Down & Dirty_Slade

by Jeanne St. James

  Slade groaned. His head was killing him. He’d done it again. Ended up totally fucking trashed and he wondered whose lap or bed he’d ended up in last night. Whoever it was, it wasn’t the one he wanted it to be.

  He was lying on his side and realized it wasn’t only his head that hurt, but his whole body ached like a motherfucker and his arms felt numb, as though they were asleep.

  He yelled out in pain when something hard and heavy connected with his ribs.

  “Coulda killed you. But didn’t.”

  What the fuck?

  He tried to open his eyes. The left eyelid partially lifted, the right one seemed broken. For some reason he couldn’t get it to work no matter how hard he tried.

  With his narrowed vision he couldn’t see much of anything. Though, directly in his line of sight looked like his DAMC cut lying next to his head. On the floor.

  Who the fuck did that? His colors should never touch the floor. Doing so was disrespecting the club and the brotherhood. A brother could get their ass beat for that, if not tossed out of an MC.

  He thought he had safely hidden it in this saddlebag.

  When he attempted to roll over, he discovered with annoyance his arms and legs wouldn’t move. Not only were they asleep from being in an uncomfortable position, he was tied up with something, but he couldn’t tell what.

  Fuckin’ Christ.

  Fucking Warriors must have either knocked him out cold or drugged him. By the way his head hurt it could’ve been either.

  “Wanna know why you were askin’ ‘bout Buzz, asshole.”

  While he was down and out they must have beat the shit out of him. Because if he’d been conscious, there would’ve been no way he would’ve let them get in the number of hits it would’ve taken to make his body feel this badly. It not only fucking hurt to breathe, any movement was excruciating, he couldn’t see shit, and he hadn’t tried talking yet.

  But he was about to.

  In his limited line of sight, he saw a boot stomp on his cut and grind it into the filthy concrete.

  “Why the fuck was you askin’ ‘bout Buzz?” came the impatient shout from somewhere above him.

  “Pop,” Slade forced out on a cough.

  “What’d he say?”

  “Think ‘pop’,” said a second male voice.

  It took everything Slade had to say, “Lookin’ for my... father.”

  “Buzz ain’t your pop.”

  “Know ‘im?” he asked, unable to see whoever was in the room, which put him at a huge disadvantage. Not that being trussed up wasn’t one already.

  Slade didn’t get an answer. Instead he heard some low murmurs a distance away from him.

  Then he heard heavy footsteps, a pause, then someone drop kicked him in the ribs.

  Fucking goddamn, that hurt. Then a blurry face was near his. “Why you with the Angels when your pop’s a Warrior? You’re lyin’.”

  Slade sucked in a breath to answer, but he couldn’t.

  His father was a Shadow Warrior.

  Fuck.

  He had no idea. He only knew the man was a biker.

  Over the years, Slade had hit so many biker bars, asking anyone who would listen if they knew a biker named Buzz and he’d never got a solid lead.

  Now, he finally got his answer...

  One he didn’t want to hear.

  His father was a fucking Warrior. And Slade became an Angel, the Warriors’ hated rivals.

  Life couldn’t be so fucking ironic, could it?

  Even so, he still wanted answers from his father. He wanted to know why he deserted his mother when she discovered she was pregnant.

  Slade wanted to know why Buzz didn’t come back when the mother of his son died.

  He wanted to know why his father didn’t come get him when he ended up in a foster home.

  When he ended up with no family.

  When no one else wanted him.

  When he was fucking raised by strangers who weren’t blood.

  Why did his father hate him enough to desert him?

  “Gotta... talk to... ‘im,” Slade struggled to get out.

  Laughter surrounded him. Slade tried to figure out how many Warriors stood over him. His best guess was the six he had talked to at the bar.

  He also guessed that he wasn’t getting out of this alive. Unless he could convince them to take him to his father.

  “Can talk to ‘im on the other side when we kill ya.”

  “Can’t understand why you’d be an Angel when one of ‘em killed your pop.”

  “Asshole got no sense of loyalty.”

  An Angel killed his father?

  “You know, maybe we can get a message to the Angels. Tell ‘em to come get their boy. Maybe take out a few of ‘em when they come ridin’ in to rescue ‘im.”

  “Ambush ‘em like they did our brothers in South Side.”

  “Surprised they patched this fucker in since he’s got Warrior blood in ‘im.”

  “Stupid fucks.”

  “Need a reason to get some of ‘em here. Need a good reason why we didn’t take his ass out an’ kept ‘im breathin’ instead.”

  “Think they still got Black Jack?”

  “After all these months? Fuck no. Bet Jack’s dead an’ buried.”

  “What do they have that we want?”

  “Want all of ‘em dead.”

  “Want Shadow Valley.”

  “They ain’t giving up territory for this fucker.”

  Slade knew that was true. DAMC wasn’t giving up their area for his ass. He was new to the club, not born into it, and once they knew he had Warrior blood running through his veins, he wouldn’t be surprised if they stripped him of his colors.

  He couldn’t imagine any of them, especially Diesel, would want to negotiate for him.

  He was screwed. The Warriors held his life in their sadistic hands. And it wasn’t looking good for him.

  “Could tell ‘em we want guns an’ ammo in exchange. Got that gun shop. We could stock up.”

  “Yeah, an’ then use their own shit against ‘em.” A couple of them laughed at that.

  They had already shot up The Iron Horse during the club’s Christmas party. If they had more weapons and ammo, they could do so much worse. Slade had a feeling that D’s crew was slowly taking out some of the nomads one by one. But he couldn’t be sure, since Diesel never talked about it. He kept that information locked down tight. And he could understand that since D wanted to keep the club off Shadow Valley PD’s radar. For the most part.

  But the DAMC owed the Warriors a lot of payback. For more than just shooting up The Iron Horse. For setting Zak up and sending him to prison for ten years, for assaulting Kiki and Jazz, for kidnapping Jewel, for fire-bombing the bakery, for destroying Jag’s sled. And so much more. From what Slade understood, their rivalry started decades ago.

  But it was hard to keep the club legit and not exact revenge on the Warriors. It was a fine line they walked trying to keep everyone out of prison but seeking retribution on the rival MC and, not only that, trying to keep everyone safe at the same time.

  It was probably why Diesel didn’t trust him. Slade was an outsider and there was a lot of weight on D’s shoulders to keep everyone protected. Really, it was too much for one man to handle and Slade now understood why he had his crew, his “Shadows.”

  “Gimme ‘is cell. Gonna text one of ‘em an’ make a demand.”

  If they texted D, the man would probably tell them to just fuck off and do whatever they wanted to Slade.

  “Maybe we should tell ‘em we wanna sit-down for a truce. Still demand some guns an’ ammo as payback for Black Jack.”

  “Think they’ll believe we wanna truce?”

  “Know they’re tryin’ to keep their club legit. Buncha fuckin’ pussies. Might be willin’ if we tell ‘em we’ll wipe the slate clean. Have a feelin’ Diesel’s crew’s huntin’ us down. Haven’t heard from a couple members lately. Makes me wonder what the fuck happened to ‘em.”
<
br />   “Think they’ve been takin’ us out?”

  “Gotta feelin’ someone is takin’ us out or tryin’ to.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Right. So let’s use this piece of shit to lure a few of ‘em here. Got six of us. We’ll tell ‘em we got two an’ to send two. Know they’ll send more. Means we’ll get to take out more. Gotta get the prez, VP, an’ enforcer here, for sure. Wipe out the top first. Then we’ll gather our brothers an’ sweep into their territory an’ take ‘the rest of ‘em out. Take Shadow Valley, take their businesses. Hell, take their women. Fuck ‘em all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Diamond chewed on her bottom lip. Church was packed with all of the club members, prospects and DAMC women. Everyone was there except the older women who were instructed to remain at the farm with Ace, Rooster and Moose.

  The demand that Your Ass-Holiness sent by mass text said to be at church by four PM. No exceptions, no excuses.

  It seemed to be an emergency church meeting, but normally the women were not allowed at the meetings, so this had to be more than that. Something big.

  Di’s heart thumped in her chest. This had to do with Slade. No doubt.

  Diesel, Hawk and Zak stood at the front of the room by the bar and a low murmur circulated through the common area.

  Sophie had baby Zeke on top of the bar in some sort of rocking carrier to keep him quiet and content. Even from where Di stood with Jewel, Bella and Kelsea, she could see Sophie’s face was pale and she looked worried. The woman only had eyes for Zeke and Zak.

  And Di could understand why. Those two were her life.

  Di needed to know what was going on. She couldn’t take the wait any longer. She was about to freak out like a lunatic and demand that Diesel tell them why they were all summoned to the clubhouse when she asked Jewel, “Do you know what the hell is going on?”

  Jewel turned worried blue eyes to her but shook her head. “No. He hasn’t said a fucking word to me. Sometimes that shit drives me crazy. Whatever this is about is new, though. Something must have happened recently.”

  “Think it has to do with Slade?”

  Jewel curved an arm around Di’s waist and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t know for sure, sis. But I can’t imagine it doesn’t.”

  Di met Ivy’s eyes across the room where the redhead was pulled against Jag’s chest. Di gave her a look and lifted her chin at her brother. Ivy shook her head slightly and shrugged.

  Hell, Ivy didn’t know anything either, which meant Jag didn’t know squat.

  Diesel, Zak or Hawk needed to start talking soon or Di was going to lose her freaking mind.

  She blew out a relieved breath when Hawk finally shouted, “’Kay, listen up an’ listen good. Got more Warrior shit goin’ down. Need everyone not involved to stay here at church ‘til this current shit’s dealt with. Got me?”

  A murmur swept through the room.

  “Got all the businesses on lockdown right now ‘til it all gets sorted—” Hawk stopped abruptly when Diesel grabbed his arm.

  D pinned his gaze on Bella and said, “What you hear ain’t for your ol’ man’s ears, got me?”

  All eyes landed on the brunette as she straightened, and it was hard to miss her spine stiffen and her lips flatten.

  “Gotta hear an answer, Bella. Nothin’ can leave this room. Can’t keep this shit to yourself, can’t keep your loyalties straight, gotta go.”

  As if one, all the women in the room sucked in a collective breath. D had always been close to his cousin and very protective of her, so none of them ever expected Diesel to say something like that to her. Never. But they all understood the club business had to remain just that, in the club. Especially if it concerned anything illegal or something that could be conceived as not on the up and up. Even though Bella’s ol’ man was Zak’s brother, Axel was still a cop. And that could mean trouble.

  And with Diesel drawing the line in the sand with Bella, it became clear that there was something going on that they didn’t want the police to find out about. This made the pit in Di’s stomach deepen and she dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from dropping to her knees into a bundle of nerves.

  It was also clear that none of the brothers up at the front of the room would continue until they heard Bella’s answer.

  Diamond felt sorry for Bella having to choose sides. These were instances where it was impossible to remain loyal to both her man and her family. And that had to tear her apart.

  “Won’t leave this room,” Bella finally said with a frown.

  Watching the woman struggle with her conscious drove it home that Diamond was struggling with it, too. Knowing Slade had Warrior blood in him made it hard for her to stand by him, but it was also hard to push away her feelings, to just turn away from him like he meant nothing to her.

  Because he did mean something to her, that was for damn sure.

  But the club meant more. The DAMC would always be her foundation, her rock, one that she could rely on no matter what happened. And she couldn’t toss that aside. She wouldn’t.

  As she glanced around the full room, the fact that she loved this club, loved this family as much as any of the patched brothers, was cemented deep inside her.

  “’Kay, then,” Hawk yelled out. “Here’s the deal... D got a text from Slade’s phone. Someone who only identified himself as a Warrior stated they got Slade.”

  A roar rose throughout the room. Hawk lifted a hand and Diesel pounded his fist on the bar to get everyone to quiet down.

  “Said in exchange for Slade they want a sit-down...”

  “For what?” came an outraged voice from the other side of the room.

  “A truce.”

  Grumbles and curses rose around Diamond. She didn’t believe they wanted a truce, either.

  It had to be a set-up.

  “Since findin’ out that Slade’s father was a Warrior, we really don’t know where his loyalty lies. Could be usin’ him to lure us in. Could be they really want a truce. Can’t imagine that’s true, though.”

  “Sneaky fuckin’ bastards,” Crash yelled out.

  A whole lot of answering “yeahs” were shouted.

  Hawk raised his hand again. “Not only want a sit-down, want some guns an’ ammo as payback for Black Jack’s... disappearance.”

  Black Jack was the Warrior who kidnapped Jewel. He was also one of the Warriors who assaulted Kiki and raped Jazz. Everyone had been told he escaped when Diesel, Hawk and Zak, as well as D’s crew, went after him.

  Apparently, that wasn’t true. Diamond hoped they took that fucker out. And made him suffer while they were at it.

  Di’s eyes slid to Bella. Her face was pale, and she was leaning against Crow who had an arm around her.

  Maybe it would have been better if Bella had left, the more details she heard the more she had to keep from Axel. And Diamond didn’t want anything pulling those two apart. Axel was good for Bella and if anyone deserved happiness, that woman did.

  Di turned her attention back to Hawk as he continued, “They want Z, me an’ Diesel to meet ‘em. Told ‘em that Z ain’t showin’ up no matter what they fuckin’ want.” Hawk did a chin lift toward Sophie and the baby. That motion spoke volumes. There was no way Diesel or Hawk would send the man who was not only the president of the club into danger but a new father.

  “You sure they got ‘im? Ain’t a trap?”

  “Could be a trap. Like I said, could be usin’ ‘im to lure us in. Could be he’s on their side settin’ us up. But D demanded a pic so we could use the lat an’ long to find ‘im like we did Jewel, but they refused. So he demanded to talk to Slade instead an’ when they put the phone up to ‘im he said not to come get ‘im. But fuckers cut ‘im off before he could say anything else.”

  Di’s stomach churned.

  She closed her eyes and tried to push aside the image of Slade being injured or worse in the hands of the Warriors. She fought down the nausea caused by the possibility that Slade might not come out of
this alive. The Warriors could kill him without a second thought.

  But she wondered how they got him. Why was Slade even their target? Could it be that he really was setting the DAMC up? That he truly was a Warrior like his father?

  Was he on a path of revenge for his father’s death?

  She didn’t want to believe it. And she knew that was foolish on her part, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to believe that Slade had honor and loyalty. No, she didn’t want to believe it, she needed to believe it.

  She needed to hold on tightly to that one thin thread of hope.

  “Here’s the deal,” Zak said, taking over from Hawk. “Everyone’s gotta stay here. Got Ace with Moose an’ Rooster out at the farm watchin’ some of the women. Otherwise, you’re all here for the duration. Don’t want ‘em doin’ a surprise attack when we’re dealin’ with this Slade shit. So, no one’s leavin’ here, got me?”

  “Who’s all goin’ an’ where do they got ‘im?” Dex asked.

  “Don’t know yet. They’re gonna text the location to us when we’re ready. Told ‘em we need time to gather the guns an’ ammo they want. Told ‘em they need to keep Slade alive while we do that or the deal’s off the table.”

  Nash yelled out, “You really gonna go in an’ work out a truce with those fuckin’ bastards?”

  The room got so quiet that Di could hear herself breathe.

  Hawk and D’s gaze met, then Hawk surveyed the room. “Ain’t dealin’. Gotta plan. Gonna keep it on the D.L. for now. Like Z said, for safety’s sake, everyone gotta stay here until we return... with or without Slade.”

  “If he’s a Warrior, gonna take ‘is ass out, too,” Diesel grumbled loud enough that Di heard it. His eyes, cold as ice, landed on Di, slid to Jewel who still had her arm wrapped around Di’s waist, then quickly moved on, his jaw tight.

  “I hope Slade wasn’t playing us,” Jewel murmured. “He better not be luring my ol’ man in there so the Warriors can take him out. I don’t like D risking his life like that. He already got shot by Black Jack. He was lucky that time. He might not be so lucky this time.”