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  STEELE

  DARING

  The Kane Brothers

  By

  KELLY GENDRON

  STEELE

  Daring the Kane Brothers

  Published by Kelly Gendron

  Copyright © 2018 Kelly Gendron

  All rights reserved

  Edited by J Sims - Editing4Indies

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  PROLOGUE

  I sit with my legs crossed under the kitchen table. My small hand barely covering the cell phone I’m holding against my ear. “Somethin’s wrong with Mommy,” I whisper.

  “Steele, where are you?” I hear Mommy call out. “Steele!”

  “Daddy, you gotta hurry and git here!” I lower my voice. “Please, Daddy, hurry.” I snap the phone shut, hoping my daddy gets the message in time.

  “Steele!”

  I peek out from under the table but don’t see her.

  “Steele!”

  On my hands and knees, I crawl from the safety of the banged-up four-legged fortress. “Here, Mommy.” I slide the phone on top of the table. “In da kitchen.”

  I pull my hand back from the cell just as she walks in the room with Stone on her hip, dressed only in a diaper. The one I put on him this morning when I got him out of his crib. Swollen red eyes flit around the room. Oh no, she’s been cryin’ again. Whenever she does that—walks back and forth, biting her nails, twisting her long black hair, and sayin’ bad words—when she does that, I know something bad’s gonna happen.

  “Come on!” She grabs my shirt and drags me toward the back door.

  I lock my feet to the ground. “Where’re we goin’?”

  “For a ride.” She gives me a tug, but I hold my footing.

  “I need my shoes.” I can’t leave. Need to wait for Daddy to come. I left him a couple of messages. He’s coming. I know it. He’ll save us. “Let me get my shoes⸻”

  “No,” she jerks me harder, and Stone’s tiny head bobs against her shoulder.

  “Teele!” His arms reach out for me, his little hands opening and closing, “Teele! Teele!”

  “Let me carry him!”

  “No!” She pushes the torn screen door open. “Shit! Keys!” She twirls around and heads back into the kitchen with Stone still crying in her arms. “Where’re my fucking keys!” She stumbles, falling against the wall. Luckily, not on the side where my little brother is.

  She spins back around, banging into the table as she scans the room for her keys. Stone’s body flops in her arms. She’s gonna drop him. If she drops him … I spot the keys on the counter. I race toward them. If I can get them. Hide them …

  “There they are!” A thin bruised arm shoots in front of me and bony fingers swipe the keys from my view. “Let’s go.” She gives me another hard nudge toward the door.

  I wish I was big like Daddy. She’s twice my size. I’ve tried to stop her before, but she always wins. Besides, I don’t want to upset her too much, not with my little brother in her arms.

  We get to the car. Stone’s screaming as she drops him in the front seat.

  “Mommy, what about the car seat?” I point at the back.

  “Git in.” She ignores me and picks up the garden hose from the corner of the garage. “And calm your brother down.” She drops the hose and nearly falls reaching for it again. “Git!” She waves.

  Doing as I’m told, I crawl in the car, pull Stone close to me, wrap my arm around him, and talk to him until he quiets. Mommy gets in the car, pulling the hose in with her through the window. She rolls the window up far enough to hold the hose in place, and then she starts the car. I look behind us, waiting for the garage door to open. When it doesn’t, I turn to her.

  Eyes half-closed, she rests her head against the seat, fanning her fingers through my hair. “I love you, baby. You know that, right?”

  I nod. Oh good, this is about the time she closes her eyes for a long time.

  “That’s right.” Her eyelids lower. “You, me, and Stone, we’re gonna leave this place. We’re gonna go somewhere your daddy can’t ever take you away from me.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  STEELE

  “Too tight?”

  I glance down at the white bandage wrapped around my arm. Looks good, nothing like when my little brother used to mend his wounded Power Ranger action figures with a few sheets of toilet paper and some masking tape. “No,” I glance up at the paramedic. “Feels fine.”

  “The burn is superficial, but you should follow up with your physician,” she says as she waves in her next victim.

  “Yeah, all right.” I flex my hand, the sting from the burn stretching down my arm. I nod at Chris, one of the cameramen with part of his eyebrow gone, no doubt, burned off from the blast. He takes my place and sits his ass on the bumper of the ambulance.

  Lights flash all around me, reminding me of the intro to one of my first movies, Criminal Accounts. I wander closer to the smoldering building, watching as the firefighters move in and out of the place. I turn to my right, and through the hazy mist of leftover smoke, a body moves toward me. With clenched fists and squared shoulders, the familiar figure yanks my attention.

  Dark eyes set deep in a pale face reveals within the light, and just as I have for the past twenty-eight years, I instantly sense my little brother’s distress.

  I raise my hands. “I’m okay!”

  Without saying a word, Stone grabs my arm and exams it. He twists and turns my body, inspecting that too. His fingers lightly touch my naked back.

  “It’s makeup for the scene,” I rush out as he spins me back around.

  Our eyes meet, and I grasp the fear he’s real good at hiding from everyone else. I see the little kid who used to crawl in bed with me whenever he had a nightmare, the boy who cried himself to sleep, and the kid who feared everything. That little boy wraps his arms around me. For no more than a second or two, he holds me, then the man he’s become pushes me away.

  Rushing a shaky hand through his overgrown dark hair, he scans the area. “What the fuck happened?”

  His eyes never make it back to mine.

  “Why are you here?”

  He stares at the building, inspecting it as he had me. “Was at Mom and Dad’s for Becca’s birthday party,” he finally says, eyes moving on to a few bystanders. “Timmy Jones from down the street dropped by.” His dark eyes flash by me. “Was on duty, said he heard on the scanner there was an explosion, knew you were scheduled to shoot here today, and wanted to tell Mom not to worry. He radioed the station, and they confirmed no casualties reported.”

  “Shit!” I run a hand down my uninjured arm. “Didn’t even think to call Ma. Sorry, man.”

  “Yeah.” Stone nods, the color coming back to his face. “We were just eating cake and shit. I guess it’s all over the news, and that’s why Timmy sto
pped by. Told Mom I’d come down and check things out, be sure your pretty ass was okay.”

  “I’m all right. Something went wrong when they blew up one of the model buildings. Luckily, the shrapnel only hit a few people. Nothing too serious.”

  “I’m gonna call Ma and have a look around,” he says, pulling his cell from his hoodie pocket.

  I rub a hand over my stubble-free chin. I scared him and Ma. Fuck, I can just imagine what they were thinking when Timmy showed up in his cop uniform at my little niece’s birthday party. Shit! Mom worries enough about me doing this job already. The last thing I need is to give her more ammo as to why I should quit.

  Stone wanders over toward the building, nodding as he talks in his cell. For a split second, I consider telling him to leave it to the firefighters and the cops, but not only is my little bro a rock star, he also deactivates bombs for a living. So, this shit’s right up his alley. Besides, he’ll have to see for himself that the explosion was nothing more than an accident before he’ll walk away.

  “You okay?” Kip says, grabbing my shoulder and glancing at the bandage on my arm.

  “Yeah.” I nod, watching the anxiety dissolve from his face. Found out early on that Academy Award winner Kip Nivarro doesn’t like it when his stunt double gets hurt. He takes it personal.

  “Trying to pull another TJ Banks?” He winks, squeezing my shoulder before letting go.

  “Wasn’t me. It was that asshole Ken Reynolds. He fucked up another explosion. I told ya, I don’t like working under that guy. He’s dangerous. Not sure why Jerry hired him. Reynolds was the stunt coordintor for Hard Curves. He was on the frontline of that TJ Banks debacle, and that guy was talented. I worked with him a couple of times. Banks was cautious but good. Damn shame the kid died so young because he had potential. Heard he’d just gotten married and had a kid on the way.” TJ Banks was the most recent fatal stunt accident. It happened a few years back, but we stunt folks never forget. That’s why I don’t do the whole relationship thing. No lady or kids waiting at home for my safe return.

  Hell, Ma’s enough to deal with.

  Kip’s eyebrow lifts. “You want Ken gone, he’s gone. Just say the word.”

  “No.” I grimace. The guy might be an assfuck, but I’m not looking to sabotage his job. Who’d be the assfuck then?

  Kip shakes his head. “Hey”—he laughs—“did you see Chris?”

  I nod, stifling back a chuckle myself. “Poor kid, he’s been trying to hook up with Jessica Gables and losing an eyebrow’s not gonna help the cause.”

  “No loss on his part, I’m sure. I hate when she’s working in makeup. She’s a bitch.”

  “Try telling him that.”

  “I did.” Kip snickers. “He gives me the creeps.”

  “Who? Chris?”

  “Yeah, he’s … ah”—Kip shakes his head—“I don’t know … weird like I could see him having pictures of Jessica hanging all over his bedroom walls and shit, jerking off to them while listening to ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic.’”

  “The Police, really?”

  “Mom’s a big fan.” He shrugs, trying to justify the excuse.

  “But Chris?” I raise an eyebrow, seeking the same kind of validation.

  “Hey, I’m just sayin’.” He grins.

  “Where do you come up with this shit?” I laugh. “Oh, wait, it must be from all those B title horror flicks back in the 2000s you starred in, or well, tried to.”

  “Fuck you.” Kip whacks me in the chest, and I laugh harder. “Listen.” He sobers, getting over the comment quick. “I’ll talk to Jerry and see what we can do about Ken. I don’t trust the guy, either. Too many fuckups. Hey”—he nudges me—“ain’t that your brother?”

  “Yeah,” I say, spotting Stone talking with one of the firefighters. Think we switched roles. I’m not crawling in bed with him at night or anything, but since the whole Army stint, he’s definitely the overprotectve one now. He’s been distant since the last intervention we threw down on him at Uncle Rowdey’s cabin. My other three brothers and me had to help him through another detox, and it got ugly. Whatever he did in Iraq really fucked his shit up.

  The past few times he’s been in town, he’s stayed with Token or Crash. He won’t stay with Nix on account he’s a got a five-year-old running around the house. But wherever he’s staying, it’s not at my place. He might be knocking on my door this week, though, considering the last time he stayed with Crash, they got into it at Ma’s during our little sister’s birthday party. And I know Token’s out. Token’s got himself a girl, so he ain’t wantin’ any company.

  “I’m gonna check in with Jerry and see how long this is going to set us back.” Kip nods a hello at Stone as he makes his way over to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow in Chicago?”

  “My flight leaves at eleven,” I say to Kip’s back as my eyes shift over to Stone. “Like I said, an accident, right?”

  Stone stops in front of me. “Appears that way. I’m gonna stop by tomorrow when the smoke clears just to take another look around.”

  I open my mouth, then snap it shut. Stone’s gonna do what he wants, and I can’t stop him. No one can. We got lucky when he finally agreed it was time to stop the drugs. “Where ya stayin’?”

  He shrugs. “Just came to town for Becca’s party. Not sure if I’m gonna stick around, but might have a couple of gigs in the works around here, so I might not have a choice. I’m waitin’ to hear back from Trigger.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to Chicago for the week. You can crash at my place if ya want. Someone’s gotta feed Goldilocks while I’m gone.”

  “You still got that damn goldfish?”

  “Hell, I don’t have to take her for walks, she don’t make any noise, and she don’t get separation anxiety. She’s the perfect pet.”

  He laughs. It’s one of the sacred sounds I like to hear. “All right, I’ll camp out there for a few days and take care of Goldilocks for ya, but first, I’m going to head back to Ma and Dad’s.”

  “Okay. I need to take a quick shower to make it to the airport by ten. So if you’re not at my place before then, Simon will let you in.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  STEELE

  “No.” I walk through the cracked cement halls of the abandoned apartment building in Near North Side, Chicago. “I’ll run through here and jump out that window. There’ll be a rope hanging down from a scaffold waiting for me.” I stick my head through the huge open window. Kip comes up beside me.

  “I’ll swing out and come back in through that window.” I point.

  “Trying to pull another TJ Banks?” Kip says, glancing down six stories to the vacant street below with a whistle.

  “No.” I laugh. “You act like us stunt guys are superheroes or something.”

  “Aren’t you, though?” He pulls back from the window.

  I chuckle, the sound of it resembling a “fuck you.” My eyes scan the room as it crowds with people setting up cameras and tending to lights. The pretty raven-haired woman standing against the door watching me doesn’t go unnoticed. They never do. My radar’s always on. California, Chicago, New York—while working on any site, I got no problem finding a woman to warm my bed. It’s the occupation. Most think Kip, the lead actor, would get all the action, but there’s another breed of women out there. One who’s not interested in fame but rather craves a bit of danger and excitement. And that’s something this guy can offer.

  “Why’d they want the shoot done here in Chicago? We could’ve pulled this shit off in LA?” I turn to Kip, keeping my eyes on the woman, a smile slipping across my mouth as she heads our way.

  “I don’t know.” Kip shrugs. “Hey”—he points at me—“don’t forget we have that meeting in a few with the insurance guy, and no shit this time, Steele. We do what we need to get this done. I want to be back in LA by the end of the week. And dude, put a shirt on.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, nodding as he walks away
.

  “It’s the iconic skyline, beautiful brownstones, suburban mansions, and gritty urban backdrops. That’s why Chicago,” the woman says. Her large, cupid looking blue eyes openly inspect my naked chest.

  “Yeah.” My eyes take their own thorough inspection, rolling down her tight white button-down blouse that shows just enough cleavage to tease the mind. “But we could’ve done the same stunt at any random abandoned apartment building in LA.”

  “You could have.” She walks over to the window and leans against it. The strong breeze barely disturbs her dark, perfectly coiled hair. “But you wouldn’t get this gorgeous background.” She casts a hand out.

  I stand next to her, turning my attention back to the river, bridge, and tall buildings. “No, I guess not.” I take a deep breath of the Chicago air mixed with whatever expensive designer perfume the pretty lady put on under that tight white shirt. In her attire and those heels, she’s most likely not working the cameras or lights. Could be a producer or director, but that’s not gonna stop me from hitting on her either. “You from here, Chicago?”

  “Yes, I am,” she responds, eyes fixed on the calm river ahead.

  “I’m from LA.”

  “Yes.” A small smile tugs on the corner of her lush red lips. “I know where you’re from, Mr. Kane.”

  “Well, maybe later tonight you can show me around your city, Miss…?”

  She laughs. It’s short, throaty, and sexy. “You have a better chance of jumping out of this window and catching that rope than you’ll ever have of going out on a date with me, Mr. Kane.”

  “You underestimate my abilities.”

  “No. I’m just confident in mine.”

  “About your ability not to go out with me?”

  “Exactly.” She smiles at the river, denying me another look into those bright blue eyes.

  “Oh, come on.” I tilt my head, scanning the unattainable perfection before me and daring her to look at me.

  “I’m sorry, and I apologize for my forthcoming honesty.” Her coveted eyes encased by long, thick lashes finally turn my way. “I wouldn’t waste my time on you. In my experience, guys like you are lucky to live past thirty.”