Chapter 22
S pencer: That bastard stopped her from reading.
You should have seen her looking at the book Slade gave her.
It was like all her Christmases had come at once and yet she didn’t feel like she deserved any gifts.
Also, no one give her flowers. He used to give her flowers as an apology and now they make her feel ill.
Fucking bastard.
Slade glowered down at his phone as he sat in his private booth at Club Slade.
This area was invite only. Which gave him a chance to watch the club uninterrupted.
Only tonight he didn’t care what was going on in the club. The entire thing could burn to the fucking ground for all he cared.
He’d stopped her from reading?
As long as Slade had known her, she’d loved reading. It was her escape from the world and all of her worries.
Although he was hoping that the four of them could be her safe haven. When she was with them she’d be able to forget all of her worries because they’d take care of them all .
The sooner they got her back into their penthouse, the better.
It was going to happen.
She would be theirs.
And everyone would just have to get with the fucking program or he would start knocking a few heads together.
Slade: Fucking bastard. We’re about to meet with Shepherd about finding him.
Spencer: When we do, I want a piece of him.
“That’s surprising,” Quaid said as he slid into the booth next to him, his phone in his hand.
“What is?” Slade asked as he tapped out a new message on the group chat.
“Spencer wanting a piece of someone.”
That was true.
Spencer was the least likely to lose his temper or to encourage violence. Some of the guys at boarding school thought that made him weak. They’d used that and the way he dressed as excuses to pick on him.
They’d had to teach those assholes the error of their ways. No one fucked with someone that Slade considered family.
And these three plus Indie . . . they were his.
Slade: How did she take you staying the night?
He glanced up as a well-dressed, dark-haired man slid into the booth next to him.
James Churchill had more money than God. Easily the richest guy at their school and people had fawned after him.
Which he’d hated .
Slade had hated him for the first three years of high school. He’d thought the other guy was a pompous jerk.
He kind of was.
But he was also loyal and a good fighter.
One day, Slade and Spencer had been cornered by eight guys who’d taken exception to something, he couldn’t remember what.
Church had been coming past and fought his way into the fray to help them.
From that day on, Church and his two best friends, Ramsay and Angus had been their friends.
Spencer: She didn’t even argue. It’s . . . weird. She got all teary-eyed when I put fluffy socks on her feet and since then she’s barely spoken. Did I fuck up? Again? Maybe Rock should have stayed.
Fuck.
Why would that upset her?
Rock: She’s probably overwhelmed. It’s likely been a long time since someone took care of her.
Fuck.
Slade ran his hand over his face.
Slade: Just don’t leave her. And find out what the doctor has to say. If she has to stay any longer, she’s going to a private hospital.
He glanced over as Rock slid into the booth next to Quaid. They both nodded to him and he set his phone down as Ramsey and Angus joined them. They were twins. They had dark red hair and were built large.
The last one to slide in was Shepherd. He was quieter, built slimmer than the others. His clothes were always a bit rumpled as though he never folded anything, just threw it on the floor.
“What’s going on?” Shepherd asked. “Is this a meeting of the Famous Five? But wait, there’s six of you. Where’s number seven?”
Slade shot Shepherd a look. “Not in the mood for your mouth.”
Shepherd leaned back in the booth with a shit-eating grin on his face as Quaid groaned quietly.
Fuck.
If he was hoping to get Shepherd to shut up he’d just done the wrong thing.
Shepherd opened his mouth to stir more shit, but Quaid leaned forward and looked at him. “Not today.”
Shepherd raised his eyebrows. “Not today?”
Quaid shook his head and to Slade’s shock, Shepherd sat back and gave them all a serious look. “What is it?”
“Indie,” Quaid said.
“Indie?” Ramsay asked in his Scottish accent. “What about Indie? Isn’t she with that eejit Billy? Can’t stand that fuckin’ prick.”
“He beat her,” Slade told them.
The other men all stiffened, fury filling their faces.
“What?” Shepherd asked, his face serious now. “Beat her?”
“And she’s pregnant,” Slade added. “With his baby.”
“He what?” Ramsey asked hotly.
“He’s a manipulative, abusive bastard. And I want him found.”
“I’ll find him,” Shepherd promised darkly. “We’ll make sure that bastard pays.”
“Where is she?” Ramsey asked. “In the hospital? Does she need somewhere to stay after she’s released?”
“We have room at our place,” Angus added. Both of them on the same page as usual.
A rush of anger filled Slade. Why were they offering Indie a place to stay ?
“She’s going to stay with us,” Quaid said coldly. There was no room for argument in his tone.
But he still noticed the way the twins glanced at each other.
“What?” Slade snapped.
“Thought you believed that the wee one betrayed you,” Ramsey said, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Wasn’t that what ye said? That she’d sold you out to the enemy? Namely Billy.”
“That’s what we thought happened.” Slade didn’t like having to admit that he’d been wrong. But he also didn’t want these guys to think badly of Indie.
And it was only fair to start righting a wrong.
“We were wrong,” he added. “It turns out that Billy used her to get to the plans and gave them to his client-slash-business partner. He’s the one that stole from us. And when Indie came to us a few months ago, she was trying to get away from him.”
“And we failed her,” Quaid added.
Rock grunted in pain.
“Fuck,” Ramsey said. “Ye’re gonna have to give the wee one your balls on a platter to make up for that.”
“The worst part is that she’s been pregnant, alone, and working her ass off while suffering through morning sickness,” Slade added. “And we should have been taking care of her all this time. If it wasn’t for Maggie, she’d be . . .”
Probably on the streets.
Which made him want to vomit. He couldn’t imagine that her mother would have helped her. According to his father, she was still jet setting it around with his business partner.
The bitch couldn’t care less about her only child.
“Out,” Rock said suddenly and Shepherd slid from the booth to let him stand.
He stormed off without another word.
“I can see he’s handling all of this well,” Shepherd said dryly.
“Would you?” Slade asked. “If the woman you’ve always loved, who you have wanted to be yours for years, was beaten and abused? If she’d come to you for help only you turned her away? And we weren’t fucking nice about it.”
“Then you’ve got a lot of groveling to do, haven’t you?” Church drawled. It took a lot to rile James Churchill, but Slade could see that his hands were clenching together as he rested them on the table. “What can we do to help?”
“Do you need someone to teach you how to say I’m sorry?” Shepherd asked.
Dick.
“I need you to find Billy,” Slade managed to get out between clenched teeth.
“Like I said, consider it done,” Shepherd told him. “Hell, I’ll even do it pro bono, you just pay expenses.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Slade said. “We’ll pay.”
“Not doing it for you,” Shepherd said as he stood. “Always liked Indie. Give her my fee. Quaid, you’ll send me what you have on him?”
“Already done. You should know that some of his connections have become shadier over the years. He now owns shares in Zodiac Construction, who we’ve always thought were dirty but we haven’t been able to prove it.”
“Good,” Shepherd said. “Gives me options to really fuck him over. Oh, and I’m gonna send you guys a gift. Don’t say I’m not generous!”
He got up and left. Shepherd had a membership, but he never played here. Slade wasn’t even certain he was a Dom and he usually had a pretty good feel for these sorts of things. Sometimes Shepherd seemed to act like a Dom, other times a sub.
Maybe he was a switch.
And what kind of gift did he intend to send?
“What do you need from us?” Church asked.
“I need you to take over the running of the club,” Slade told Church. “Free up some time for us.”
Church nodded. “Of course. ”
“Ramsey, I need you to take on more responsibility at the firm with Angus backing you.”
Both of the twins nodded.
“Don’t worry about everything else, we’ll take care of it,” Ramsey told him. “Just keep the wee one safe.”
They would.
He’d do anything to keep his girl safe. And from now on, he intended to make sure that no one ever touched her again.
Church and the twins left and Rock returned. He looked pale. Ill.
“Are you sick?” Slade asked him.
Rock shook his head. “Guilt.”
Fuck. Guilt was making him ill?
“We’re going to make this up to her, Rock,” Slade said. “She’ll be ours.”
His phone buzzed and he snatched it up, noticing that Rock grabbed his too.
Quaid just stared at his phone like it was a snake about to bite him.
“Don’t you care what Spencer has to say?” Slade asked as he glanced at the text.
Indie was asleep. Good. She needed rest.
“I’ll read it soon,” Quaid replied. “I have work to do.”
Slade watched him walk away with narrowed eyes. “Idiot thinks she won’t want him.”
This was going well.
Quaid was walling himself off because he thought there was no way she’d ever forgive him.
And guilt was making Rock physically ill.
“Slade! I need some help!” Margo rushed up to them, her hair slicked back, wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a neon boob tube that didn’t cover much.
For fuck’s sake.
“It’s Master Slade, and you’re not supposed to be in this area without permission. ”
Where the hell was Casper? What was the point of having monitors and bouncers if they didn’t do their job?
Margo waved her hand in the air. “Whatever.”