Chapter 34 Bane
Bane
After Slade and I cleaned up in the kitchen, I took her to her bedroom instead of mine.
Even though it’s the last thing I wanted to do, I could tell she needed some space to process everything that had happened.
I know Slade will revert back to that repressed, numbed state once I leave her.
She’s been feeling for hours with me, staying present and not spiraling, but her defenses need periods of intermittent rest to recover and become stronger.
Just like training physically, Slade is training herself mentally and emotionally, and growth doesn’t just happen overnight.
It’s definitely crossing a line, but I had Digits plant a bug in Slade’s room, solely for the purpose so I’d know if she started to spiral when she’s in there alone.
Neither of us asked for Ash’s permission, and neither of us is going to tell him because I like my balls, thank you very much. Digits won’t listen to Slade, though; I trust him with my life, plus the amped-up, stressed-to-the-max tech genius has more than enough on his plate.
I insert the small earpiece in one ear so I can hear what Slade is doing, which is getting out of the shower, and I head to Army’s bedroom. He had texted that he was about to call Len to request her team’s help before he left for Hedon, our kink club, where he goes to fuck.
I knock before I enter his room, where he’s sitting on the side of his bed with his back to me.
His cut is tossed on the bed, and he’s wearing a black dress shirt with a tailored suit, he’s dressed for Hedon.
Most people know who Army is, but he still leaves his cut at home and dresses up when he goes there.
It’s like he’s leaving his identity here so he can freely fuck the filthy way he likes.
He’s leaner than Ash and me, but still broad across the shoulders. Shoulders that are rounded forward at the moment, with his head lowered as he holds a bottle of unopened GlenDonach scotch in his hands.
My brother never recovered from losing the love of his life, Leeva Malone.
She was the granddaughter of our previous VP, and the first time Army laid eyes on her when they were young, he was a goner.
But she was innocent and pure, and even though they were best friends growing up, he never let himself have her that way, feeling he wasn’t worthy of her.
But life has a cruel way of laughing in our face, because Leeva ended up with Guerilla, Army’s actual blood brother—and a bastard we all hated—and he ruined Leeva’s innocence in a far worse way than Army ever could have.
I know that bottle of scotch in his hands was meant to be for him and Leeva to enjoy together before everything went to shit and she disappeared.
“Digits continues to look for Leeva.”
Army’s spine stiffens, yet his shoulders still bow as if in defeat. “I’ve told him to stop. Many times. She’s better off wherever she is.”
“You don’t know that.”
He twists his head to look at me over his shoulder, with his dark brows pulled together. “Anywhere away from Guerilla and being his Old Lady is better, Bane. You know there’s no divorce in the MC.”
I walk further into his room. It’s done in dark tones of black and charcoal, and decorated with abstract art in slightly lighter hues. It’s classy for a biker’s bedroom. But it’s also cold and aloof, like it keeps you at bay, refusing to allow you to fully immerse yourself, much like Army.
“Guerilla is gone.” I continue when he grunts, “And even if he came back and so did Leeva, it’s not like Guerilla can force her to be with him; Ash and the rest of us Council would never allow it.”
Other MCs may, depending on their code, but for us, our women still had choice and power.
He rises, tall and lithe like a jungle cat, and faces me. “Why would I find Leeva to bring her back here?” His voice is rough, but the anguish cuts right into his soul. “Even if she has forgiven me for the part I played in her pain, I can never have her.”
Sadness slashes over his features as he fists the scotch bottle. “Leeva wears Guerilla’s tattoo, his mark, his brand. Even if she’s not with him, she’s untouchable. It’d go against our club law, and if anyone did, they’d be depatched and kicked out.
“But for me, as a Council member, I wouldn’t just have my patches taken away and kicked out.
I know too much. My punishment would include death.
You want to be the one to kill me, Bane?
Because you know Ash’s hands would be tied; Guerilla is still patched in as a Havoc Guardian and Leeva is his, even if she isn’t. ”
I blow out a heavy breath. To say his situation is complicated is a fucking understatement.
He tosses the bottle of scotch onto his bed, then pulls out his phone.
“Army.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “There’s nothing more to say on this subject, brother. Let’s call Len.”
I don’t push him further. One, because I know him, and two, because I’m a selfish prick when it comes to the safety of my woman.
My woman.
My cock jerks at the thought, and my chest tightens. I’ve fallen hard for Slade, and I inwardly shake my head, not quite understanding it but not fighting it, either.
He dials Len’s number and puts it on speakerphone.
“She gonna be okay with that?” I point at Army’s phone.
Even though the Council has had some involvement in the favors Len has requested of Army, we’ve had limited direct contact with her.
He shrugs. “She’ll get over it.”
The phone rings over the speaker, and I grit quietly, “We need her to agree to work with us. Don’t piss her off.”
He shoots me a ‘no shit’ look right before Len picks up.
“Lance Corporal Hayes Cartwright,” Len uses his former ranking and birth name.
“Lenna.” He smirks at her huff of annoyance at him calling her that.
I’m not sure if Len has an actual last name or if Lenna is even her name. I don’t concern myself with those details as I try to contain my impatience and demand they move on from the pleasantries. But I know with Len, you don’t rush, and you work within her confines.
“I’m giving you a head’s up that you’re on speaker,” Army says, glancing at me.
“Like I couldn’t tell,” she scoffs. “Who’s in the room with us?”
“Bane,” I reply.
Both Army and I had been involved in a favor that the Santoro mafia had called in to pick up and protect Creed’s woman, Sophie.
It just happened that Len and her team were searching for Sophie at the request of Sophie’s uncle, Antonio.
Things had turned out well for Sophie, and she's now living her best life, married to Creed, but I know a person like Len can hold a grudge.
“Well, this should be interesting,” she says.
Army shoots me a look, telling me to let him take the lead on this. “We need a favor, Len.”
“It’s not your turn to call one in.”
“That isn’t entirely true. Digits helped your team track the embezzled money from the bank.”
She huffs out a laugh. “It was Hedon’s money that got stolen.”
“Along with other accounts,” he argues. “Without Digits’ help, you would’ve never discovered the money was funding a terrorist cell.”
“Okay, fine. So that one cancels itself out. But the current balance in our ledger is still in my favor.”
“Don’t be a dick.” He laughs.
“It’s good to hear you laugh, Army.”
His smile falls. “Don’t fucking start,” he warns, knowing that Len is likely going to mention Leeva.
She sighs. “You know where I stand on this. I can help find—”
“No,” he says sharply and grips his hair. “Can we get back to the reason for this call?”
“You never call me to shoot the shit.”
He half-grunts, half-laughs. “Like you’re ever in the mood just to talk for shits and giggles.”
“True,” she mutters, then clears her throat. “But back to this favor… The team I work with doesn’t make it a habit to help criminals like you guys. The thing with Sophie, where we worked with the Santoros, was a one-time thing and strictly to save her.”
“This isn’t criminal business.” Army looks at me, wondering how much to tell her, and I nod. “It does involve the Havoc Guardians, though, and us needing to protect one of our own.”
“We can’t intervene in MC business, Army.”
“Even if it’s to protect an individual from the Vanderalls?”
We have no actual proof they’re a threat to Slade, but we need to know.
“Who now?” Len says. “The Vanderalls? The ones who have connections, and flaunt those connections, to the top tiers of power and security in this country? The Vanderalls, where the patriarch head, Theodore, is the godfather to the Secretary of Defense’s daughter?”
Thanks, Len, for reminding us of who we’re up against. They’re not just old-money-rich, but connected up to their finely groomed eyebrows.
“Yes.” Army watches me, ensuring I’m not about to lose it. “And don’t forget Theodore’s grandson, who was exposed as one of this decade’s top serial killers in the country.”
It takes Len mere seconds to connect the dots. “You have the mystery victim who escaped and killed Antwane Vanderall. The one who looked like they had been chained to the wall and tortured themselves, too.”
The FBI, police, and likely the Vanderalls themselves tried to contain the leak and retract the reports, but the damage was already done.
It added fuel to the fire of people wanting to find the mystery person who survived Antwane.
The authorities wanted all the details they could get from her.
The profilers wanted to pick her brain, trying to understand the fucked-up brains of psycho and sociopaths.
Then you had the morbidly interested, along with disturbed individuals and groups who would want to hurt Slade for daring to kill Antwane.
“Holy shit,” Len exhales. “It’s been two years; the Feds and many other agencies have been trying to find that person.”
“Along with the Vanderalls, we think.”
She picks up on that instantly. “You think?”
“We don’t have physical proof…that’s where we need your help.”
“Fucking hell, Army. Do you know what you’re asking? You want help hacking them? Do you realize they’ll likely have Department of Defense-level electronic security due to Theodore’s connection to the DOD?”
“I have an idea of what I’m asking, Len, but I’m still asking.”
“This person needs to come forward; it’s a goddamn time bomb for the MC, Army.”
“It’s not fucking happening,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Bane… You’re the Havoc Guardians’ VP, their defender, you gotta know—”
“She’s not going anywhere,” I snarl, vibrating with fury at the thought of anyone taking Slade from me.
“She’s family, Len.” Army keeps Slade’s identity hidden and places a hand on my shoulder to stop me from spiraling into a violent rage.
“We’ve vowed to keep her safe. And she can’t come forward for several reasons, one of which is because she can’t actually speak about what happened. She spirals and dissociates.”
“Fuck.” Len’s sigh is heavy. “So it’s as bad as I imagined?”
I remember seeing the leaked picture of the bloody smears and chains connected to the wall. The dried, rust-colored blood that pooled on the floor.
“It’s worse.” I only have a small insight into the hell Slade endured, and I can feel each one of her thick, ragged scars on her body that she let me feel. “So much fucking worse.”
Army’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “We need your team’s help, Len. We don’t have confirmation whether the Vanderalls are a threat, but we need to know. That’s all we need from you; if there is a threat, then we’ll take care of it.”
As Len considers, I hear a dull, rhythmic thumping noise, like she’s tapping a knife against something. “I’ll see if I can convince my team to help with this,” she finally says. “I can’t make any promises, though.”
“Thanks, Len.”
“But Army and Bane,” she adds. “Even if my team declines to help, personally, I’m all-in with whatever you guys need.”
“Thanks,” I rasp and clear my throat.
“We appreciate that, Len. Let me know as soon as your team decides.”
“I will.” Her voice is thick with emotion. “Keep this person safe however you can.”
Those are loaded words. Len knows we have a moral code, but she also knows we’re a criminal faction. Not that we need her permission, but it reveals her inclination toward the morally ambiguous side of things when it’s necessary to achieve her concept of the ‘greater good’.
Len disconnects the call, and Army locks his phone and pockets it in his suit, looking at me. “You good?”
I give a curt nod and fist my hands.
“How is Slade doing?”
“She felt the entire time with me without spiraling. She even laughed.” I omit the fact that I had made her orgasm twice.
“She was able to reveal some things to me about what Antwane did to her. Thirteen—” My throat closes, and I need to fight to remain in control. “He cut her after each kill that he made her watch; he cut her like it was some fucked-up punishment.”
“Jesus Christ.” Army’s eyes are filled with sympathetic pain, the kind only another survivor of something horrendous and traumatic can understand. “The long-sleeve shirts, the pants…” He understands why Slade won’t even push up her sleeves.
He turns away, and it’s me who grips his shoulder right now, knowing his own trauma and PTSD can sneak in. He turns back to me, and his gaze is present, not like the vacant, we-have-no-fucking-clue-where-he’d-go look of the past.
“I’m okay, brother.” His grave look increases though.
“The fact Slade is opening up to you is huge, Bane. Don’t stop, and don’t fuck this up.
Her life could very well depend on it. She needs to talk about what happened to her.
The more she can speak of it and the more she can stop repressing everything, the greater chance she’ll survive.
Not just with the threat that the Vanderalls pose, but with the war in her head. ”
“I know.” It’s a heavy weight, but I’ll gladly bear that and more to help Slade.
Not just to survive, but to regain the light and life that’s slowly coming back to her.
“Thank you,” I say, knowing words can’t properly express my gratitude.
“Go.” He nods his chin toward his door. “I’ll let you know when I hear from Len.”
I leave him, my long, determined strides carrying me back to Slade’s room.
Tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to make myself sit in the chair, guarding her from the shadows as I watch her sleep.
Tonight, I need to wrap her in my arms, have her feel my strength while she sleeps, and know that I’m her defender from any and all of her demons and the chaos inside her.
In the criminal underworld, I’m known as Havoc’s Defender, but first and foremost, I’m Slade’s defender.
And just hers. Full stop.