Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
What Would JC Do?
S lade looked across the bar at Maggie. She dropped everything in her hands and rushed toward him.
“Sit here and drink, sweetheart,” Slade whispered to Nelle.
“Yeah? That’s what you want from me? To get drunk so you can fuck me?”
Slade gritted his teeth, reminding himself that Nelle had just lost not one sister, but two. Both shot to death. Both clearly murdered on purpose.
“Slade, what the hell is going on?” Maggie asked, almost jumping over the bar. “I heard that someone—”
“Maggie, this is Nelle,” Slade said. “Her sister was the one killed tonight.”
“Oh, fuck,” Maggie said. “You poor thing. I am so sorry.”
“It’s sort of a family tradition at this point,” Nelle said. “Lucky you’re not my sister, huh?”
Maggie let out a nervous laugh. “This is terrible. What are you drinking?”
“Anything,” Nelle said.
“You stay here and if anyone talks to you, you’re with me,” Slade said.
“And if I don’t say that?”
Slade curled his lip. “This isn’t a fucking game, sweetheart. This isn’t some movie either. You’re in the clubhouse of SOFRAW . Consider yourself in another world. The laws you think you know don’t apply here.”
“Just what I fucking need right now. More threats on my life.”
“Who threatened your life tonight, Nelle?” Slade asked.
He felt himself ready to pounce, wanting answers so he could find someone to kill to help ease Nelle’s suffering.
“My sisters were the threat,” Nelle said.
Slade heard someone say his name. Maggie put a glass of amber liquid in front of Nelle.
Fuck.
He looked over his shoulder and saw Cyrus and Linc standing at the open door to prayer. He hurried their way and into prayer. Linc shut the door.
Cyrus clamped a hand on Slade’s left shoulder. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, brother. That was well thought out. Whoever this is, they knew Calista was going to be there and knew how to cause a diversion.”
“Calista?” Linc asked.
“The one shot. Nelle’s other sister.”
“Nelle?” Cyrus asked.
Slade curled his lip. He knew how this appeared and sounded. Using these women’s names so casually as though he knew them. Implying that he and Nelle were fucking around or something.
“I met them at the funeral for the first one,” Slade said. “Remember that? Calista was the drunk one, blaming us. Screaming at us. Saying we’re the reason her sister was dead. And now she’s dead…”
“Is someone fucking with us?” Linc asked. “Setting us up?”
“Shit!” Cyrus roared. “What if it’s that goddamn rat in this club? Maybe it’s time we do what Johnny would have done, huh? JC would not have stood for this shit like I am. Chain every fucking patched in member up and keep them that way until we have the rat crying and pissing himself.”
“Cyrus, it’s not like it used to be,” Linc said. “Club can’t go silent and vanish. You know what that’ll do to the streets? Bad enough we’ve yellow bunny lingering around.”
“Okay, let me be the voice of reason here,” Slade said. “I already talked with Chief Dick. He’s more concerned that this is happening here rather than pointing a finger at us. He wants us to make this stop. Why the fuck do you think I brought Nelle here tonight?”
“Vulnerable and sad beautiful woman,” Cyrus said.
“Christ, Prez , really?” Slade asked.
“Like you wouldn’t,” Linc added.
“I’m going to find out as much as I can from her,” Slade said. “Keep her away from Chief Dick and anyone else looking right now. Hands off. She’s mine. Tonight.”
“She’s not wearing your ink, brother,” Linc said.
Rules were rules.
Without the proper ink, Nelle was fair game to anyone. And denial wasn’t a luxury in the clubhouse. To be fair, when Linc brought Nova around, that was one of the first things handled. Linc put his ink on her, making her his. Except this was different.
Slade knew attempting to argue that would be nothing but a waste of time. He hurried from prayer to find Nelle standing with her back against a wall. Monte towering over her.
The outlaw was pushing sixty but had the vitriol of someone in their early twenties. His life consisted of fighting, drinking, and fucking. Not to mention he had a hardcore belief on the unwritten rules of the club.
Fuck, Slade thought.
Nelle stood frozen, her body iced with fear. Debating if she should punch this guy in the face or kick him in the balls. Better yet, this crazed outlaw might like it. Or he might strike back.
Maggie had said to the outlaw several times to leave Nelle alone. She explained about her sister… The outlaw told Maggie to shut the fuck up and Maggie listened. Nelle quickly picked up on the fact that what Slade said was true. This place was lawless.
“You can be heartbroken and still have a fresh, warm pussy,” the outlaw said to her.
His breath smelled of booze, cigarette smoke, and as though his teeth, gums, and tongue had never met a toothbrush. Ever.
“Monte, back off,” Slade said, knowing shit was about to hit the fan.
Monte looked back. “What’s wrong? She yours?”
“That’s right.”
“Where’s the ink, Slade? Maybe we should make her strip naked and find the ink.”
“It’s club business, Monte,” Slade said.
Monte slowly turned, grinning. He was drunk as fuck, with the look of a fighter in his eyes.
“We settle it here then, Slade,” Monte said.
“I’m not fighting you right now, Monte.”
“You won’t defend her honor? Don’t want a taste of that sweet, juicy pussy?”
“Hey, fuck you, asshole,” Nelle finally found her voice. “I’m not some fucking prize.”
“Yes, you are,” Monte said, looking back at her. “And I love a woman with an attitude.”
“Nobody is fighting over a goddamn thing tonight,” Cyrus’s voice boomed through the clubhouse. “Got that? Slade, take her to the back and get her the fuck away from the bar and the front.”
“Really?” Monte asked.
“Really,” Cyrus said. He reached for a gun and pointed it at Monte. Nelle felt her legs shaking, ready to give out.
“Now if you want to run your mouth, I’ll make you suck the end of the barrel like some deecee on a cock,” Cyrus said. “But it won’t be a mouthful of jizz you’ll get, Monte. It’ll be a fucking bullet. The bitch is club property right now, and I say who gets to talk to her. Got that?”
Monte gave a nod and put his hands together. “No worries, Cyrus. No worries at all. Plenty of pussy to go around.”
Nelle wasn’t a fan of being called a bitch … but it was better than having Monte trying to dry hump her against a wall. She looked at Slade again. She didn’t want to believe for a second that an outlaw like Slade in a hellhole like this biker clubhouse could be her only chance at survival.
Then again, maybe it was time to start believing.
Slade had a few places around town that he could use as home if need be, including a room in the clubhouse. The best thing for Nelle at the moment was to stay right here in the clubhouse for the night. Essentially just hide from everything that had happened.
She was pent up, like a bomb ticking down with an invisible timer. The tension that poured from her… Slade had an idea on how to ease that tension…
“You’re a little clean and organized for some outlaw biker,” Nelle said.
“What did you expect to find in here, sweetheart?”
Nelle shrugged. “Maybe some dead hookers. A few naked women on the bed with needles in their arms.”
“That’s my other bedroom,” Slade said.
That comment at least got Nelle to smirk for a second. Then the room fell silent. Very silent. This was where Slade had to tap into whatever random nurturing side kicked in earlier when Marcus’s old lady showed up with that baby, looking for cash.
As Slade stepped closer to Nelle, she threw an elbow in advance to keep him away.
“Don’t even fucking try it,” she said.
“Try what?” Slade growled.
“You’re like that other one. The one who pinned me against the wall.”
“Monte? Nah. He’s just drunk and horny.”
“And you’re not?”
“I’m not drunk,” Slade caught himself saying way too quick.
Nelle’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help herself as her eyes looked down. For only a split second, but it was enough.
I cannot be thinking this right now. No fucking way. Looking down at the bulge in this biker’s jeans. Being in his room. No. No fucking way in hell.
“You might think I’m going to put some moves on you, and I get it. Wondering about my vicious tongue curling against your soft cunt.”
“Ew,” Nelle said. “That word.”
“What… soft ?” Slade grinned.
Nelle smirked again. “I think I’m too drunk for any of this.”
She took a step and Slade grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. Just like that, Nelle felt herself almost crumbling. Collapsing. Melting toward Slade. Looking up at him. That mean, dangerous look in his eyes.
As Slade looked down at her, he couldn’t help his thoughts. What man could? Nelle was beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Naturally perfect. Her chin. Her lips. Her high cheekbones. The color of her eyes— what fucking shade of blue is this?
He wanted to taste her lips. The thin lips staring up at him. And the honey-laced ones between her legs.
“There’s some stuff I need to know, sweetheart,” Slade said.
“Like what?”
“Everything about you and your sisters. I think we’re well past any chance of coincidence, don’t you?”
Nelle felt chills attack her body. Slade saw this happening.
“Who the hell are you, Nelle?” Slade asked. “Three sisters? As beautiful as you all are. Were . You three should be on social media as influencers , selling anything. Fuck. You could sell jars of air for a hundred bucks and you’d make millions just on your smile alone.”
The heat that now attacked Nelle’s cheeks made her feel as though she were standing in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the day, on the hottest day of the year.
“You think I’m stupid, sweetheart?” Slade asked. “I’m reading you like a book. But here’s the thing. I don’t have time to go cover to cover. Get what I mean? You need to give me the plot twists. Right fucking now.”
“Or what?” Nelle whispered.
Slade’s jaw grew tighter. He couldn’t believe this woman had the nerve to ask something like that. Then again, maybe he could believe it. After all, Nelle did walk up to him and punch him in the face. She was secretly ruthless. Secretly teetering on her own version of acting like an outlaw.
The kind of woman Slade had warned himself about getting near…