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

He takes a few steps toward me, extending his hand. “My name is Reggie. Your arrogant bastard of a brother sent me.”

  Unable to hold back a chuckle, I give him my hand and shake his. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming out here to escort me back to Atlanta.”

  “It’s my job, Miss . . . uh, I’m not quite sure what to call you.” Reggie’s cheeks turn bright pink.

  “Madigan is fine.”

  “Alright, well, let’s get going then. It’s better not to waste any time.” He starts off toward a door, turning back to look at me. “This is the part where you come with me and we get out of here. Christian hasn’t told me much but I know you’re in deep shit. The longer we’re here, the more problems we might have.”

  I open my mouth to say something smart-assed, but can’t when I notice the way his face shifts into worry. “Fuck, it’s too late. Your problems followed us here. C’mon!” Reggie grabs my arm and tugs me over to the door with him, opening it. He holds onto my arm tightly as we run toward the jet, stairs already down and waiting. I get onto the stairwell and see him standing behind me, gun drawn in the direction of the airport. He follows me, keeping his gun trained in the direction of our company.

  A stewardess is on board, who closes the door just as I hear Reggie talking to the pilot. “We need to get going. Now!” He slides his gun into a holster under his jacket and takes a seat, pointing to the one across from him. “Sit down and tell me what the fuck you’ve gotten us into.” His tone of voice tells me Reggie is anything but a business associate of my brother. No, he’s something more important.

  I take in a deep breath, thankful of the fact Christian didn’t send an imbecile. Instead, he sent me some sort of bodyguard. The only thing I’m left wondering now is why my brother has a man like this at his disposal.

  5

  “If you can hear a voice within you say, “you cannot paint”, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.”

  ~ Vincent Van Gogh

  Reggie

  I want to ask this woman if she’s deaf or dumb, but I think that might take it a little too far. You’d think she’d be quick to answer my question considering the bastards that came out the doors with their guns raised. They looked like they were contemplating shooting up at us. It wouldn’t have done them any good and I think they knew that.

  I turn my head from looking out the window and stare her down, “Did you not hear me? I want you to tell me what shit you’re in.”

  Madigan Steele, in all of her . . . shit, I don’t even know what to call it. This woman looks like she’s won America’s Next Top Model. She has light alabaster skin with sea-green eyes. Her copper-red hair flows down in long, wavy curls and when I look at her body, fuck . . . I want to re-adjust myself. She’s every man’s wet dream, with a shit ton of baggage from the looks of it.

  “Are you even listening to me?” she snarls out, raising a brow. If I had any doubts about her paternity, I’m immediately proven wrong. Madigan is definitely no pushover. All of the Steeles share one common trait —they don’t tolerate any bullshit.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I say, obviously, I must’ve missed something while I was ogling her. Shit, I need to knock that out.

  Madigan huffs out a heavy breath, rolling her eyes. “Put your listening ears on, alright? I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not my overlord. I don’t have to tell you anything. The only person I owe an explanation to is Christian.”

  I clench my hand into a fist, trying to hold my frustration back and be a gentleman to this woman. Although, she’s making it incredibly hard. “That’s where you’re wrong. You see, I’m the one Christian sent to make sure your ass doesn’t get capped. So, I’d appreciate a little transparency when it comes to your friends back there.”

  She shakes her head back and forth slowly, almost like she’s fighting with herself on whether or not she’s going to tell me a damn thing.

  “I’ll keep it simple for you. I’m great at my job. So great that I’ve never lost a client. The only problem here, Mads, is that I can only do my job if you tell me what in the actual fuck is going on. Keeping secrets doesn’t work in this line of business. You need to tell me every damn skeleton you have in your closet, plus the ones you’ve already buried in the backyard. Nothing is off-limits.” I breathe in a little easier and hope she understands where I’m coming from. I’m not trying to be a dick, but I have a job to do. If she’s making my job difficult, I can be sure to return the favor and make her life a living hell.

  “Look, I get that Christian sent you to take me to Atlanta, but he didn’t tell me I’d have to unleash everything.”

  “Of course he wouldn’t. He always leaves out the important shit,” I grumble. When I agreed to help him, I at least thought he’d try to make it a little easier. “Look, I’m only asking because I need to know about whatever mess is headed our way. Obviously, you’re no innocent. Now, will you just tell me what is going on?”

  Madigan looks down to her hands as she starts to speak, but stops when the stewardess comes down the aisle. “Is there anything I can get either of you now that we’re at the correct elevation? Oh, and you can take your seat belt off, honey.”

  Madigan is quick to unbuckle her seatbelt and pull a leg under her knee, “I’d love an orange juice if you have one, and a cinnamon roll.”

  The stewardess glances over to me, and all I can think about is how this chick went from an OJ to a cinnamon roll. “And what about you, Mr. Reggie?”

  “I’m fine, Alison, but thank you for the offer.”

  Alison goes down the aisle and goes to get Madigan what she wants, leaving her and I to speak amongst ourselves.

  “Can we just go with the short and sweet version?” Madigan says.

  “That’ll be fine.” Anything is better than nothing. I fuck up and let my southern Louisiana accent slip out, causing her to let a smile slip through.

  “I screwed up and got close to the wrong people. I thought that . . . they weren’t as bad as they were. I ignored every warning that was sent my way and before I knew it, I was sucked in too deep to get out.”

  “Until today,” I speak up. I search her eyes and see that she’s telling me the truth. I might not have the details yet but there’s something genuine about this girl under her tough shell. Alison is back, and hands Madigan her cinnamon roll and orange juice, slowly disappearing back down at the end of the plane.

  She offers me a half-smile, “Yeah, until today. I got into a relationship with a man who played me like a game. He bought me nice things, told me I was pretty, and I was head over heels in love with him. I fucking believed him too. I don’t know what’s more pathetic, the fact I believed him or that I stayed.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, needing her to elaborate on the latter part of what she said.

  She takes her hand and runs it through her long, wavy hair, meeting her eyes with my own. “I was in a relationship with a man that thought it was okay to hit me.” Madigan pulls her shirt up and I see a bruise across her ribs.

  “He kicked you,” I state, hearing her story far too many times to count from others just like her.

  “Yes.” The way she says it convinces me she’s filled with regret, not wanting to be in that situation. I can’t help but think at least she got out. Thank goodness she has brothers like the Steeles, who will move mountains to make sure she’s protected.

  Madigan’s drink is brought out to her and she slowly sips at it over the course of a few minutes. Silence fills the airplane as an eerie feeling washes over my whole body. Unable to keep quiet, I ask the one question that’s pressing at my mind. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Lots of things. There’s plenty of time for the nitty-gritty, though.”

  The way she looks out the window makes me believe I haven’t even begun to hit the tip of the iceberg. I came into this hating the assignment, thinking that I’m nothing but a glorified babysitter for a spoiled-rotten woman, but I was wrong.

  I
may have only known her for twenty minutes, but I can tell there’s more underneath the surface. It’s my job to find out what it is and protect her in the process.

  I give her a stern look as I promise something I never have. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve never lost a client and I’m sure as hell not going to now. I promise, I’ll get you out of this.”

  There’s an unspoken code in my line of work.

  Promises— we’re never supposed to make them.

  6

  You have no cause for anything, but gratitude and joy

  ~Buddha

  Madigan

  I don’t know why I told this Reggie guy a damn thing. I’m sure I didn’t ‘have’ to do anything, but I know Christian and he’d only send the best. If Reggie is going to be protecting me, giving him small slivers of my life can’t hurt. If things work out, I might just open up even more to him but I hope he isn’t holding his breath. It’d be a shame for a man looking as scrumptious as he does to die.

  The plane landed ten minutes ago and I was instructed to stay on board until the car arrived. From what I can tell, we’re at another private airport. “Will the car be here soon?” I ask Reggie, who’s standing at the door. The stairs were put down right after we landed and I hate it because I can feel the awful humidity seeping in. It would’ve been so much nicer if he kept the door closed and the air conditioning pumping through this thing.

  “It’s rolling up now,” Reggie says, waving his hand over for me to follow him.

  I scan my eyes over his body, not able to figure out why a man would choose to wear a full suit in this weather. Rising from my seat, I walk up to where he is and follow him down the stairs out to the car on the pavement. My door is already wide open for me as Reggie turns his head back in my direction. “Scoot to the other seat, behind the driver’s side.”

  “Sure thing,” I mutter out, stepping into the vehicle.

  Everything passes by in the blink of an eye as I’m being chauffeured throughout Atlanta. Myself, Reggie, and our driver are all silent during the trip. I want answers, to know where I’m going, what I’ll be doing, to know anything really, but I refrain from asking. Instead, I need to focus on breathing and accept the fact I’ve made a series of decisions that will change my life forever. Every fiber of my being feels nothing but anxiety at this moment, but I have to push through. If I need to be anything right now— it’s strong.

  “You were sassy as shit on the plane, and now you’re being quiet?” Reggie cocks his head to the side and snickers at me.

  “I have a lot to think about. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “Don’t you mean worry?” he counters back, causing me to re-think what I’m doing. There’s something about him that just digs deep under my skin and irritates me. It’s even worse that he’s right, but there’s no way I’m going to tell him that.

  Rolling my eyes, “I’m not worrying about a thing.”

  He raises both of his brows, “Oh, really? Shoot. If I were in your position, I would be. Logan and Jordan are really intimidating until you get to know them. Christian . . . well, you know him.”

  As if I wasn’t already hiding being nervous, Reggie’s words shoot me into overdrive. Now, all I can seem to do is worry. It doesn’t matter what I’m worried about, whether it’s minuscule or huge. I wonder if they’ll hate me the second they meet me, or will they judge me about something stupid like the color of my shirt. Regardless, I can’t worry. I need to stay sharp and accept what’s coming my way.

  I glance over to Reggie after looking out my window for a couple of minutes while deep in thought and see exactly what he’s doing. “You’re a dick. Why are you trying to get me all flustered?” I demand to know, raising my voice just a tad.

  “I wasn’t,” he objects.

  I’m not buying it. He wants me to get upset, but what’s his reasoning behind it?

  “You’re full of shit. I see what you did there. You want me to get flustered before meeting Logan and Jordan. Goodness,” I huff out, running a hand through my hair. In any normal situation, I would’ve walked out of the room, so considering we’re in a moving car, it’s not really working in my favor. Since I can’t walk out, I continue speaking. “What do you even know about my relationship with my brothers anyway or about me for that matter?”

  His face contorts from playful to straight-up annoyed. His brows furrow together and that playboy smile he has turns into a firm line. Just as he opens his mouth, he digs into his suit and pulls out his phone, bringing it to his ear.

  “Yes, I have her. You’ll be there at what time now? Ah, okay. Yes, we’re already on the way. We should be there within ten minutes or so.” Reggie keeps his eyes trained on me as he speaks, only I’m not sure why.

  I know I don’t look anything like my siblings based on the photos I’ve seen of them— maybe that’s why? Or is he staring for the same reason he’s fucking with me — because it’s a game to him?

  He slides the phone back into his pocket and picks back up from where he was interrupted. “I know that you met Christian by accident at the lake house when you were seventeen. You had skipped your last week of school and came down to where your father would bring you a couple of times a year. You were supposed to meet up with your Dad, but he canceled on you last minute for a business trip. You thought you could have a nice relaxing time until he came back but much to your dismay, it was raining for most of it. Christian was told not to go to the lake house because he was grounded but went anyway. You two met one another and that was the end of your father’s best-kept secret.”

  I’m taken aback with the details he knows. Things I’ve never told a soul before. How did he even know it was raining? “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d know any of that.”

  “I always make sure to do my research.”

  I didn’t take this man for the cocky type when I first met him, but obviously, I’m wrong.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Our driver makes a right-hand turn and we approach a gated community. Looking past the gates, I see multilevel townhomes. Each one of them has earthy tones with stone fronts, looking quite a bit different than New York houses do.

  I hear the unmistakable sound of a code being punched into the gate lock although I keep my gaze focused on outside the vehicle. I want to fully take in the community I’m soon to be part of. Honestly, while my mother and I have lived a luxurious life, we hardly ever went out of the city. Dad would bring me to the lake house, but I was never allowed to come to Atlanta. In layman’s terms, I was forbidden from ever coming here. I’m betting that had a tiny bit to do with me being his unwanted love child. He never confessed it, but I’m not stupid.

  “What’s the address Reggie, thirteen-hundred?”

  “Yeah, Carlos. You head up the street and it should be the last one at the end. Christian wanted some semblance of privacy for her. Plus, there’s an access road we can use to get out in a jiffy if shit gets a little crazy.”

  “Ah, I see. We’ll have to take the alternative route out since I’ll be Miss. Madigan’s personal driver.”

  Hearing that Christian is having someone drive me around makes me a bit more cautious. I also wonder why he feels the need to have someone driving me around when I’m fully capable of driving myself. “I doubt I’ll want to get out and about for a while. I really don’t think I need a driver,” I speak up, looking between Reggie and Carlos in the rear-view mirror.

  “It doesn’t matter what you want, Miss. Madigan. Mr. Steele has paid me to be your personal driver and I will do as he orders of me unless he changes his mind. I wouldn’t hold your breath, though. Once Mr. Steele’s mind is made up, it’s rare that he changes it.”

  Carlos drives a little way up and we go down a short driveway. He taps a button at the top of his SUV and the garage door opens, exposing a massive garage. Surprisingly, there’s plenty of room in here for another SUV. Usually, homes like this are cramped and tight.

  Carlos turns the engine off and opens his d
oor while Reggie and I follow his lead. I unbuckle my seatbelt and open my door, placing my feet on the step bar and stop. For some reason, all of my fears come running to the front of my mind. Every doubt and skeptical thought plagues me like a sudden fever.

  I hear footsteps coming my way and turn to meet Reggie’s gaze as he turns around the side of the car and faces me. “Either way, you’re gonna have to get out of the vehicle. Your brothers are going to be here in a couple of minutes.”

  “Do they know what they’re about to walk into?” The answer will either calm me or make me stroke out.

  Reggie’s face drops and it’s all the answer I need. He doesn’t have a clue.

  7

  “Everything is temporary; emotions, thoughts, people and scenery. Do not become attached, just flow with it.”

  ~ Unknown

  Madigan

  I managed to muster up some strength and walk from the garage into the house. Right when you come out of the garage, you end up behind the kitchen. If you look to the left, there’s a door that leads out onto a small porch and fenced in backyard, but if you go right, you see an open floor plan.

  The kitchen is small, but it’s very well done. Marble countertops make the room pop against matte black cabinets, but on the top, they’re white matte causing the contrast to be eye-catching. The chairs at the island are a bright canary yellow, making the room come alive. The living room is directly across from the kitchen and has the same hardwood floors spanning over the entire space. Looking down the hall, I can see they continue on and would place my bets on the fact they go upstairs as well.

  I can’t figure out why, but I look to Reggie, who’s leaning against the island after just grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit in the middle. Part of me sees some sort of safety in his presence. But I should feel that way, right? He is my personal security, after all. I still can’t shake the feeling on why I’m looking to him. What has he done to gain my trust in the last few hours that I’ve known him? The answer is nothing. He hasn’t done anything to prove himself to me.