Chapter 25 Slade
Slade
The next few days held a pattern.
Bane would be waiting outside my bedroom when I exited, having sent Liam or Jez off to bed after he had made one of them guard my door throughout the night.
We’d make breakfast in the small kitchen—we were making all our meals there now—then go to the gym for a workout, followed by some sparring.
After that, he would often leave to attend to MC business, and I would work in the shop with Badger.
One of my brothers, if not all of them, would come and work alongside me.
Then I’d go shower, and Bane would be there waiting for us to make supper.
I’ve never been one for TV or reading, so it was always early to bed for me, which worked because I’ve turned into an early riser.
I had no idea what Bane did after I went to bed, but he had been there without fail, standing outside my bedroom each morning, looking alert and awake.
Today was a deviation from our ‘norm’ because shortly after we had entered the gym, and I started my training circuit while Bane hammered on the punching bag, he got a call and has to leave.
I didn’t bother asking what MC business was interrupting our time together, as it wasn’t my place to ask.
I wasn’t part of the Havoc Guardians, nor was I on the Council or Bane’s Old Lady, not that if I was, he’d tell me—club secrets were exactly that: club secrets.
“Fuck,” he mutters, tossing his hand wraps into his bag. “Jez isn’t answering his phone, and Liam—”
“Liam just went to bed, after you made him stand outside my bedroom door all night,” I remind him with exasperation and drop from the chin-up bar.
That was the other pattern that was developing; I was feeling emotions more and more when I was around Bane. They may not be intense yet, but they were frequent and were chaos free and happened without me starting to spiral and dissociate.
“When am I going to lose my shadows?”
If Bane wasn’t with me, it was Jez, Liam, one of my brothers, or even one of the Council members.
“Cutt hasn’t bothered me again, Bane. The shadow guard is ridiculous.”
He bends down and grabs his bag, then straightens up with a frown. “Doesn’t mean he won’t try.”
“You’ve seen me fight.”
He eyes me as I wipe the sweat from the side of my face with my sleeve. “Why don’t you wear the workout clothes I got you?” he changes the subject.
The clothes he bought aren’t skimpy or tight; but they’re shorts and short-sleeved shirts.
“You see enough skin around here. You don’t need to see mine.” I avoid lying outright.
His frown deepens. “It's respectable workout gear, Slade.”
“Sorry if I insulted your fashion sensibilities, Mr. Fashionista.” I can see he’s not going to drop it, so I give him something that might resemble a reasonable answer. “I’m always cold.”
He still doesn’t look like he’s going to accept my answer, but then I’m saved by his phone ringing again. He answers it, listens to whoever it is, then says, “I’m on my way.”
He texts something on his phone, then reads the quick response and looks at me. “Pix is coming to the gym.”
“Grand,” I snark.
“She’ll be a few minutes still.”
Anger buzzes within me. “Really, Bane?” I glare at him that he’s refusing to leave. “I’ll be fine for a few fucking minutes. And didn’t you just tell whoever called you that you were on your way?”
His frown dissolves into a grin that’s big and broad. “I like the fire and sass, baby.”
“Call me that again and find out how I’ll light your ass on fire.”
He chuckles and backs away with his hands raised. “Bring it…baby.”
I launch my water bottle at his head, which the big brute dodges with speed and agility that shouldn’t be possible for someone his size.
“Pix will be less than a minute. Be good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Then he’s out the door.
And with him goes my ability to feel and remain steady while I do.
The emotions don’t immediately disappear, but my ability to maintain that tenuous equilibrium of calm does. I pace the mats as I push everything down inside the locked metal box, and once everything is finally silent and settled within me, I hate that this is my reality.
I hate that Antwane, that vile, evil man, still has control over me from the grave. I can hear him taunting me from hell.
It will be over soon, Slade. Then I will come and give you your penance.
A cold hand grips my heart, and I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. That ominous foreboding feeling follows.
I need to get out of here, I remind myself. Not play happy reunited family with my brothers and the Havoc Guardians. Not play…whatever this is with Bane.
They’re all in danger because of me.
Pix will be here soon, and I might be able to convince her that the Council needs to reverse their decision. I won’t be able to tell her much of anything, not without spiraling, but I might be able to get out just enough to convince her to help me. I need to try.
The door opens, and I turn to blurt as much as I can out to Pix, hoping to God that I don’t spiral fully.
But it’s not Pix.
It’s Beatrice and her bitch-bunny posse. I still haven’t learned their names, nor do I care.
They form a line, blocking the door. Beatrice sneers at me. Two of her friends wear matching expressions, but the other two look uncertain.
“A bit early for you, isn’t it, Beatrice?” I direct my attention to her, ignoring the others.
Her eyes are filled with hate as they slide over me—my bare feet, long leggings, long-sleeve shirt, my lack of makeup, and sweaty, short hair. Her look stops on my small chest—I’ve never had a generous rack, nor have I ever cared.
“What the hell does Bane see in you?” she finally asks after picking me apart with her eyes. “You have the body of a twelve-year-old boy.”
I pick at my nails, having missed a bit of dirt from my changing out a car engine yesterday that Badger had brought in for me to tinker with.
“He must need a change from all you replica Barbies with your fake bolt-on tits.” I glance at her face that’s red and twisted with fury. “And your cumbrellas,” I add, loving to taunt her.
Beatrice was the worst kind of mean girl when we were younger—one who thrived on humiliating people in public. I had always stood up to her, and she viewed me as her arch-nemesis, which I was fine with, especially now that she was here, providing pussy-on-tap.
I’d never shame or belittle a sex worker.
However, the Club Pussy aren’t here because they’ve fallen on desperate times or are being forced; they’re all here of their own free will, happy to be willing holes for the men.
Happy to get things from the Brothers, such as Beatrice’s fake tits.
Happy to be a willing partner for men, like my father, to cheat.
She stamps her foot. “Bane will tire of you soon. Mark my words.”
“Are you mad because I took away your favorite big dick?” I tilt my head to the side, my tone and face expressionless, which fuels her anger that she isn’t getting a rise out of me.
I’m assuming Bane has a big dick. One, because of the bulge in his jeans if you looked—not that I was looking—and two, because that man oozes big dick energy.
Her pretty face twists, revealing the ugly viper that lives within her. “You little fucking—”
The one with light brown hair clamps her hand over Beatrice’s mouth. “We can’t disrespect her, Destiny.”
Oh yes, Bane’s warning.
“Tootle along.” I flick my fingers toward the door just as it opens, and Pix walks in.
Her eyes are hard and cold as they scan the Bunnies before she looks at me.
“Does he kiss you?” Beatrice demands, not realizing that anyone has entered the gym.
Her question surprises me, but I quickly realize her meaning. Bane doesn’t kiss them.
Jealousy rears its ugly, big head at the thought of him doing everything else with Beatrice and the other Bunnies, though, but I shove it down.
It’s stupid to feel that. Bane, would’ve been with all the Club Pussy at one time, even if his claim of being celibate right now is actually true.
More jealousy, along with betrayal, rises at the thought of him breaking his promise, but I steadfastly ignore it.
Bane isn’t mine. And I’m leaving the second I can figure out how to.
Pix chooses that moment to clear her throat, and Beatrice and her friends whirl around to her.
“I didn’t say anything disrespectful to her,” Beatrice splutters, immediately trying to save her ass.
Pix’s distaste for the Bunnies is clear as she stares them down, and they all wither under her brutal look.
“Well, the comment about me having the body of a twelve-year-old boy sorta stung,” I say, then shrug, looking at Pix and ignoring Beatrice baring her teeth at me. “But she’s not entirely wrong.”
The corner of Pix’s mouth twitches as she regards me. “I’ve always liked you, Slade.” Then to the Bunnies she says, “Fuck off, skanks.”
They scamper out the door, shrinking away as they pass by Pix to exit.
After they’re gone, Pix watches me as I take two bounding steps and jump up to grip the chin-up bar, resuming my workout.
“Don’t make this weird, Pix. Either do something other than watch me or abandon your babysitting role.”
She kicks off her boots and walks over to the punching bag that Bane had been pummeling before his phone call, and she snaps her leg in a vicious roundhouse kick. The slap on the leather echoes in the room, and the bag swings madly.
“Don’t turn your back on those bitches,” she warns.
I don’t respond to her until I’ve finished my pull-ups and drop down to the mat. “I’m not new around here.”
She hugs the bag to stop it from swinging. “The warning still stands.”
“I want to talk about the Council vote.”
“It’s final.” Her tone is closed off.
“Pix… You don’t know what you’re signing up for. I’m being hunted,” I finally admit. “The man I killed…his family is looking for me.” The warning roar is starting in my head, but I try to get the words out. To finally say why I need to leave. “They’re powerful, connected. His name…”
But I can’t say Antwane’s name out loud. And even trying to brings Number Fourteen’s tortured but dead vacant eyes, and that’s all I can see. Each of my scars burns white-hot just like they had when Antwane slashed my skin for my penance after each of the Numbers died.
My punishment for living when they had to die.
‘It will be over soon, Slade. Then I will come and give you your penance.’
Everything—the emotions, the screams, the memories—swells within me, demanding to be unleashed. Demanding that I pay for my sins.
Don’t feel. Shut the emotions off. Stop the screams.
But my mantra is useless words.
My control and strength to repress everything… It isn’t just shattered, it’s eviscerated.
I stumble back, reeling as I’m internally assaulted.
Emotions flood me, every horrifying memory flashes in rapid-fire, tortured screams rip apart my head, and I feel like my mind is being trapped in a steel cage, separating itself from my body and reality.
I thought I might be strong enough to get some of the details out, making Pix see she needs to get the Council to reconsider their decision.
But I was wrong.