Down & Dirty_Slade

by Jeanne St. James

  Diamond just about melted when Axel traced a finger lightly over Zeke’s chubby cheeks.

  He lifted his head to pin his gaze on his brother. “My nephew in danger?”

  “Got it handled,” Zak answered gruffly, pulling his son from his brother’s arms.

  “Don’t think you do,” Axel said, surveying the crowded room. “You want SVPD’s help, Z, you need to be forthright, so we know what’s going on.”

  “Don’t need 5-0’s help.”

  Axel snorted and shook his head before looking at Bella. “We’re going home.”

  “Axel—”

  “No, Bella, you’re not staying here. If my brother wants to put his family at risk that’s up to him, but I’m responsible for you, so you’re coming home with me. We both could have died the night of the Christmas party when the Warriors shot up The Iron Horse.” He glanced back at Zak. “Going to notify the station to up the patrols in the area.”

  Zak ignored him.

  Axel sighed and put an arm around Bella. “Let’s go, baby,” he said softly.

  Diamond watched Axel steer his woman through the room and out the back door. Dex locked it back up again after they left.

  Diamond sighed. She wanted the same type of intense love that Axel felt for Bella. That strong need to protect her. He put up with a lot of shit from the club to be with her. And to him, she was worth every bit of it.

  “Slade ain’t a Warrior, then you ask his forgiveness for lyin’ to ‘im. He don’t understand it, then move on,” Crow murmured next to her, his gaze still glued to the door Bella and Axel disappeared through. “You deserve that shit, too, baby doll. All you women do.”

  She turned to Crow and studied his honey-colored skin, his sharp cheekbones, his dark, dark eyes and his pitch-black hair that fell down his back in a long, straight ponytail. “You do, too, Crow. We all do.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “All can’t have love like that. Ain’t possible.”

  “For once, I hope you’re wrong.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aspirin wasn’t going to cut it when it came to easing the pounding in Slade’s head. Not that anyone was offering him an aspirin or anything else for that matter. Once again, he found himself on a cold, concrete floor who knows where.

  He tried his damnedest to open his eyes, but it was still impossible. However, there were voices nearby, heated and loud.

  He tugged at his wrists, but the duct tape wrapped tightly around them didn’t give at all. If he was going to escape, now would be the perfect time since it sounded like the Warriors were distracted with whoever they were arguing with.

  Fuck!

  Slade shifted his head so he could hear better. He swore he heard Hawk’s voice, raised in anger.

  He told Diesel not to come get him. He knew they’d be walking into a trap. But his brothers came anyway.

  Why did they think he was worth it? They’d regret their decision once they found out that Slade’s father was a Warrior. Probably even strip him of his colors. Possibly even carve the rockers right off the skin of his back.

  “Got your fuckin’ guns, got your ammo, give us Slade.”

  Diesel.

  “Ain’t done negotiatin’,” one of the Warriors said. “Wanna truce.”

  “Why? So you can break it?” Yeah, that was clearly Hawk’s voice, which was as tight as a guitar string, like he was doing his best to keep himself under control.

  “Got men huntin’ us?”

  “Now, why would we need to hunt your asses?”

  “Had a couple go rogue,” one of the Warriors muttered.

  Rogue. Right. No one in DAMC would believe that lie.

  “You mean Black Jack an’ Squirrel? Rogue as in beatin’ an’ rapin’ our women? That kinda rogue?”

  “Prez didn’t approve of that.”

  “Right.”

  Shit, that last answer sounded like Dawg. Why the hell was the strip club manager here?

  “Prez approve of shootin’ up my fuckin’ bar?” Hawk growled.

  “Wanna truce or not?” one of the Warriors shouted.

  “Just want Slade. Ain’t gonna agree to a truce so you can come in an’ hit us when we’re least expectin’ it.”

  “Well, fuck ya, then. Bastard’s in there. Can’t believe you want a man with Warrior blood runnin’ through his veins.”

  “Ain’t Warrior colors on ‘is back.”

  That last came from Jag. Fuck, that meant at least four Angels had come for him. Four were putting themselves at risk by walking into a trap. Because that was what this was. The Warriors were going to use him to take out as many Angels as they could.

  Slade heard several sets of heavy boots heading his direction. He tried to call out a warning for them not to approach him, but he couldn’t get the words out. The only thing escaping him was a groan of pain.

  “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Diesel shouted.

  The sound of approaching boots quickened, then someone was on the ground next to him, and a few seconds later a knife was sawing at his bindings.

  “Still breathin’?” Hawk asked.

  “Yeah,” Dawg said near Slade’s head. “Breathin’ but ain’t good.”

  “Wanna truce when you do shit like this?” Hawk sounded outraged.

  “Was askin’ too many questions,” one of the Warriors replied.

  Slade attempted to clear his throat and tried to warn them again, “Ta...rap.”

  Diesel finished sawing through the Duct tape and said, “Yeah, brother, takin’ you home.”

  Slade wondered if the club enforcer even heard him.

  As D sliced at the tape binding his ankles, the big man muttered, “’Justice is for those who deserve it... Mercy is for those who don't.’”

  Slade had no idea what the fuck D was talking about but suddenly it sounded like everyone hit the deck and someone, he thought it might have been Dawg, covered his head as some sort of flash-bomb detonated.

  His heart was racing so hard the blood rushed into his ears. Either that or they were ringing from the explosion.

  Suddenly, whoever had covered his head was up and away. Slade found himself free, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate since they’d been bound in one position for so long.

  Fuck! He had no clue what the hell was happening. Fighting through the pain, he forced himself to sit up as best as he could and listened to the activity around him.

  He wasn’t sure who had the upper hand as all he could hear was shuffling, muffled grunts and what sounded like bodies falling to the floor.

  It pissed him the fuck off that he couldn’t do anything to help his brothers. He couldn’t see, could hardly move. He was weaker than a goddamn newborn baby.

  Without warning, he was grabbed by both the armpits and legs and hauled up as two people carried him out.

  “Everythin’s under control, brother. D didn’t lie when he said we’re takin’ you home,” Hawk assured him.

  Slade tried to ask what the hell was going on. “What...”

  “D’s crew’s here takin’ care of business. All you gotta know.”

  Slade could tell when he was carried outside as the air became a little easier to breathe through his mouth. A deep male voice he didn’t recognize said, “Found his cut in their van. Takin’ the vehicle to dispose of it.”

  Diesel grunted an answer.

  “Warriors—”

  D cut off whoever was speaking, “Yeah.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  “Wonder where the fuck his sled is?” Dawg asked. He must be carrying his legs.

  “Don’t think any of ‘em’s capable of answerin’ that anymore. Ain’t gonna worry about that right now,” Hawk said. “Gotta get ‘im to the hospital.”

  Slade heard a vehicle door open then he was slid onto the seat and the door slammed shut.

  Two people climbed into the front of whatever vehicle he was in.

  “No... hospital,” he got out. But just barely.

  “Gott
a get checked out, make sure you ain’t dyin’, ain’t got brain damage,” Hawk said from what sounded like the driver’s seat.

  “Doin’ Diamond. Got brain damage,” Diesel grunted from the passenger seat.

  “Rig...”

  “Ain’t doin’ Rig,” D grumbled.

  “Rig...” Slade tried again.

  “She ain’t doin’ Rig,” he shouted impatiently. “Told her to stay clear of you ‘til we knew which side your loyalties were on.”

  What the fuck? So the Rig thing was a lie?

  “Made it up, brother, tryin’ to get clear of you. Gave her no choice,” Hawk said over the sound of the vehicle.

  Slade didn’t know whether he was relieved that Diamond lied to him or pissed. He’d have to figure that out later since right now D was driving him to the hospital and that was the last place he wanted to go.

  If what his brothers said was true and Diamond didn’t fuck Rig... there was only one bed Slade wanted to land in tonight and it was not one at a hospital. Not knowing if he was going to live or die while in the Warrior’s hands had made him do some serious thinking during that time. And even if he ended up being pissed at Di for lying to him, he knew he’d get over it quickly, that the woman was worth it.

  Then it hit him that she had done what Diesel had told her... found a way to separate herself from Slade. The bigger picture was that she had listened. She might tend to be difficult, but she had heeded the man’s direction when it really mattered. And that gave Slade hope.

  Because if he was going to settle down with anyone, it was a woman who could compromise. And she proved she had it in her.

  Thank fuck.

  Diamond did her best not to fall to her knees as Jag and Dawg helped Slade through the door of her cabin.

  She covered her mouth with her hands because she didn’t need the whimper she fought back to escape.

  Even after going to the hospital and getting checked out, Slade looked like total hell. Like he’d been beaten to a bloody pulp.

  His eyes were puffy and discolored, a white bandage crossed over his nose, his bottom lip was split, a multi-colored bruise covered his right cheek bone and he wore a bloody shirt.

  His filthy cut was gripped in Dawg’s hand and he held it out to her. She rushed forward, grabbed it and draped it over one of her kitchen chairs. She’d do what she could to clean it up later, once Slade was settled comfortably in her room.

  When she got the call from Hawk that they were at the hospital with Slade, she had told the club VP that under no circumstances were they taking him anywhere other than her place once he was released.

  It took everything in her power not to rush to the hospital, but Hawk said Slade was getting busy getting checked by medical staff for broken bones and a concussion and there was no point in her coming there just to be a thorn in their side.

  Her. A thorn. Right.

  The doctors determined he had no broken bones except for a couple of ribs and he had a mild concussion, along with a broken nose and a badly bruised face. They didn’t want to keep him overnight and he was complaining so badly that he wanted to leave that no one was going to force him to stay anyway. But someone needed to keep an eye on him and assist him.

  And, of course, Diamond made it quite clear that she was the only one who was going to be taking care of him. Whether Slade liked it or not.

  Before Dawg and Jag brought him to the cabin, she made sure to change the sheets, go to the grocery store to stock up on food and over-the-counter pain meds and whatever else she’d need to make him comfortable. She was in it for the long haul. Whatever he needed until he was up and around, she would do it for him.

  She was going to make up for lying to him and kicking him out of her bed one way or another.

  “Take him into my bedroom,” she directed Jag and Dawg, raising an arm in the direction they needed to go.

  Before they could move, she rushed past them, leading the way. At least Slade was on his own two feet. He was slow and unsteady and needed Jag and Dawg’s assistance to walk, but still, it was a good sign.

  She was freaking sick of the Warriors hurting her family and it needed to stop. If death to them all was one way to stop them, so be it.

  As she walked into her bedroom she asked, “What happened to the Warriors who did this?”

  “Dealt with,” Jag muttered.

  She stopped and turned to face her brother. “How?”

  “Di, know I can’t talk about it.”

  “Just tell me, do we have to worry about them coming after us again?”

  Jag met Dawg’s eyes then turned back to her, “No. An’ that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  Diamond gave him a sharp nod and swiped at her eyes before they started leaking in front of Dawg and her brother. She pulled back the sheet and indicated to them to help Slade into bed.

  They did so after removing his boots and socks and, with a few groans, Slade was settled in. She carefully propped a couple of pillows behind him, so he could sit up comfortably. Or as comfortably as possible.

  With a closer look at his swollen and discolored face, she asked, “Can you see?” The little bit of his one eyeball she could see was full of blood since a vessel had been broken. She winced.

  “A little,” Slade answered.

  Hawk had said Slade needed some stitches and there was a bandage over his left eye.

  “Do you want the TV remote?”

  When he didn’t answer, she tucked it near his hand and said, “I’m going to walk these guys out. I’ll be right back.”

  Again, he didn’t answer, and her heart skipped a beat. He probably hated the thought of being left behind in her care because he still believed she deceived him by cheating with Rig.

  She followed Dawg and Jag out, closing the bedroom door behind her.

  “Did he resist coming here?” she asked them as they headed for the front door.

  “No,” Jag answered, stopping by Slade’s cut at the kitchen table and staring at it. He shook his head, frowning. “Fuckin’ Warriors,” he grumbled.

  Dawg patted him on the back. “Gotta go, brother. Gotta get back to the club and get it opened up.”

  “Do you think it’s safe enough?” Diamond asked him.

  Dawg shrugged and scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Can’t show those fuckers fear. We do, they win.”

  “Make sure you lock your door once we leave, sis.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that. Ace, Moose and Rooster are still up at the farmhouse, they’ll stop and question anyone driving onto the farm.”

  “Yeah, but you’re out here in the woods.” Her brother lifted his chin toward her bedroom. “He ain’t gonna be any protection for you right now.”

  “Got something you can leave behind? I don’t have a gun or anything... Just in case,” she added.

  Jag and Dawg traded looks then her brother dug his hand under his cut into the back of his jeans and took out a compact handgun. He placed it on the kitchen table near Slade’s cut.

  “Careful with it,” he warned her. “Know you know how to handle it, but still...”

  “I’ll put it on the nightstand near Slade. Again... just in case.”

  Jag nodded. “Any problems call me or D immediately, got me?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, grateful that Jag was her brother. Even though their father was in prison for most of their lives, Jag still turned out to be a good man. She gave him a hug and he returned it, pressing his lips against the top of her head. “Do me a favor and tell Crash I won’t be back at the shop until Slade can get up and around on his own, will you?”

  “Yeah, sis, I’ll tell ‘im,” he said softly and let her go. Seconds later she watched as they walked out the front door and she locked it behind them.

  She turned and leaned back against the door, pressing her hands to her face. She took a couple deep shaky breaths, pushed off the door and on her way back to the bedroom, snagged the gun, checking the safety.

  She pushed the bedroom door open an
d stopped. The last time she paused in her bedroom doorway was about a week ago when she had watched Slade sleeping in her bed before she left for work. She remembered how she felt while she studied him then...

  She swallowed hard.

  Now, he laid in her bed lucky to be alive. Her feelings hadn’t changed one damn bit in the last week. If anything, her worrying about him made them even stronger. Those days he had disappeared without a word had eaten at her. And she hadn’t realized how strongly she felt about him until he was gone.

  But now he was back, and she was going to have to deal with whatever it was she was feeling. After lying to him about Rig, she knew from here on out, she had to be nothing but honest with him. That was the only way they were going to get past it.

  She glanced down at the gun in her hands and closed her eyes. There were probably ten bullets in the clip. She wanted nothing more than to make ten Warriors pay for putting Slade through this. For putting her through it, too.

  She had no idea how many Warriors existed since they were nomads and they seemed to be like roaches. You might see one, but you know there were many more hiding. And they kept multiplying. Take some out, more popped up in their place. There never seemed to be a shortage of new prospects and new members for that outlaw club. But the bad thing was, the new members and prospects were taking up an old beef that had affected none of them. Something they didn’t even have firsthand knowledge of. And she had no idea why. It made no sense to her.

  With a sigh, she moved into the room and placed the gun next to Slade on the nightstand. He watched as she did it but said nothing.

  She didn’t like how quiet he was. But then he was probably exhausted. She moved the remote out of the way, since he hadn’t turned on the TV, and sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his thigh. It reminded her that he had no spare clothes at her place and he needed to get out of his blood-stained ones.

  Tomorrow she’d get a prospect to grab some stuff from his room at church. But right now she needed to talk to him and see if he’d ever forgive her. And not just for lying to him, but for what her father had done. She had no idea how he felt about that.