Down & Dirty_Slade

by Jeanne St. James

  “Yeah, princess?”

  “I can feel your heart pounding.”

  “Yeah,” he breathed and pressed his face deeper into her neck.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Fuck no, he wasn’t sure.

  He wasn’t sure at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Diamond sat at her desk in the office at Shadow Valley Body Shop and stifled a yawn. These late nights with Slade were kicking her ass. But they were definitely worth the dark circles under her eyes and her constant exhaustion.

  In the beginning, he was showing up a night here and there. Lately, it’d been almost every night. The only time he hadn’t made the effort to drive out to the farm was the couple of nights he closed the bar and didn’t get done until three or four in the morning. But normally he showed up around midnight and they’d bang one out. Or two. Then they’d talk for a little bit. Never about himself, though. Never that. He’d tell her the crazy stuff that happened at the bar that night or he’d ask about her day. They talked about nothing of importance.

  Then they’d fall asleep. And since she had to wake up a lot earlier than him, when she’d leave for work, he’d still be crashed in her bed. Every morning that happened, she’d stand in the doorway as he slept and watch him for a few minutes.

  And she felt it creeping in. Every morning that feeling got stronger as she studied him, even though she knew she shouldn’t let it, that falling for him might come back to bite her in the ass. But no matter what she told herself, it kept creeping. Not like an avalanche but more like lava flowing from a volcano.

  What Crow said about Slade being a rolling stone was lodged at the back of her mind, but her heart ignored it. And that was a dangerous thing.

  Problem was, when Slade mentioned about how he didn’t like her leaving the door open at night for him since she was usually asleep when he first crawled into bed with her, she offered him a key...

  Surprisingly, he accepted it. It shocked the shit out of her, but she chalked it up to him being worried about her safety with the Warriors on the prowl and her cabin being secluded.

  Even so, she wondered if taking that key meant anything to him or it was just a means to end.

  No matter what, she realized that Jewel was right, as was Slade, when she was getting laid, the ragged edges of her temper smoothed out. Who would have thought all it took was a bit of dick? Maybe it was more due to the man attached to that appendage.

  As she got to her feet to pour herself her fourth cup of coffee of the day in her struggle to keep her eyes open, Crash came crashing through the door from the shop into the office.

  His nose wiggled, and he spotted the fresh brewed coffee in the corner. “Thought I smelled caffeine.” He grabbed a mug that hung nearby and filled it, then grunted after taking a sip. “Shit’s good, babe. Keepin’ you here just on your ability to make fuckin’ bangin’ coffee.”

  He was keeping her here. Right. Like he had a choice. One thing about being a part of the DAMC was that everyone had to work. Preferably in one of the club-owned businesses. For years, she didn’t since she worked at the gym.

  Di was going to have to seriously give it some thought as to opening her own gym and instructing kickboxing full-time. Maybe she’d have to drop some hints to some of the guys, like Z and Hawk. Maybe even her brother and Ace. Forget Diesel. She could see him being the most unreceptive of her going out on her own, especially with an idea like hers. With as long as she worked at the gym, she pretty much knew the ins and outs of running one.

  Even so, until that day came, she should be “lucky” that Crash was “keeping her.” Uh-huh.

  Di held out her mug to him. “Pour me some.”

  He eyeballed her mug and lifted a brow. “Right.”

  She frowned. “Seriously, Crash, I made the shit, you can’t pour it for me since your ass is standing right there, blocking the coffeemaker?”

  “Nope. Get it yourself.”

  She pushed past him and did just that. When she turned, he was staring at her.

  Did she have something on her face? “What?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked, wearing a suspicious look.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just told you to get your own coffee an’ you didn’t flip out on me. Somethin’s up.”

  She took a sip of her coffee and settled back into her chair. Kicking her feet up on the desk, she leaned back and cradled both hands around the warm mug. “Why do you think something’s up?”

  He cocked a brow at her but stayed silent. He propped a hip against the counter where the coffee stuff was kept.

  “Crash.”

  “What?” he asked softly, distracted as he studied her like he’d never seen her before.

  “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

  His head jerked. “What?”

  “Do you think I’m a bitch?” she repeated impatiently and more slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

  Crash’s golden-brown eyes widened, his face got pale, and he straightened. “I... uh...”

  Their attention turned toward the shop door as Rig barreled through it, wiping his greasy hands off on a rag. “Just roll-backed in a rusty piece of shit for that total reconstruct you’re goin’ to do.”

  Crash’s eyes slid to Rig, then back to Di. “Rig can answer that.”

  Rig stopped short. “Answer what?”

  “Whether Di’s a bitch.”

  Rig took a step back, his eyes wide. “What? Why do I have to answer that?”

  “For fuck’s sake. One or both of you just answer the question honestly. Am I a bitch?”

  Rig pursed his lips as he twisted the rag in his hands. Crash stared at Rig.

  “Seriously?” she asked, then sighed. “Am I that bad?”

  “You run the office real good, Di,” Crash said quickly. “Almost as good as Jewel.”

  “Almost as good?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “An’ like I said, you make fuckin’ awesome coffee.”

  Well, there was that. What the fuck!

  “But you’ve been a lot nicer lately, gotta say,” Rig said. “You gettin’ laid or somethin’?”

  Jesus.

  “Yeah, Rig, I’m gettin’ laid.”

  Rig stroked a hand down his unruly beard. “By who?”

  Crash laughed, then said, “Slade still tappin’ your ass, Di?” He shook his head. “Man’s got steel balls on ‘im if he is.”

  “What? Why?” she asked him.

  Crash snorted. “No reason.”

  “Bet he’s got bruises, cuts an’ shit from her if he is,” Rig said.

  Di rolled her lips under and did her best not to laugh at how ridiculous this conversation was.

  “Why you never let me tap that, Di?” Rig asked her, looking at her now like he’d never seen her before.

  These guys.

  “First of all, Rig, you’d have to shave that fucking mess off your face.” She circled her hand in front of him indicating his unruly facial hair. “No woman likes that shit. Especially between her legs.”

  He frowned and ran his fingers over his mustache. “Thought they did.”

  “Yeah, when it’s taken care of and you don’t look like some wild-ass mountain man who hasn’t seen civilization in like twenty years.”

  “Nah, bitches like it.”

  Di laughed and shook her head. “No, bitches don’t like it.”

  Suddenly, he leaned over and kissed her right on the damn mouth. Enough of a peck to freak her out. She whacked at him. “Ew! See? It’s so gross. I can smell what you had for breakfast in that forest.”

  “Can probably taste it, too.” He smiled and left the office.

  Her gaze swung to Crash. “That was gross.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “See? The before-gettin-dick Diamond would’ve ripped his balls off for that. I like the after-getting-dick Diamond. Think Slade will take bribes?”

  “Shut up,” she muttered. “Don’t you have work to
do?”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “Can I get a kiss, too?” He leaned over and wagged his tongue at her.

  “No!” she screamed and smacked at him. “Go away.”

  He took his coffee and headed to the door, laughing. “You know what else you do good? Ordering Bangin’ Burgers. Get it delivered.” Then he headed out and slammed the door behind him.

  Di stared at the closed door for a moment, then sighed.

  If it wasn’t bad enough she just had to deal with Rig and Crash, her brother was the next one through the shop door.

  Jag was peeling off his work coveralls. “Why’s Rig out there talkin’ about doin’ you? Why do I have to hear that shit?”

  Di raised her eyebrows at him as he made his way to the coffeemaker, grabbed a travel mug and emptied the rest of the pot into it. “I don’t know. Did you ask him? How the hell do I know what’s going through that peanut he calls a brain?” She frowned when he didn’t start a new pot. “Just going to drink it all and not make more?”

  He took a sip then his steel blue eyes slid to the empty pot. “That’s your job.”

  “Oh. I see,” she said softly, her eyes narrowing. “Making coffee’s a woman’s work?”

  Jag’s spun his head back toward her. “Yep.”

  “Ivy make you coffee every morning?”

  “Yep.”

  “Does she spit in it because you’re useless?”

  Jag smirked. “Not useless, give her good—”

  Diamond slammed her hands over her years and shouted, “No! Nooooo. Ew. No.”

  Jag laughed. “Now you know how I feel when Rig’s talkin’ ‘bout tappin’ your ass.”

  “Ew.”

  “Right,” he grunted, dragging fingers through his dark hair. “Anyway, got a call from D. Me an’ you need to head over to the warehouse.”

  “Now? Why?” Di had never been over to In the Shadows Security. Not even to visit Jewel. In fact, D didn’t want anyone hanging around over there.

  “Dunno,” he said and shrugged. “Was hopin’ you’d know.”

  “If he needed to speak with both of us, why didn’t he just come here?”

  Jag tilted his head and stared at her. “Dunno, sis. Why don’t you ask ‘im?”

  “You’re the one who had him on the phone...” She lifted a hand. “Oh, wait. I’m thinking this is how the conversation went... Phone rings, you answer with a grunt. He grunts back. You grunt, then he grunts, grunts, grunts. Then you both hang-up. That the gist of it?”

  Jag’s lips curled up at the corners. “Yep.”

  She sighed, put her computer into sleep mode, then pushed to her feet. “Crash and Rig know we’re going?”

  “Yep.”

  “You going to say anything other than yep?”

  “Nope.”

  “Crash wants Bangin’ Burgers. We can pick it up on the way back.”

  “Yep.”

  She snorted and headed out the front door. “I think you were adopted.”

  He laughed as he followed her out.

  Diamond pushed through the office door and her gaze fell on Diesel sitting behind his desk. She did a double-take. Diesel had a desk? “Why the hell are you summoning us here, Your Ass-Holiness?”

  Diesel frowned at her. “Shut the fuck up an’ sit down.”

  Her eyes slid to a man who leaned against one of the walls. She’d never met him before and figured he must be one of D’s “Shadows.”

  The man’s expression was closed, unreadable. His eyes cold, his arms crossed over his chest, emphasizing how cut his muscles were. She could see a few tats peeking out from his T-shirt which fit snuggly over his broad chest and hugged his bulging biceps. His hair was military short and reminded her of Slade’s.

  Well, hello there.

  Di swiped her thumb at the corner of her mouth. If she hadn’t left Slade this morning in her bed, she might have had to turn on the charm to see if she could melt this one’s frosty exterior.

  “Sit. Down,” D barked with his normal happy-self attitude.

  She made a face at him. Three chairs sat in front of his desk and two of them were already occupied by Jewel and Jag. She gave her sister a questioning look and Jewel just shrugged in answer.

  So, her sister had no idea what this was about, either. That was weird since she was D’s ol’ lady.

  Then her attention shot back to Diesel when he announced, “Got news.”

  “’Bout what?” Jag asked, slouching in his chair and not looking at all worried about why all three of Ruby and Rocky’s offspring were asked to come to D’s warehouse.

  Diamond moved around Jag to the empty chair in the middle and began to sit.

  “Slade.”

  She landed hard on her ass in the chair and stared at D, her heart beating a little faster and her blood rushing into her ears.

  She had recently asked Diesel to check into Slade’s past, but she didn’t think he would actually do it. However, she knew D wasn’t a fan of Slade’s, so maybe that’s why he did.

  Jag shook his head. “Why am I here?”

  “Affects you, too. Affects all of you.”

  Diamond’s stomach churned. What could be in Slade’s past that would affect all three of them? Her eyes widened, and she felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh, shit! Please don’t tell me he’s our secret brother.”

  Jewel let out a groan and Jag’s head swung toward her, looking a little green himself.

  Diesel just stared at her, his face unreadable. “Guess you’re still fuckin’ ‘im?”

  Di squeezed her eyes shut at the horror of possibly having sex with her own blood relative. Her own half-sibling! “Oh fuck! Holy fuck!”

  “Ain’t your brother,” D grumbled with a frown.

  Her whole body collapsed like a rag doll. “Oh, thank fuck!” She dropped her head into her hands and sighed with relief. Because that would’ve been bad. Worse than bad. An epic fuck up. A shudder went through her as she shook that thought off.

  “Hunter,” D said with a chin lift to the man against the wall who hadn’t even made a sound yet.

  Hunter’s low, gravelly voice swept over them. “His father was a biker.”

  “Okay?” Jag asked, confused.

  “Name of Buzz.”

  Di stared at the man, waiting for him to continue. Apparently, getting information out of him was like trying to pour cold honey.

  “A Warrior.”

  Di blinked. And blinked again as what Hunter just revealed sank into her brain. Then that sick feeling overcame her all over again.

  “Holy fuck,” Jag said, sitting back in his chair. “Does Slade know?”

  “Dunno. Dunno what he knows. That’s the thing.”

  “He ain’t a plant is he?” Jag asked, swinging his gaze from Hunter to D.

  “Dunno that, either,” Diesel answered.

  Hunter continued, “If he knows his father was a Warrior he may very well have patched in to infiltrate your club.”

  “There’s more,” D muttered.

  “More?” Di croaked, eyes wide. Slade coming from Warrior blood wasn’t bad enough? And she slept with him. Multiple times! And she actually had feelings for him. Like deep feelings! If he was a mole for the Warriors...

  “Buzz is dead,” Hunter stated and straightened to a stand and scrubbing a hand over his severely short hair. “Killed by an Angel.”

  Diamond opened her mouth but nothing came out. Not air, not words. Nothing. She had somehow lost all her breath and couldn’t get it back.

  “What?” Jag asked, glancing at both of his sisters.

  “Yeah,” D grunted. Everyone’s gaze landed on the big man behind the desk. D’s gaze met hers. “Diamond, gotta keep your shit together, got me?”

  Her brain started to spin.

  “What?” she whispered. He needed to just spit it out. Holy fuck. “Just say it, D.”

  “Rocky took ‘im out.”

  Spots swam in Diamond’s vision and the whole room started to rotate quickly.
She dug her fingers into the arms of the chair because she felt like a top that was about to spin out of control and smash into the nearest wall.

  She could barely get, “You’re fucking lying,” out in a whisper. Jewel was suddenly squatting at her feet, her hands gripping Di’s thighs.

  “Hunter’s got no reason to lie, sis,” Jewel said. “D’s got no reason, either. You know that.”

  Di’s gaze flicked from her sister back to Hunter, who was now standing at the corner of Diesel’s desk, his intense sea green eyes pinned on her.

  Shaking his head, the man stated, “His real name was Gavin Bussard.”

  See? She knew he was lying. Slade wasn’t from Warrior blood. No fucking way. “Slade’s last name is Stone.”

  “That’s his momma’s last name.”

  Fuck.

  Diamond thought back to the articles she read on her father’s murder trial. She remembered there were two names listed of his so-called victims, but she couldn’t remember what they were. She’d have to go back and check with her mother, who had kept the articles.

  Holy fuck. This couldn’t be happening.

  Her father murdered Slade’s father.

  And she had no idea if Slade knew or not.

  Because if he did...

  Fuck. He could be setting her up. He could be setting the whole club up.

  She raised her gaze to D, who was studying her just as closely as Hunter. “He mentioned his father was a biker, that’s it.” He’d said that’s the only thing he knew about his father. If he knew anything else, he was keeping it from her.

  “Yeah,” D grunted.

  “What do we do?”

  “Nothin’. Don’t tell ‘im we know.”

  “But... my father killed his, D. Our father shot his!” Di felt the tightness in her chest growing by the second.

  “Diamond, see your mind spinnin’. Need to stay calm.”

  Stay calm. Well, that was easier said than done.

  “It’s possible he doesn’t even know the man’s dead,” Jag offered.

  “It’s possible he does,” Hunter answered. “It’s possible he knows Rocky did it,” his cold eyes pinned Di to the chair again, “an’ that he knows you’re his daughter.”

  If Slade didn’t know, he’d never forgive Di. If he did, she’d never forgive him.