Chapter 18 Bane
Bane
As soon as Slade had started to spiral away from me mentally, Army notified her brothers and Ash. They all rushed to the gym, along with Digits and Pix.
I ignored them as they barged in; my only focus was Slade as she screamed and thrashed like she was fighting a demon that had risen from the bowels of hell to come and claim her soul.
She clawed to get away from me, her movements jerky and chaotic, not the confident maneuvers she had just used when sparring with me. No, these movements were panicked, filled with terror and pain, like she was fighting for her life.
Then hate and rage filled her beautiful face, and I actually worried for my life as she attacked me.
I knew she wasn’t attacking me; she was attacking the predator who had taken her.
And she confirmed my suspicions that she had killed the motherfucker when she screamed in a hoarse, ragged voice, ‘Die, you bastard!’
Then Slade suddenly whispers my name, and my chest damn near implodes like all the air has been sucked out of me.
She said my name. And the complete and utter pain in that one word cracks my soul wide open.
“Bane,” she chokes out, louder this time.
“Come back to me, baby.” I wrap my arms around her tightly as the fight leaves her body, and she shakes violently. “You can do it, Slade.”
“She’s responding to you,” Army says. “Keep contact with her to keep her grounded, Bane.”
Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her face is twisted in pain. I hold her tighter against my body as more of the fight drains out of her, and she continues to shake. Her face tilts up to mine, and I cup it gently.
I’ll never be able to explain it or put it into words, but I feel it when she returns from her internal battlefield.
Then her lashes flutter, and it takes a few tries, but she finally opens her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes.
Eyes that not that long ago, when we had been sparring and her emotions had returned without her spiraling into hell, had been full of life, light, and fire.
But now, as that numbness returns, the green is dimmed.
“Don’t,” I rasp, staring down at her, feeling frantic.
“I have to.”
My hands tighten on her face. “You’re safe, Slade. Feel. Feel with me. I’ll help you. You can control it. You can have both.”
“I can’t.” Her voice has returned to the emotionless tone that I hate so fucking much.
I know that if the choice is between this state or the one where she just disappeared to be ravaged someplace where I couldn’t reach her or protect her, then I’ll accept this one, obviously. However, I know she can feel with me—I had witnessed it; I had felt the life return to her.
But I also know I can’t push her, and I have to accept this for now.
But I will help her battle her demons. I’m the only one she’s felt anything with, and I’ll be damned if I walk away from this small, tortured, but fierce woman.
I know I can never have her the way I crave, but none of that matters; I’ll still stand by her side to help her overcome this.
“I’ll help you then,” I promise. “Together, you and me. We can do it.”
The clarity has returned to her gaze.
Then her body lurches in my arms, and a fear unlike anything I’ve ever felt before fists around my heart, because I think she’s going to spiral away from me again. But then she twists in my arms and projectile vomits all over the mats.
It splats loudly. And I start to laugh.
It’s an involuntary reaction to breaking the tension, and I hold her close, burying my face into the crook of her neck. But then I catch myself, because it’s inappropriate behavior when she isn’t mine but someone else’s wife.
“You okay?” I ask her, and she nods, staring up at me. “Feel like you can stand on your own?”
“Yes.” Her voice is quiet.
“Slade?” Sten’s voice is shaky, his blue eyes wide with pain as he stares at his sister.
I release her when she pulls away from me and faces her brothers and Ash. They stand in a half-circle, looking like they want to crowd closer to her but don’t dare. She tugs her long sleeves down so they’re low on her hands.
When she glances at me over her shoulder, I swear there’s a flash of panic that crosses her face, but I blink and it’s gone before she turns away.
“I’d like to go to my room.”
Ash’s troubled eyes dart to me before going back to Slade.
“Slade, can we talk?” Breaker tries.
She shakes her head. “I’m okay now. It’s over.”
“How can you say—” Tyr’s words of disbelief are cut off when Army places a hand on his shoulder.
“You need to give Slade some space right now,” Army advises. “And allow her to decide if she talks about it.”
“We need to get Trinity here to check Slade over,” Ash says.
Slade’s head snaps to him. “No.” When he looks about to protest, she almost snarls, “No one is checking me over.”
Army shakes his head, telling Ash not to push it for now.
“Great shot, girl,” Pix says to Slade as she sidesteps the vomit. “I can take you to your room.”
“We can,” Breaker says, motioning between him, Tyr, and Sten.
Pix nods. “But I’ll stay with Slade for a bit if she’d like.” Then she winks. “Girl time and all that fun shit. Sound good, Slade?”
Slade walks to the door with her brothers close behind. She turns back to look at me. “Sorry to leave you with the mess. At least I didn’t puke on you.”
I chuckle. “It’s the small things in life that matter, right?”
Her lips twitch, then she walks out.
Pix pauses before she leaves. “I’ll stay with her and watch for signs of shock.”
I nod in thanks, and she walks out.
Ash paces like a wild animal.
Digits pulls out his cell. “I’ll get some Prospects in here to clean.”
I shove my hand through my sweaty hair. I wasn’t expecting to spar so vigorously with Slade, and my shirt is stuck to my torso and my jeans stick to my legs.
“Come and sit, Bane and Ash,” Army orders, pointing at the weight benches.
I go over and sit with a solid thud, like my body is so weary that I can hardly stand for a second more. It takes a bit more time for Ash to comply, but he finally does and rests his forearms on his thighs.
Army rakes his fingers through his hair, regarding the two of us. “I think Slade has government training.”
“That’s what you want to talk about?” Ash demands and points at the door. “After what just happened with Slade?”
“There’s not much we can do on that front right now.” Army’s training has drilled calm reactions and pragmatic approaches to high-pressure, life-or-death situations. It may feel cold, but I know he’s right.
“Why do you think Slade has government training?” Digits asks Army.
“The way she sparred with Bane tonight was like the FBI’s defensive tactics training.”
Ash sits straighter. “That training is a mix of Krav Maga, Jiu-Jitsu, boxing, and other kinds of martial arts. None of that explicitly screams FBI.”
“True,” Army agrees. “But you add in some of the other pieces, like the straight arm bar takedown she used on Bane when he first walked into the gym, the way she fought in close-quarters, or the way she knew exactly how to handle the Sig Sauer P365—which is a piece federal agents use,” he stresses.
“It all starts to paint a possible picture.”
“No way.” Ash jumps to his feet. “Slade was born and raised to mistrust law enforcement, just like we all were.”
“Yet, I served for years as a Marine.” Army cocks a brow at him.
Then he continues calmly, “I’m not saying she’s FBI; I’m saying she’s had government-level training.
It could be another government agency, or maybe none, and it was just someone who’s well-versed in the defensive tactic training who trained Slade. ”
“I’ll hack into the federal databases and see what I can find,” Digits says.
“Be careful. Last time you almost had the DHS looking our way,” I growl.
“I easily redirected their attention elsewhere.” Digits rolls his eyes. “And I’ve since made improvements. The hack won’t be easy to do and will take time, but it will go unnoticed.”
“We could ask Massimo to inquire with Andrew Glass.” Army looks between Ash and me, but we both shake our heads.
“That will draw too much attention to Slade,” Ash says.
“We need to keep her presence off the radar as much as possible,” I add.
“Hack the Feds database then, Digits,” Ash orders. “Just make sure it can’t be traced.”
Instead of a snarky comeback, like what would be characteristic of Digits, he presses his lips together.
“What is it?” I demand.
Digits glances at me, then almost reluctantly says, “Before you and Slade came down to the gym, she made a phone call.”
“To who?” I’m up and off the bench, rigid. “Why the hell are you just telling us now?”
He gives an incredulous look and snaps, “These things take time to dive into.”
I take a threatening step toward him.
“You’re such a dick,” he mutters but stands his ground.
Digits can handle himself—he’s deadly just like the rest of us, even if he lives and breathes behind his computers.
Even though I likely look like a wild, sweaty beast about to attack and pummel his ass, he looks at me evenly.
“She left a voicemail to someone; the cloned phone program didn’t allow me to hear what was said, I just know she made a call.
I need to hack in so we can listen to the voicemail. ”
Army comes over to me. “We’ve put a lot of additional things on Digits’ plate. These things take time.”
The fight deflates in me, and I incline my head at Digits in apology.
“Who was the voicemail to?” Ash asks.
“Some guy named Matt Knight.” Digits pushes up his glasses with one hand and lifts the other hand to stop us from demanding who the hell that is.
“And before either of you start, no, I don’t know who he is yet, but right before the shitshow started in here, I started a digging program on him. I should have everything by morning.”
Ash nods and turns to Army. “And Slade… Do you think she needs professional help?”
Army rocks back on his heels. “Damn straight. But you saw her reaction when we were going to get someone to come and check her out.” He looks at me. “Right now, I think Bane is our best bet.”
Ash levels me with a hard look—a warning, fatherly look. “Bane isn’t a psychiatrist.”
“No, but for whatever reason, Slade responds to him,” Army says calmly. “Whatever demons are torturing Slade on the inside, Bane helped her fight them.”
Ash jerks a nod but glares at me. “She’s not just some pussy.”
I fist my hands and take an involuntary step toward Ash. We’ve clashed before over the years, more so when we were hot-headed, thought-our-balls-where-bigger-than-they-were kids, but I’ve always had his back, just like he has had mine. This time, though, is the first I’d gladly smash his face.
“I’m not trying to fuck Slade,” I snarl.
“You’ve sworn off the Club Pussy.” He cocks a brow. “You thought I wouldn’t hear the rumors, brother?”
My fists unclench, and I huff. “Slade has a complicated history with her dad. He constantly cheated on her mom with the Bunnies. If I want her to trust me, that was the deal.”
“She asked you to do that, then?” Ash challenges.
“No,” I admit. “I could just sense it was a deal-breaker.”
Ash lets it go, regardless if my words sound as lame to his ears as they do mine.
“Go shower.” He jerks his chin to the door. “You smell like an ape’s ass,” he adds with a crooked smile.
Shaking my head, I stalk toward the door, leaving them to coordinate the Prospects for cleaning Slade’s vomit off the mats, like it was the poison her body rejected after she had exorcised the demons from within.
Only Slade hadn’t exorcised those demons; they still lived within her, eating and carving away at her soul.
And I’ve never felt an urgency like this before; like I’m racing against some invisible clock that’s steadily ticking down to her end.