Steele’s Redemption

Chapter 3

Emma

I woke to the smell of coffee and the distant clang of metal against metal.

For one terrifying second, I didn’t know where I was.

Then the ache in my ribs reminded me.

The kitchen. Derek finding my bag. The bedroom. Running barefoot into the street. The garden stone in my hand.

Jake.

I sat up slowly on the office couch, biting back a groan when my ribs protested. Morning light slipped through the cracked office door, spilling across rows of motorcycles and tool chests beyond it.

I was at Steele Custom Bikes.

And Derek wasn’t here.

That thought alone made it easier to breathe.

I found the bathroom Jake had shown me and stopped in front of the mirror. My cheek was swollen and bruised, my lip split, and my eyes looked older than twenty-three. There were other things I refused to look at too closely. Other reminders of last night I wasn’t ready to name.

Not yet.

I splashed water on my face, smoothed my hair with my fingers, and stared at my reflection.

“You got out,” I whispered.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

When I stepped back into the office, Jake was standing near the desk holding two paper cups.

“Coffee,” he said. “Didn’t know how you take it.”

“However it comes.”

I accepted the cup, wrapping both hands around the warmth.

His eyes moved over my face, assessing without staring. “How are the ribs?”

“Sore.”

“I know a clinic. Doctor there is discreet and won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer. I’d feel better if somebody checked those ribs, but I’m not going to drag you there.”

I almost smiled at that.

Derek would never have bothered asking.

“I don’t have insurance,” I said. “Or money, really.”

“I’ll cover it. You can pay me back someday if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.”

“Figured.”

Something about that almost made me laugh, which felt wrong after everything that had happened.

Then I realized something.

He’d given me a place to sleep, cleaned the blood from my lip, stayed at his desk all night—and he still didn’t know who I was.

“I’m Emma,” I said.

He looked at me.

“Emma.”

“Jake.”

“I know. You told me last night.”

“Right.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Wasn’t exactly a normal introduction.”

“No.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then Jake nodded toward my coffee. “So, Emma. Clinic?”

The fact that he asked again instead of assuming settled something inside me.

“Okay.”

⸻

The break room smelled like burnt coffee and motor oil. Jake put a box of donuts on the table, then dug through a cabinet and added a granola bar like he suddenly worried donuts weren’t responsible enough.

“Not exactly a balanced breakfast.”

“It’s food.”

I picked a glazed donut and took a bite.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten without wondering if Derek was watching my plate, deciding whether I’d taken too much.

Jake leaned against the counter while I ate.

“You said you don’t have anywhere to go.”

“I don’t.”

“You can stay here for now. Couch isn’t much, but nobody knows you’re here. We can figure something better out later.”

“I don’t want charity.”

“Didn’t say anything about charity.”

“I need a job.”

His eyebrows rose.

“I can work. Filing, phones, bookkeeping. Whatever you need.”

“You good with numbers?”

“I managed a household budget for four years while being told I couldn’t understand money. I think I can handle invoices.”

That earned an actual smile.

“Fair enough. Fifteen an hour. Cash for now until we figure out something more official.”

I stared at him. “You’re serious?”

“I’ve got paperwork nobody around here wants to touch. If you can make sense of it, you’re doing me a favor.”

For the first time since I’d run, I felt something other than fear.

A foothold.

“I’ll do it.”

“Clinic first.”

“Bossy.”

His eyebrows went up again.

The word had slipped out before I could stop it.

Then Jake laughed.

It was quiet, but real.

And somehow, I smiled too.

⸻

The clinic was small, tucked above a laundromat. Jake waited outside the exam room while a doctor checked my face and ribs.

She was brisk but kind, explaining everything before she touched me.

“Nothing feels displaced,” she said after examining my side. “You’ve got significant bruising. Possibly a small rib fracture, but treatment would be the same—rest, ice, pain management. No heavy lifting.”

She paused.

“Anything else you want me to examine?”

My entire body went rigid.

She noticed.

“I said want,” she added gently. “You can say no.”

Last night flashed through my mind.

Derek’s voice.

You’re my wife.

“No.”

She didn’t ask why.

“Then we’re done.”

Relief nearly knocked the air from my lungs.

When I came into the waiting room, Jake stood.

“Well?”

“Bruised. Maybe a cracked rib. Nothing serious enough to do anything except complain about.”

“Doctor say you can work?”

“Light duty.”

“Then light duty it is.”

He didn’t ask what else she’d examined.

Or hadn’t.

I was beginning to understand that Jake knew how to leave closed doors closed.

⸻

Back at the shop, a woman with dark hair and tattoos climbing both arms walked through the front door wearing a Steele Riders vest.

She took one look at me.

“Heard we got a new hire.”

“Emma, Raven,” Jake said. “Raven runs the front desk and keeps the rest of us from accidentally setting the building on fire.”

Raven poured herself coffee. “That’s happened once.”

“Twice.”

“The second one barely counts.”

Despite myself, I laughed.

Raven looked pleased. “Good. She has a sense of humor. We can keep her.”

Jake shook his head. “Show her the filing system. Light duty.”

“Filing system?” Raven snorted. “That’s generous.”

Jake headed toward the shop floor, and Raven waited until he was out of earshot before looking at me.

“He doesn’t bring people in here often.”

“I was bleeding behind a hedge.”

“That’ll do it.”

I couldn’t tell whether she was joking.

Then she smiled.

“Come on, Emma. Let’s see if you can save us from three years of paperwork.”

I followed her onto the shop floor.

Machines hummed. Men laughed somewhere near the open bay. Tools clattered against metal.

It was loud and unfamiliar and nothing like the house I’d left behind.

Yesterday morning, I’d been waiting for Derek to leave so I could run.

This morning, I had a job.

A couch to sleep on.

People who knew my name.

I didn’t know what tomorrow looked like yet.

But for the first time in years, I wanted to find out.