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Slate

“P lan to kill Jaelynn like the others?” Slate demanded. It hurt to breathe, and he was trying to save his strength.

“What are you talking about? That’s just bullshit to stop Jaelynn from being with me,” Damien spat.

“Bodies have been dropping ever since you arrived in town,” Slate stated.

“Stop lying!” Damien screeched. “That’s fucking lies you told Jaelynn to turn her against me!”

“Nah, dude. I don’t need to turn Jaelynn against you. You already did!” Slate pushed.

“Shut up!”

“No way. Jaelynn doesn’t love you. You killed that,” Slate insisted. “No woman will love a man who beats her and gaslights her like you do. Jaelynn escaped you once; she’ll do it again.”

Damien whipped a gun out and waved it at Slate. “Maybe I should shoot you, and she’ll have nowhere to go.”

“Jaelynn’s has a huge fuckin’ family behind her. Kill me, and Rage’ll come for her. Jaelynn belongs to the club. You fucked it, buddy. What an asshole. You had gold in your hands, and you tarnished it. Betrayed and destroyed it. Jaelynn worshipped you, but you had to try and break her. Guess what? Jaelynn’s got steel in her. You can’t ruin her,” Slate continued. “And now she knows you’re a serial killer? Jaelynn will look to escape constantly. Eventually, she’ll ensure a bullet ends up in your head.

“Shut the fuck up!” Damien screeched and pistol-whipped Slate.

Slate’s head shot to one side from the force of the blow, and he spat blood on the floor. He looked up and smirked at Damien. “Jaelynn loves me,” Slate slurred and grinned.

Damien lost his temper and took it out on Slate. Good, that meant he’d be all the more tired when Jaelynn arrived.

Jaelynn

Haphazardly, I parked up and scrambled from the car. The painkillers were wearing off, and I was starting to feel the aches and pains in my body. Scared, I gazed at the house in front of me and was slightly puzzled. This was where Damien was staying? This appeared to be an elderly couple’s dwelling.

Shrugging, I walked up to the door and knocked. It opened from the force of my knock.

“Damien?”

“Come in, baby!” Damien crowed.

Cautiously, I entered, alert for any movement. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs, Jaelynn, come on,” Damien cooed.

Ignoring the pain in my body, I walked up the stairs slowly. At the top, I saw three doors and headed to the one in front of me, which was open. There was a strange smell up here.

“There you are,” Damien cackled and rushed me. He scooped me up in a hug and squeezed me before placing me back on my feet.

Damien gazed into my eyes as he cupped my face. A smile crossed his lips, and he bent his head and kissed me. I became stiff in Damien’s arms and refused to respond, even though I knew what would happen. Damien lifted his head, looking confused.

“Where’s Slate?” I demanded.

Damien shoved away. “What?”

“Where’s Slate? Damien, I said I’d give myself up for Slate’s freedom. I’m here, so let him go,” I ordered.

“Are you serious? Jaelynn, stop these games,” Damien snapped.

“Damien, I’m not here of my own free will. You tortured Slate to get me here. I’m not the asshole playing games, you are,” I retorted.

Damien did exactly as I expected. His open hand slapped me across my cheek, and I fell to the floor with the force of it. Instantly, I curled into a ball and protected the back of my neck.

Words spilled from behind me. “Told ya, what woman would desire someone like you? A sick fuck who can only beat them.”

Slate!

Hopeful, I rolled over and gasped. Slate’s face was all bruised and swollen and his eyes were swelling. His lip had been split, and there were bruises all over his torso. Slate was seriously hurt.

“No!” I cried. “You’re a fucking monster!”

“Shut up,” Damien snarled, dropping his mask.

“There it is, the evilness,” I shot back and scooted away. With a nasty smile, I dragged out my weapon and placed the knife against my neck.

Damien stopped.

“Jaelynn, what are you doing?” he asked calmly.

“Touch Slate again, and I’ll cut my throat.”

Damien’s eyes widened. “Careful, darling, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, see, Damien, this is what you do. One minute beating me and the next being all sweet. That’s abuse, plain and simple, and gaslighting. The truth is out. There’s a warrant for your arrest over your actions towards me. Those reports you buried? They’re out there now. Everyone knows. I didn’t have Munchausen’s Syndrome or anything else. You were a vile, miserable woman beater.

“Even Lewis and Lacey know. That doctor you terrified into leaving state. He’s given a statement, and so has several others. Your whole department is under investigation with IA. There is nothing left for you, Damien. Just give up.” I sighed.

“Jaelynn, I hope you’re lying,” Wade said, joining us suddenly.

“Nope. There’re even warrants out for your arrests in relation to the murders you committed,” I added.

“Never committed a fucking murder!” Damien screamed.

“Damien, I identified Lucy Rogers’ body!” I yelled back.

Damien reared back like I’d shot him. “What are you talking about?”

“Lucy. She was dumped behind the bar I worked in. She’d been beaten black and blue and raped like the other three victims. And Starla, the waitress who got away, she identified you,” I replied.

Damien shook his head. “Lucy is at home.”

“Nope, Lucy’s dead in a morgue,” I stated and held Damien’s eyes. “You’re not lying… you didn’t know.”

“If it’s not Damien…” Slate rasped; he shuddered, and his eyes closed. Was he unconscious?

“Then it was you!” I gasped, turning to Wade, who grinned.

“Not such a bimbo, Jaelynn. Yeah, it was me. Damien was so busy bullying everyone into ignoring what he was doing. I flew under the radar. They weren’t my first killings, babe. I have got at least twenty under my belt. It was quite funny when Damien and I were put on them. Of course, any evidence leading to me, I made disappear,” Wade crowed.

“Tell me you’re joking. That I’ve not been working with a serial killer,” Damien demanded in disbelief.

“Dude, you were the perfect cover. Everyone was more concerned about covering your ass than what I was doing,” Wade explained.

“Shit, what have you done?” Damien spat.

“Me? Nothing. See, what’s going to occur is you’re gonna attack me, and I’ll kill you in self-defence. But you’d have already killed Jaelynn there and this asshole. I’m then going to shoot myself with your weapon, and I’ll be a hero,” Wade said cockily.

“One problem. Your fingers got squashed in the panic room door,” I added.

“Yeah, bitch. But honey, I was there to get you safe from Damien. You simply panicked and locked me out. Everyone knows what Damien did. Jaelynn, you’re not exactly stable, you got scared and slammed the door on me. By the way, bitch, that cost me two fingers and fucking hurt. I was planning to make your death painful, starting with losing your own fingers.

“In light of the circumstances, I need someone to blame. And that’s you partner. Just think of it like this: we’ve saved each other’s asses a few times now, and this is your final hoorah. Your death is about to save me one last time. Of course, I’ll have to move states and change my killing methods. But there’s shit planted at your house which will identify you as the murderer. Trophies and so on.” Wade grinned.

“Not gonna happen. I’m not going down for your crimes! Asshole, I’m no serial killer!” Damien cried.

“Dude, everyone knows you beat the fuck out of Jaelynn. It’s not a huge leap for you to be a serial killer,” Wade said, laughing.

I gaped as Damien yanked a gun from his waist and raised it. There were two shots, and slowly, Damien turned to me and hit the floor. His head bore a bullet wound.

“You killed him!” I exclaimed as Wade cursed.

“The fucker shot me!” Wade snarled. “Actually, that goes in my favour. Well done, bro. I underestimated you. Stay where you are, Jaelynn.”

“Let us leave. We won’t say a word,” I swore.

“You should have come to me, Jaelynn. I’d have looked after you. Damien never appreciated what he had,” Wade announced wildly.

Damn, if Wade wasn’t bat-shit crazy.

“I’ll come with you, Wade. Let’s go right now. Leave Slate here, and we’ll flee,” I suggested.

“Sorry, babe, but that won’t fit into my storyline, will it? Nah, you got to die. Say goodbye, Jaelynn. You should have made better choices.”

Wade raised the gun, and I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a bang, and I jumped and waited for the pain. Seconds ticked past, and a strangled gasp left my lips. Had Wade shot Slate? I opened them and saw two huge men standing over Wade’s body.

“You should have shot him earlier,” the long-haired one snapped.

“You wanted his damn confession on tape,” the older man retorted. “Hey, baby girl. I’m Magic.”

“Slate…” I gasped.

“Yeah, let’s get him off this meat hook,” the first replied. He wore a cut that said President and Inglorious under it. On his back was a patch stating he was an Unwanted Bastard.

“Rage are on their way,” Magic spoke to me.

“Is he alive?” I whispered, crawling over to Slate. His chest rose up and down, and I tucked myself into his body. Slate was cold to the touch, and I looked for his clothes.

Magic handed me a long-sleeved tee, which I recognised as Slate’s, and I draped it over him. Then Inglorious gently placed Slate’s cut over him to help a little, too.

I curled into him and prayed for Slate to wake up.

Inglorious

Inglorious dialled Drake and let him know he was chasing a madman who insisted they were following this Jaelynn woman.

Drake asked how certain Inglorious was, and Inglorious honestly couldn’t give an answer. Drake agreed to send two Rage out but wouldn’t divert anyone else in case Magic was wrong.

Inglorious ground his teeth when they pulled over and watched the girl exit the car.

“Told ya,” Magic taunted.

It was her. Inglorious sent Magic a look and phoned Drake again.

“Wild and Cowboy are heading your way. I’ll alert the others,” Drake replied.

“We’re going in. If this guy’s a serial killer, then she’s in danger,” Inglorious said.

“Keep my people alive, Inglorious,” Drake ordered and cut the call.

Inglorious looked for Magic and raised his eyes to the heaven. The fuckin’ asshole had moved without him. “I’m gonna kill him!” he ground out and chased after Magic, keeping low to the floor.

Magic slipped through the entrance that Jaelynn had and was peering around with his head tilted as Inglorious entered.

“Upstairs,” Magic whispered, and Inglorious nodded.

He pulled his weapon and noticed Magic had already done so. Moving as quietly as they could, they followed. As they got near the top, they could see a door half open and voices coming from it.

“Bodies,” Magic muttered as he peered through an open door. An old couple lay slumped on the floor, and judging by the smell, they’d been there a few days. There were bullet holes in their heads.

“The owner’s, no doubt,” Inglorious murmured. He stared at the back of a man standing just inside a room and ranting.

“Record it,” Magic whispered, and Inglorious sent him a frown. “Do it.”

Inglorious cursed under his breath and yanked his cell out and began recording. His eyes widened as their target’s partner admitted to being the serial killer. And when this Wade motherfucker confessed his plan for Damien, they shrugged.

Let the dirty officer kill the other asshole.

Two shots rang out.

Magic burst into the room, and Inglorious followed. They’d fired at the same time and watched as the cop collapsed.

Inglorious swept the space and spotted the other cop dead. His gaze landed on a bruised female who had her eyes closed and then on Slate. Slate appeared to be in a bad way.

Swapping insults with Magic as he tried to charm Jaelynn, Inglorious lifted Slate down and checked for a pulse. He was relieved to find a steady throb, although Slate was badly hurt. He laid the big guy down as Jaelynn crawled over and curled into his body.

“Slate’s going to be alright,” Inglorious said softly.

“Is he? I’m so scared,” Jaelynn replied.

“Slate’s a fighter, sweet girl, he’s gonna be okay,” Inglorious agreed. He sat down next to Jaelyn and rubbed her back gently.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“I laid Slate’s bike down,” Jaelynn answered.

Inglorious listened as Jaelynn explained what went down, and he was shaking his head by the time she finished.

“Why do Rage and now Hellfire get all the special ones? I’d give my right nut sack for what they have,” he said.

Magic sneered. “Nasty, dude.”

“True, though. Rage and Hellfire are lucky bastards,” Inglorious responded.

“Ain’t they just,” Magic mumbled, and for a moment, Inglorious noticed the intense loneliness Magic felt. He shook it off as bike pipes roared outside, followed by sirens.

Then the sirens died.

“Inglorious!” a voice yelled, which he recognised as Wild.

“Up here, we got Slate!” he shouted back.

“Magic!” Ramirez bellowed, sounding irate.

“Aw, shit, do you think he spotted that teeny explosion?” Magic whined.

Inglorious shook his head. The entire Pennington County saw that damn blast. Magic’s idea of size needed adjustment.

Slate

Pressure on his side led him to discover a woman tucked into him. Not just anyone, but Jaelynn. She was curled up and had her arm across his stomach. Slate’s eyes blinked as he tried to focus, and movement caught his attention.

“About time you woke up,” Drake boomed.

“How long?” Slate croaked. His throat was dry, and he coughed to clear it.

“Here, it’s late, dude,” Drake said, holding up a glass of water with a straw.

Slate drank deeply.

“Update?” he asked finally.

“Winslow was the serial killer. Seems Barclay was innocent of that, at least. Barclay was killed by Winslow, who was shot by Magic and Inglorious. Jaelynn is fine and resting, although she’s meant to be in her own bed.”

“Why? What happened?” Slate questioned, alarmed.

Drake looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.

“Drake…” Slate demanded.

“She laid your bike down. There’s damage, not as bad as if she’d hit the road. She couldn’t stop, and we managed to get her on the grass before she lost control,” Drake explained, wincing.

“How bad is the damage?” Slate wondered.

“New paint job, and the engine’s fucked. Jaelynn did eighty in second gear all the way. Your bike was screaming, brother. Jett’s already shopping for another and hunting your design out,” Drake replied.

Slate flinched. He’d loved that bike.

“I didn’t mean it. Artemis showed me how to stop, but I couldn’t,” Jaelynn murmured from his side.

“Doesn’t matter. I can get another one,” Slate said and winced. He’d bought that cabin and didn’t really want to lay out for a new bike, but whatever. “Did the estate agent call to confirm my purchase?” Slate asked.

“Phoe’s on it. The sale went through. You just need to sign the final documents, and it’s yours,” Drake replied.

“Get her up here. I have to make sure Jaelynn has her cabin,” Slate insisted.

“That’s not important,” Jaelynn interrupted. “Making you better is.”

“I’m fine,” Slate answered, and actually, he felt pretty great.

“Because you are drugged up to the gills, brother. Once that shit starts to wear off, you’re going to know about it. Same as Jaelynn there.”

Jaelynn giggled. “We’re as bad as each other.”

“Artemis is pissed you gave her the slip,” Drake warned.

“Should I be worried?” Jaelynn asked.

“Yeah. But she’ll calm down,” Slate said to reassure Jaelynn. He noted she didn’t seem too bothered either way.

“Any other news?” Slate inquired.

“IA and the Feds are all over Barclays and Winslow’s shit. Winslow admitted to upwards of twenty murders in his state. They’re matching cold cases, and it’s disturbing. They’ve suspended the captain and half the state troopers so far. Her so-called friend Lewis is also being investigated, although consensus is he’s just a prick,” Drake replied.

“Fury?”

Drake winced.

“He’s three days out. Fangs are converging on spots, and local PDs are watching them, but they’re not doing anything. The cop’s hands are tied. Unless Fangs do something, they can’t arrest them,” Drake stated.

“And let me guess. Our dumb ass president is still refusing to believe South Dakota is under attack?”

“Yup. He’s refused all help and aid. The idiot has told Antony and Andrew they are drama queens and had them tossed from the White House,” Drake replied.

Slate hissed. That was a huge mistake on the president’s part. The senator and congressman were both highly popular, and people listened to them. They were known as straight shooters with no hidden agendas.

“National guard and Ellsworth?” Slate asked.

“Nothing. We’re on our own. Not even neighbouring PDs can help as they’re locking their own towns down.”

“So be it. Jaelynn needs to be on a plane,” Slate demanded.

“She’s leaving the day after tomorrow with those two huge assed dogs and her family. Phoe is flying with her. They’re the last ones out. The allies, families, Hawthorne women, everyone is gone who Fury could use as leverage. It’s only Phoe and Jaelynn left now. Even Jodie has gone, and Serenity is on a shoot,” Drake said.

“Tye, Carmine, and Harley?” Slate asked.

“They’re playing. They’re out of danger,” Drake replied, and Slate nodded.

“Can’t I stay?” Jaelynn whispered from his side.

Slate’s arm tightened around her. “Baby, I need to know you’re safe. I can’t concentrate with you here.”

“You might not be fighting, brother. Not unless Doc Paul says so. And don’t bother arguing. If Doc Paul says to put you on that flight, you’ll be on it,” Drake stated and folded his arms as Slate growled.

That didn’t make him happy.