Chapter 23 Slade
Slade
There’s a low-key buzzing in my head. It’s not the warning roar—the one that sounds like a fighter jet’s engines flaring to life, right before the screams of the Numbers rise up to overwhelm me—but it’s there since I left the shop with Bane.
We had left my brothers, Badger, and Ash behind, and Bane guided me back to the clubhouse under the hateful stares of Beatrice and her bitch-bunny posse. They kept their traps shut even when I purposefully moved just a bit closer to Bane to piss them off and gave them the finger.
Bane was silent; the only thing he said before he shut my door was for me to shower, and then we’d make supper together.
I’ve finished scrubbing off the grease and grime that always comes with mechanic work and am picking at the remnants still under my fingernails while I look out the window. It had been bright and sunny today, but now the wind whips as dark storm clouds roll in over the bay.
They feel ominous. Foreboding. A warning of some unseen, dark future.
I’d heed their warning if only some stubborn, overbearing asshats would let me leave.
I turn to look at my burner phone lying on the bedside table. The idea of sending a message to my friends, asking them to help get me out of here, has been on my mind all day. But I know they’d do something stupid like get their fathers involved.
Granger and Camber’s father is Andrew Glass, head of the FBI, and Axel and Sam’s is Gideon Rourke, the Cybersecurity Division Chief for the NSA.
Yeah, definitely two men and organizations that the Havoc Guardians do not want finding out they’re holding me here against my will.
Or realizing that their children’s close friend—the one they believed came from old money from England, thanks to Sam’s hacking abilities—actually grew up as part of the MC.
Obviously, Andrew and Gideon would also both have strokes if they realized what their darling kids got up to in their spare time. Stealing cars, which they had been doing before I met them.
“Slade.”
I jump at the low baritone voice.
Bane fills the doorway—I hadn’t heard him knock or open the door. His dark brows pull together. “You okay?”
I nod, trying to push down the flash of lust that just the sound of his voice brought, and which the sight of him is intensifying.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” My voice is hoarse, and I try again. “I’m fine.”
He studies me more intently. “You want to eat in here?”
Tiny, close quarters with Bane. With a bed that I’ve masturbated on with thoughts of him?
Hell no.
“I’m fine.”
His jaw ticks, telling me he knows I’m lying but doesn’t push me. “Come on, baby.”
My insides quiver, just like they do every time he calls me baby in his deep, sexy voice. I need him to stop. Because every time I react to him calling me that, it’s a more intense reaction than the last.
So I call him what I overheard the bunnies say he hates. “Fuck you, daddy.”
It is a mistake. A huge mistake.
Our eyes lock. Those words said together…I might as well have begged with the words, Fuck me, daddy.
His nostrils flare as he takes a step toward me. I take a step toward him with some inexplicable gravitational pull.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here, Bane.”
Jez’s words shatter the spell I’m under, and I stumble back.
“What are you doing here, Jez?” Bane’s tone is lethal, but he doesn’t look away from me.
Jez eyes dart between Bane and me. “Ah… It’s after six, so I’m here to be with Slade.”
Bane’s head snaps to Jez. “You’re not with Slade. Your job—that you’re to do in my absence—is to protect her.”
Jez’s shocked mouth opens and closes, and he takes a step back. I can’t blame the guy because I’m all kinds of confused at the unmistakable possessiveness of Bane’s words and the malicious anger vibrating off him.
“As you can see, I’m here.” Bane continues glaring at him. “So fuck off.”
Jez swallows and nods. Then pales as Bane turns his big body to face him, his hands opening and closing into fists.
“You’re supposed to be working at Vixen’s tonight.” Bane’s voice is quiet, but the lethal threat within it has jumped up another notch.
Jez’s throat works as he swallows again. “I…I traded my shift.”
It’s like Bane grows before my eyes. “Why?”
Holy shit. Holy motherfucking batshit.
There’s a throbbing pulse between my legs.
Jez’s face pales even further. When he looks at me, Bane shifts sideways to block me from his sight. “Bane,” his voice trembles, “tonight is usually a quieter night at Vixen’s, and the tips are shit. I don’t know…I just wanted to chill and relax.”
“With Slade?” There’s ice in those words.
“Not…not like that.”
“It better not be,” Bane growls.
My pussy can’t take more of this. I have to get out of here. “Can you not with the caveman display, Bane?” I push past them and leave the bedroom.
Only to find myself with my back against the wall.
“You’re not going without me.”
Bane’s hand presses gently on my sternum, and I can’t move. Both because of the shock of him touching me, but also because of the way his hand is placed. One of my scars is close to the heel of his palm, and another is by his fingertips. If I move, he’ll feel them.
All thirteen of my slash marks burn, reminding me of their presence and how I got them. How I earned them.
It’s your punishment, Slade. Your penance because—
“Stop,” I choke out, trying to stop Antwane’s voice in my head from dragging me to hell. But his control over me swiftly dies once Bane looks at me.
“Jez, get the fuck out of here,” Bane orders him while he looks at me with increasing worry. Then he cups my face. “Stay with me, Slade. Focus on me.”
A heavy breath shudders out of me.
His thumbs caress my cheeks as he continues to cup my face, staring down at me. “That’s it, keep focusing on me. Good girl; my fierce, strong girl.”
My heart is pounding so fast and hard, I can hear it.
His hands shift. One wraps around the nape of my neck, and the other brushes my hair over my forehead. My hand lifts to his chest; my intent is to push him away, but when I touch him—all broad, thick, solid, and strong under my hand—my hand stays.
It’s not until he looks down at my hand resting on his chest, wearing my wedding band, that the spell is broken.
He steps back like he’s been scalded.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’m not actually married—that the wedding ring was just part of a cover to convince my brothers I was living my best life so they wouldn’t worry.
Granger would only publicly announce our fake marriage and remove the layers of failsafes protecting the fake license from being discovered if absolutely needed.
It was our backup plan, a last-ditch move to protect me if the Vanderalls ever found me, because it would force Andrew Glass to protect me.
But I swallow back my confession. I need to keep this layer of distance between us.
Nothing good would come from having sex with Bane. If we crossed that line and he found out that he’d be my first besides a sex toy, he’d go even more caveman on me.
But more than that, sex means lust, which means feeling things. Plus, sex means I have to remove clothing, even if it’s just to pull down my pants. Even if it was in the dark, Bane would still feel the scars on my body.
Besides, Bane is a biker; he lives and breathes the pussy-on-tap here. Even if he’s keeping his promise that he wouldn’t sleep with any other woman while he was trying to help me—with whatever the hell he thought he could help me with—I couldn’t forget my purpose here.
Escape so I can keep the Havoc Guardians safe and live the rest of my days looking over my shoulder until the Vanderalls found me for my final punishment and penance. And I need to be alone when I take my last breath.