Soul stops at my side the moment I shut the door to my truck, eyeing Austin sitting in the passenger seat.

“Where’s your girl today, Steel?” He knocks me on the shoulder as I walk around the front.

“Not my girl.”

“So you don’t care if I have a run at her then?” Soul grins when I freeze in place. “Cute little thing. Fiery, too, from what I’ve heard. I’m sure she’d—”

I grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. “I’ll strip you of your fucking cut if you finish that sentence.”

“Mm-hmm.” Soul smiles, fixing his shirt when I release him. “That’s what I thought. Not your girl. Not your kid either, apparently.”

He looks over at Austin sitting in my truck, grinning.

“Don’t you have an engine to fix?” I push my hair off my forehead, circling the car to open Austin’s door. “Go do that. ”

Soul stalks off, still grinning and seeing through all my shit. It’s why he’s pissing me off—to see what it will take to make me admit what Tempe is to me.

And now here I am, babysitting her brother instead of letting someone more qualified do it. All because Grandma had an appointment today, and Tempe was called into work.

She offered to call one of her friends from school, but the thought of anyone watching him but me pissed me off.

I’m fucking losing it.

Now I’m here at Kings Auto with a four-year-old.

I promised Havoc I’d help while Legacy meets with the contractor about the repairs at Sapphire Rise, and luckily, Austin doesn’t seem to mind tagging along.

“This is the coolest.” Austin hops out of his booster seat, his eyes widening as he looks around the auto body shop. “Is this where you make the bikes superfast?”

“Sometimes.” I plant my hand on the top of his head and lead him into the garage. “Most of the time, we’re just tuning them up.”

“Hey, Steel. Brought us an extra set of hands?” Havoc looks up from the engine he’s working on to wave at Austin.

“Jameson’s gonna teach me how to oil his motorcycle,” Austin answers proudly.

“Change the oil.” I pat him on the top of the head.

“Got it.” Havoc laughs, turning back to the engine he’s rebuilding while I lead Austin to one of the far bays in the garage .

I brought my bike in earlier for maintenance and was halfway done when I got the call about Tempe not having a babysitter. Soul had a lot to say about how fast I jumped in the truck when I hung up, but I ignored him.

“You ever worked on a bike before, big man?” I ask Austin, leading him over to mine.

“No.” He squats down, looking it over. “What’s this?”

“The muffler.”

He points above it.

“Footrest.”

“Is this the engine?” He points to the gas tank.

“Nah, this is.” I tap the engine.

“Cool.” Austin smiles. “Havoc told me you’d show me all the parts.”

He looks up, and the excitement in his eyes floods my chest.

I’ve worked at the garage on and off since I was sixteen and trained plenty of guys on the ins and outs of fixing a bike. But with Austin looking up at me like I’ve got the secrets to the universe in my back pocket, I want to sit here and teach him everything I know.

I want to show him how to take the bike apart piece by piece and put it back together, just like my father did.

“I’ll show you anything you want, kid.” I try to bury whatever that thought was that just rustled up inside me. “But let’s start simple with changing the oil.”

Austin hops up, following me around the garage while I gather everything I need. He asks me what everything is from the socket wrench to the oil pan. And he surprises me by memorizing each item the first time I tell him .

“Maybe you got a little mechanic in you, kid.”

Austin smiles. “You think I could build a car when I grow up?”

“If you want to.” I shrug, squatting down while Austin mirrors my exact movement. “I was just a little older than you the first time I helped rebuild a bike. My dad got a 1925 Harley Davidson JD motorcycle for us to work on. We spent a year taking it apart and putting it back together. We restored it until it was as good as new.”

Working on that bike with my dad is still one of my favorite memories. He got it shortly after we lost Wyatt, and he used it to keep me busy while Mom slowly deteriorated.

We finished it after we’d already lost her, but to this day, that bike still reminds me of the in-between. The good in the middle. Before everything about my father got a little colder.

“Is this the bike?” He points to my motorcycle.

I shake my head. “No, that one’s in the garage back at home. Maybe I can show you sometime.”

Austin smiles so big it lights up his whole face.

“All right. First things first, we need to drain the oil.”

I hand Austin a rag and get to work, explaining every step as I go. Austin holds the parts and hands them to me as I need them, asking questions about every step of the process. He’s more observant than I expected, but I haven’t spent much time around kids, so it’s not like I know what to expect.

“You wanna pour?” I ask, positioning the funnel when we’re ready to fill it back up again .

“Really?” His eyes widen.

“Sure thing.” I hand him the oil, keeping hold of the bottom to balance it. “Pour slowly into here.”

He tips up a little too quickly at first, so I have to slow it down.

“Patience.” I steady it. “Nice and slow.”

Austin chews his bottom lip as he focuses. His eyes squint like it’s the most important task he’s undertaken.

“Perfect.” I stop the flow and take the oil from him.

We check the level a final time, and it’s done.

“Now we just gotta run it.” I stand up, swinging my leg over my bike. “Stand back for a second.”

Austin presses his back to the wall of the bay, and I rev the engine, letting the oil run through it for a minute before cutting it off.

“That’s loud.” Austin’s eyes are wide as he watches me climb off my bike.

“You get used to it.” I shrug.

“I like it.”

“Me too, kid. I always found the rumble of the motorcycle calming.”

“Someday, I’m gonna learn to ride a bike.” He swishes his cape around. “No training wheels.”

“You got one back home?”

Austin shakes his head. “Bikes cost lots of monies. Tempe said maybe for my birthday.”

A knot forms in my throat, and I get the sudden urge to drive him to the store to pick out a bike. Before he has a chance to notice, I turn, setting my rag aside and moving to the sink to wash my hands .

Austin follows, stepping up on a bucket to wash his hands beside me. “If I get a bike for my birthday, will you show me how to ride it?”

I should tell him I don’t know if he’ll still be here. And if he’s not, I doubt his sister is going to want to be around me after what a dick I’ve been to her. But I don’t have the heart when he blinks up at me with such innocence.

Planting a hand on his head, I shake his hair around. “For sure, kid.”

“You’re the best, Jameson.” Austin smiles, jumping up and down beside me, landing in a different superhero pose each time he does. “What’s next?”

“The most important part,” I tell him. “Cleaning up.”

Austin frowns, his shoulders deflating. “That’s no fun.”

“It’s not all about fun, big man. But if you take pride in something, you take care of it. From the oil change to the cleanup. Isn’t that right, Havoc?”

Havoc pops his head up in the adjoining bay. “That’s right.”

“I guess.” Austin frowns, but he doesn’t argue as we start cleaning up.

“He must be superstrong,” Austin says, looking at Havoc, who is carrying a box of parts over to Soul.

“One of the strongest.”

Austin looks up at me. “Does your cape make you strong?”

“Cape?”

He reaches up and touches my cut. “It’s a cape, right? You’re always wearing it. ”

I look down at where his fingers graze over the stitching. “I guess you could call it that.”

“My cape makes me feel strong.” He grabs it again and swishes it around. “Does your cape do that?”

Austin hugs the blue fabric around his body, curling into it as he watches me.

“Honestly? I’ve never thought about it like that.” I squat down, bringing myself to his level. “I guess it makes me strong, even if not for the reasons you might think.”

His eyebrows pinch.

“The cape isn’t what gives you your superpowers, Austin.” I brush my hands down the front of my cut. “It shows your loyalty. Your commitment. Your cape tells people what you represent and who you’re willing to protect. But at the end of the day, the cape is just the symbol. What really matters is what you do when it comes down to it. The people at your side when you’re fighting your way through. You’re only as strong as the people you’re willing to protect and the people who care about protecting you.”

“Like family?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Like family.”

After all, for me, that’s the Twisted Kings.

“Maybe someday, I’ll have a cape like yours.”

“If that’s what you want.” I swallow hard, not sure why his comment stirs something up.

In my family, there’s only one real tradition: passing down the cut .

I figured I’d skip that part. But with Austin looking up at me, he has me questioning what I might be missing out on.

“You ready for our final task?” I change the subject before I can think too much about it.

“Like a secret mission?”

“Sure.”

“Then yes!” He cheers, and it’s impossible to bite back my grin at his excitement.

“Here.” I hand him a tire pressure gauge.

“What’s this?”

“To check the tire pressure.” I push the front tire. “This one should be good.”

“How do you know?” His eyebrows scrunch.

“You get used to the feel of it after a while,” I tell him. “But it’s always better to double-check. Safety first.”

I help him with the gauge as we check the pressure, confirming what I thought. “Perfect.”

Austin hums, pushing the front tire.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Feeling it.”

I grin, watching him press his whole hand on the tire, trying to figure out what I’m talking about.

“Ready to check the back?”

Austin nods, moving his hand to that one, doing the same thing he was in the front. He’s not pushing hard enough to actually get a read, but I appreciate the attempt.

“What do you think? ”

Austin pushes again, his whole face scrunching. “I think it’s good.”

“Let’s double-check.” I squat down and help him with the gauge. “You’re right, it’s perfect.”

“It is?” His eyes widen as he looks at me.

I nod. “Yep, you’ve got a knack for this.”

“I did it.” He smiles so big, his blue eyes scrunch closed. “Maybe it’s my superpower.”

“Maybe. Either way, I think you’ve found your calling, kid.” I hold up a hand for him to give me a high five, but he throws himself at me, wrapping me in the biggest hug.

Pure.

Unapologetic.

I’m frozen for a second, not sure how to respond.

Kids don’t hug me. They barely talk to me. But as I place my hands on his back and pat it, he sinks into my hold and hugs me with his whole body. Like I’ve only seen him do with Tempe.

The protective urge that roars up in my chest has never felt as big as it does with Austin in my arms. He trusts me like I deserve it. Like he knows I’d never let anything happen to him.

I’ve thought a lot about family, deciding the club was the only one I needed. But with Austin in my arms, I can’t help wondering if Legacy is right. Because whether I wanted it or not, Tempe and Austin are becoming something more than whatever I keep saying they are to me.

They’re mine.

I’ve never felt as whole as I do with Tempe and Austin in my life, and I still can’t decide what to do with that .

“Prez.” Havoc stops beside us, and Austin pulls out of my grasp.

“What’s up?” I stand, brushing off my chest as if it can erase whatever just shifted inside me.

Havoc turns, dropping his voice so Austin can’t hear him. “It’s Tempe.”

“What about her?” My entire body is on alert the second he says her name.

Havoc glances at Austin once more, but he’s distracted. “There’s been an incident at the bar—”

I toss the tire pressure gauge in the toolbox and slam it shut before he can finish his sentence. “Austin, we gotta go.”

“She’s okay.” Havoc follows. “Jameson, slow down, she’s good. Sonny can bring her back here.”

“No. Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. She’s not his responsibility.” I open the door for Austin, slamming it shut behind him. “She’s mine.”

And it’s damn time I start acting like it.