Protecting a Steele (The Steele Bros Book 3) Read online

  “C’ mon, Reg. Do me a solid and just keep this under wraps for a week or two tops. By that point, I’ll have Madigan somewhere safe down here and the cat will be outta the bag.”

  “No, I’m not lying for you.” I’m firm in my decision. It’s obvious he isn’t thinking clearly. The moment I lie to his family is the second I will be outside of the circle of trust, cast out, fired. I’d lose everything and that’s simply something I can’t afford to lose. No one realizes it, but a lot of people depend on me and the money I make here.

  Christian throws his hands up in frustration, “I need you to keep this to yourself for a few days, Reg. Please, don’t lie, just keep it to yourself until I can figure out how to get Madigan out of her shitty situation. She’s gotten involved with the wrong people and wouldn’t have called me if she wasn’t desperate. I’m trying to keep a Steele safe. Isn’t that your job? Protecting Steeles?”

  I clench my fist in anger, “Don’t you ever use my duty to this family against me like that again.”

  “Then fucking help me! As I said, don’t lie. Just don’t bring it up. She just called me about thirty minutes ago and I’ll do my best to get her somewhere safe. She’s going to contact me when she gets out of the city and then I can arrange some sort of transportation for her to get down here. You know as well as I do, we’re always safer in larger numbers.”

  Part of me wants to say fuck this and go to Logan, spilling the secrets Christian has just revealed to me, but the other part of me is saying that would only ruin his wedding day and cause unnecessary drama. Christian might not realize it, but today, he’s won the battle. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut but don’t get shit twisted. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Logan and Brooklyn. I won’t ruin their big day. Now, you can talk to him about transferring me from Brooklyn’s detail later. If I’ll be watching your sister than I need to know everything there is about her.”

  “Alright. We should get started then. The two of us might end up being here all night.”

  2

  “Pain makes you stronger, fear makes you braver, heartbreak makes you wiser.”

  ~Quotes ‘Nd Notes

  Madigan

  The gala started ten minutes ago on the east side of Manhattan and I’ve just crossed through the tunnel to Jersey City. I can feel my heart pounding from my chest all the way to my temple. My nerves are shot and I’m barely breathing as I white knuckle the steering wheel. I can’t seem to get out of the city fast enough, but now, the real battle begins. Freedom is close and yet so far away. The only way I’ll get there is with some serious determination and not chickening out.

  About thirty minutes ago, I called my brother Christian and told him I needed help. I’ve always made a silent oath to myself that I’d never do this, but I didn’t see another feasible option. It was after I already got in the car and started my trek to get out of the city. I was even in my gown for the gala so none of the staff would be suspicious. The Falcones are always watching those who are close to them. Franco isn’t paranoid but much like an eagle, he surveys his land from above.

  Christian said he’d help me, but I think things will be a lot trickier than either of us realize. You see, things are complicated when it comes to my family. Christian is the only one who knows about my existence and it’s only because we both snuck out to our father’s lake house one summer and crossed paths. An entirely coincidental, but extremely life-changing discovery. I still find it ironic that the two of us came to the one place where we remembered our father the most, and the fact dad took us to the exact same lake house blows my mind. You’d think he’d take me to a completely different location, but no.

  As his mistress’s daughter, I knew of my three brothers, however, we were never allowed to see each other. When I was thirteen, my father told me the reality of what I was, something that was unplanned but viewed as precious. Given that information, he gave me a choice. I could either keep my father’s identity a secret and in doing so, continue to have him in my life on a basis where he would come by a couple of times a year and visit me on my birthday, or I could tell my friends and lose my dad for good. He only gave me this offer after I told one of my friends who my father was. Only back then, I didn’t realize this was never an offer. Instead, it was an ultimatum, and the first one I remember having in my life.

  You see, it wasn’t easy growing up with a rich, well-known mother. No one bought the fact that she was a ‘single mom’. She’d won two Emmys, three Golden Globes, and a few other awards that I can’t remember. That’s actually how they met. My mother was on set and my father was friends with the producer. He offered him a day behind the scenes of the production of one of the films my mother won an Emmy for.

  I scan the dark streets and wonder what my next step is, but I don’t know. I wish I’d have thought this entire thing through, but I didn’t. The only thing I’ve planned is getting the fuck out of the city and calling my brother, who has enough power to protect me.

  My entire life I have hidden the fact I’m a Steele, but how can I continue to do that when it’s the one thing that may be able to save me? My father didn’t want the world to know about his dirty little secret and they never did. Not while he was alive at least. I even went to his funeral and sat in the back like some random woman.

  Christian obviously knew who I was, but he couldn’t even comfort me because of all the watching eyes. I had to grieve alone, except when we went into a private room and he hugged me. My brother sat there and let me cry to him for over an hour. I don’t remember much from that day except the grief, and the stares of the people saying goodbye to my father as Christian and I left that room together said it all— they thought we were going for a romp in the sack.

  I pull over at a small gas station and walk inside, slinging a large purse over my shoulder. “Do you have a restroom?” I ask the cashier, who looks me up and down like I shouldn’t be walking in here. I can imagine why he’s so confused. A beautiful woman walks into a grungy gas station looking for what exactly?

  He nods once, handing me a key. “Yeah, go around the side of the building. It’s the first door on the left.”

  “Thank you,” I say, offering a small smile as I place one foot in front of the other. I take in a deep breath as I walk out of the station, toward the bathroom. Inserting the key in the door, I unlock it and step inside. It smells atrocious in here, like an entire family of rats decided to all die in the same spot. The only thing I want to do right now is hurl from the stench.

  All I have to do is change into more comfortable clothes and then I can be on my way, I silently tell myself, trying to muster up the courage of being in here a bit longer. I slide the dress down my body and let it hit the floor, grabbing the pair of jeans from my purse and kicking off my death trap heels. I don’t want my feet to touch the grimy tile floor that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years, so I make sure to keep my feet on the dress while I slide the jeans on.

  I dig my hand deeper in my purse and grab the pair of chucks at the bottom of it and place them on my feet before grabbing my long sleeve shirt. Picking my purse up off the floor, I stare at myself in the mirror and speak out loud. “You got this, Madigan. You’re getting the fuck out of this prison and you’ll be safe.”

  Pushing the bathroom door open, I grab the key and head toward the front. Going back in the station, I grab a throwaway phone. “I need you to put one hundred minutes on this,” I say, waiting to hear the total.

  He spits it out to me and I hand him a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change,” I say, heading straight toward the door and back out to my car. I toss my purse in the passenger seat and take out my iPhone. After sliding it under the wheel of the car, I reverse over it. There’s no way the Falcones will be able to track me without that.

  Continuing to breathe in and out, I try my hardest not to freak out. It won’t do me any good, but neither would be planning too far ahead. I surely would’ve cracked under the pressure of the environment I
was living in. The Falcones would have known something was up if I had festered on it. Everything is better this way. At least, that’s what I’ll continue to tell myself.

  I don’t have much of a plan but one thing I do know is that I have to go south. If I follow I-95, it will just keep taking me down the states, but if I can get to Baltimore or even Virginia, I’m sure I can breathe a little easier.

  For the next twenty minutes, I pay close attention to my surroundings, making sure I don’t see any Capos from the streets. They’d recognize my car in a heartbeat, even being in Jersey. The Falcones run everything close to New York, while a few of them live on this side of Jersey City. It feels like some real-life Scarface shit, to be honest.

  I pick up the cell phone and call Christian, praying to whatever God is in the sky that the two of us will somehow have a plan by now.

  3

  Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out

  ~ Robert Collier

  Reggie

  Christian wasn’t wrong in the fact it could’ve taken us all night. We’d sat in that room, and I learned everything I could about Madigan in a short amount of time. I don’t think one bit of what he told me will help me, though. No, in my experience, I have to meet the woman and understand who she is. That is something that can’t be rushed.

  I stare at the white ceiling as I lay in bed, unable to rest my mind. Christian said she was in trouble but failed to elaborate on what that meant. He said he’d call me when the time came and I would be needed. I feel like that will happen sooner rather than later.

  Even now, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact there is another Steele on this planet. It’s hard enough keeping these three safe. How has this woman, who no doubt has had no security detail, managed to stay alive for this long? The enemies this family has, are far too many to count.

  A buzzing sound jolts me and I pick my phone off the bedside table next to me, “Yes?”

  “Madigan just called me. She’s heading down I-95 south and was hoping to stop in Baltimore. I’ve told her to continue on. She’ll be in Charleston in a few more hours. Given the situation, I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to stop. Take the jet and meet her there. I believe your job is pretty clear, Reggie. Get my sister and bring her home.”

  Placing my hands under my body, I push myself up speaking into the phone. “And where is that exactly? Whose home am I taking her to? Yours? Logan’s? Jordan’s? Where is home?”

  “I’ve rented a townhouse for her. There’s no need for you to be crass with me,” Christian spits out, obviously irritated.

  “I will be as crass as I’d like with you. Do you have any idea what type of position you’ve put this entire family in? We know nothing about the threats that come along with her. All I know is that she’s in danger, Christian. Surely, you’d feel the need to give me a little bit more information than that.”

  “I’m sorry but I don’t have all the answers you seek. Madigan hasn’t gone into detail with me. Honestly, you’ll probably be the one she tells first. Look, we don’t have enough time. You need to get to the airstrip and into Charleston as soon as possible. Take a couple of men with you but please be discreet. I’ll notify Logan that you’re doing a favor for me so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

  “A favor? Shouldn’t you be telling him about your fucking sister?” I hiss, hopping out of bed. I grab clothes as fast as I can, making sure I’m in my normal ensemble. It’s a little past five in the morning so I should be there by seven, maybe a little later depending on when I can take off.

  “You worry about Madigan and I’ll worry about the rest.” Christian tries to shut me down, telling me he hasn’t said a word to anyone. Great. This is going to be fabulous.

  “Does she know where to meet me?” I ask, sliding on my trousers.

  “Yes, I gave her the name of the airport. Look, I’m sorry I don’t have all the details you need. All I can say is that she got mixed up with the wrong people. I don’t know who, but I can imagine what happened. That won’t do us any good. Only having the facts will.”

  “If you’re about to tell me that she’s a nice girl, who fell for the wrong guy then I might beat your damn head in the next time I see you.”

  Christian chuckles for a moment, “Well, it looks like you’ll be doing exactly that later. When she’s on board, get your ass back here and I’ll text you the address of the townhome I’m renting for her. I’ll bring Logan and Jordan with me later. Let’s just say around six this evening. If Madigan needs anything and I mean anything, get it for her. Use the company card.”

  Logan had given me a credit card a couple of years ago after I began working for him. It’s for any sort of expense I may have. Whether it’s gasoline or food, we’re covered.

  “Got it,” I murmur, grabbing the dress shirt I set down on top of my dresser before I went to bed. Just as I’m about to hang up the phone, something comes to mind from the conversation Christian and I had earlier. “Didn’t you say something about the Falcones?”

  “Yes, I said that Madigan knows the Falcone family. Her mother is not only an award-winning actress but a very well-known New York socialite. Why? What’s the problem?”

  “We only have a problem if your sister pissed off the wrong people. Surely, you know the Falcones run the mafia. They’re infamous for their torture techniques.”

  “Jesus. I don’t really know who she pissed off, but Madigan is smart. If it was something she could’ve gotten out of herself, she would’ve. She’s never asked me for help before, Reggie. It’s why I’m so fucking nervous.”

  I may be pissed, but I’ll put Christian’s worries to ease if I can. “There isn’t anything that we can’t be prepared for. The important thing is she told you she needed help. I’ll go get her, bring her to her house, and then we’ll figure out the next step.”

  “You mean the part where my brothers crucify me for keeping this secret,” Christian adds.

  “Possibly. Regardless, we’ll take it one step at a time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get a Steele princess.”

  4

  “Strength is being able to stand in the same room as your trigger while not letting it get to you like it holds all the power.”

  ~ Kayil York

  Madigan

  I wanted to throttle Christian when he told me to keep driving. Every waking moment I’m in this damn car, I get more nauseous. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll subside until I’m in Atlanta. Until I’m face to face with the people who I know will protect me. Well, maybe, I don’t know if they will. I’m just a naïve girl, who is riding on hope right now.

  Charleston, South Carolina is a long way from Baltimore, but I understand why he wants me to keep going. The further I get away from my problems, the safer I am.

  It’s been a long journey, but finally, I’m about five minutes away from the private airport Christian said I needed to get to. He said a friend would escort me back to Atlanta, whatever the hell that means. I’m just thankful I’ve been able to drive all the way here without too much trouble.

  Ditching my phone might’ve been smart but now, I’m thinking that I royally fucked up. I’ve driven the car that Vinny bought me all the way from New York to Charleston . . . a car that he’s probably put a tracking device on. I assumed my phone would’ve been bugged but I didn’t think this far ahead. Jesus. The Falcones maintain control over every aspect of their lives, including the people in it. Their heads are filled with paranoia which I suppose they should be considering what they do for work. Too many people have ratted them out over the years for there to be any sort of trust level left for anyone outside of their family.

  The GPS on my dashboard tells me that my ETA is three minutes, so I press on the gas and try to speed that up. If I’m lucky, my brother’s escort will already be waiting for me and we can get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.

  The next few minutes fly by in the blink of an eye. The only objective in my sight i
s getting to the airport. I’m trying my hardest to not allow every doubt that fills my mind to come crashing in like a tidal wave— doing my best, but ultimately failing at it.

  Six-foot fencing comes into view with orange flashing lights on the pavement, showing me I’m getting close to where I need to be. I drive up the road about a quarter of a mile and come to a parking lot with a building right next to it. Quickly, I park the car, grab my purse and pay as I go phone, and head inside. The South Carolina humidity hits me like a brick wall, causing me to put a pep in my step. I want to get in the air conditioning as soon as possible.

  Walking towards the double doors, I place my hand on the knob and pull it open, going inside. This is undoubtedly the smallest airport I’ve ever been to in my entire life. There isn’t a TSA check-in from the looks of it. It’s just one large room with seating for about twenty people, in the most uncomfortable plastic chairs from the looks of it. Shoot, and I thought private airports had more class than this. At least in the North, they do.

  “Are you Madigan?” a deep, masculine voice asks me. I turn around and come face to face with a man in full business attire. His suit jacket is a deep blue with matching pants. A white dress shirt fills his frame with a checkered black and blue tie. He has a slight tan which tells me he must be outside quite a bit. His hair is an ashy brown that’s shaved down into a buzz cut. I think this could be the guy who is supposed to meet me, but his swimmer’s physique makes me highly doubt he’s the muscle.

  “Depends who's asking,” I say, scanning my eyes up and down this handsome creature.