March 2023

Slate

S late was fuming. Tonight was not the fuckin’ night to pull a sickie. And what had two of the waitresses and a bartender done? Called in sick.

Did they think he was stupid? Slate knew damn well they had attended that concert they’d all been bitching about. They’d been refused the time off because it was a Friday.

Skylar, Ariel (the waitresses), and Hailee (the bartender) better live tonight up. Because when they strutted back in here tomorrow, they were fuckin’ fired. Nobody fucked Slate over on a Friday night.

The bar was packed, which was fantastic for business. However, it was rough when he was one of just two bartenders—and there were only two waitresses cleaning tables and taking orders.

The kid in the kitchen was frantically trying to clean glasses and get them back out for service. Slate had forced the cook to stick to fries and sandwiches.

Hunter had tried to help several times, but he was needed on the door. It seemed every fucker in Rapid City wanted to party tonight. Shotgun sent Slate a beleaguered look as he poured four whiskey shots, and Slate shook his head.

“Hunter’s called for back-up. There’s nobody available,” Slate shouted.

“Same with Chance. The guys are all out on jobs,” Shotgun replied.

“Ain’t we the lucky bastards,” Slate complained.

A brunette sitting on a stool cocked her head at their exchange, looking intrigued. Somehow, in this crush, she’d managed to get a seat, Slate noticed.

“Can’t even free Alexa up to help serve because she’s needed on the floor. Dulcie can’t cope on her own,” Slate grumbled.

“Those bitches are fired,” Shotgun griped.

Alexa strutted over and shoved through the crowd. “Four beers and two vodkas.”

“Gonna be ten minutes,” Slate replied, stressed.

The brunette faced Alexa and said something. Alexa looked surprised but nodded. The next thing, Alexa walked behind the bar and filled the order. The stranger grabbed the tray and headed out.

“What the fuck?” Shotgun muttered to Alexa.

“She offered to help, can’t say no. Look at this place,” Alexa retorted.

Slate lost sight of the pretty woman for a few minutes as he served drinks, and Alexa helped get the crush at the bar under control.

The girl popped back up. “I need two Jack Daniels, two beers, and four shots of tequila,” she announced.

“Who the hell are you?” Slate demanded, not getting her order.

“My name’s Jaelynn. I’ve done bartending in the past, but didn’t think you’d want me behind there. I thought I’d help you out with the orders and glass clearing,” she answered.

“In return for what?” Slate replied suspiciously.

“Nothing. Ain’t you heard of a helping hand? Can I have my order? Huh, your name’s Slate. That’s kind of funny,” she remarked and rattled her tray.

Slate kept an eye on her as he made the drinks and placed it on her tray. Why was his name amusing?

Jaelynn disappeared and returned on his left carrying a tray full of empties, which she took into the kitchen.

Slate hated to admit it, but thanks to Jaelynn, Alexa and Dulcie had managed to get a break. Jaelynn worked five hours and had her own fifteen-minute rest before Hunter began tossing patrons out at closing time.

Jaelynn grinned at the girls and then pulled out a wad of notes. To Slate’s surprise, she placed them in the tip jar and headed for the exit.

He hurried out after her, but by the time he reached the door where Hunter was tussling with a patron, Jaelynn had disappeared.

Had that really just happened? Jaelynn had worked a five-hour shift and not taken any sort of payment? And then handed over her tips for the girls? Slate searched the car lot for her, but she’d gone.

Shit, he’d not even said thanks. He looked around once more and palmed the back of his neck. Who the hell was she?

Saturday

Slate glared at the three women in front of him. None of them looked repentant, and Mac stood there with his arms folded. Pirate, Mac’s Macaw, sat on his shoulder, giving the ladies a beady eye too.

“We were sick!” Hailee insisted. Skylar and Ariel both nodded their heads, too.

“The same evening that concert happened, one that you’d all requested the day off for and had been denied?” Mac snapped.

“We had food poisoning,” Skylar replied.

“Do you really think we’re that stupid?” Slate demanded.

Hailee shrugged, and Slate’s temper rocketed. Not as quickly as Mac’s, though.

“Get your shit, you’re done,” he ordered.

Skylar and Ariel looked shocked. Hailee was angry.

“You can’t do that! It’s Saturday, we’re going to be slammed,” Skylar shrieked.

“I can do that, I’m the fuckin’ manager. Slate managed last night, and we’ll manage tonight. I do not need asshole cunts who put a damn concert before their job,” Mac hissed.

“I need this job!” Ariel cried, looking scared and worried. “It’s my full-time one, I don’t have any others.”

“Should have thought of that while you were prancing around at the concert. You didn’t give a stuff about needing the money then,” Slate stated.

“Mac, please. Give us another chance,” Skylar begged.

“Get your shit and leave before we put you out,” Mac said, his eyes narrowed.

“Fuck you. I can get a job bartending anywhere,” Hailee replied, picking up her bag and purse.

“Not when we blacklist you for being unreliable,” Mac retorted and walked Hailee out. Skylar and Ariel followed on their heels, still begging for a second chance, but neither Mac, Slate, nor Sunny, who was on from Hellfire tonight, backed down.

“Knew Chance was setting me up when he ordered me to help manage this fuckin’ place,” Sunny complained, but his grin belied his harsh words.

“We’re fucked,” Slate murmured.

“Looks it, bro,” Mac said, surveying the crowds already in the bar.

“Only Dulcie is on tonight. Alexa’s off, she had a family meal, which was authorised. I’ve called Starla and Lisa. Starla is out of state, and Lisa is ringing around to find a babysitter,” Slate explained. “The day girls can’t cover either.”

“Yeah, we’re really fucked,” Sunny muttered.

Within the hour, Mac and Slate were behind the bar while Sunny helped Dulcie take orders and clean tables. They’d agreed to take one-hour turns in helping Dulcie, but they were swamped. Once again, neither MC could send help, and they were on their own.

Slate was shocked when suddenly a brunette strolled past him carrying a stack of glasses. He tried to see her face, but someone moved into his path. The next glance he got off her was when she came back out of the kitchen holding a tray of food.

It was her! Jaelynn!

“Sunny!” Slate bellowed. Sunny glanced over, and Slate beckoned him.

“What’s up?” Sunny called.

“Take over for five,” Slate ordered, and headed out after Jaelynn.

He caught her as she was collecting a large stack of empties from a table. “Hey.”

“Oh, hi,” Jaelynn said with a smile. “You’re packed again.”

“You disappeared last night before I could talk to you,” Slate accused.

Jaelynn frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! I wanted to thank you and give you your tips back. Plus, some money for helping,” Slate answered.

“Don’t worry about that. After the day I had, it was nice to have something else to concentrate on,” Jaelynn replied, picking up the last glass.

She began heading to the kitchen with the full tray.

“Bad day?”

“Something like that. Anyway, it was a good diversion,” Jaelynn responded.

“So, what’s tonight?” he asked, holding her gaze as she stopped at the kitchen door.

Her brown eyes widened. “Another distraction,” Jaelynn answered with a warm smile and disappeared through the door.

Slate shook his head, unsure how to act. Except… he headed over to Fanatic on door duty.

“That brunette, don’t let her leave. I want to talk to her,” Slate ordered.

Fanatic twisted his head and followed Slate’s finger, pointing at Jaelynn.

“New waitress?” Fanatic asked with a frown.

“Maybe. But keep her here and call me if she tries to go before closing,” Slate said.

“Will do.”

Fanatic turned his attention to a group of people entering.

“Who the hell is that?” Mac demanded as Jaelynn waltzed past.

“Hey, Jaelynn!” Dulcie cried as she spotted her. “You helping again?”

“You’re slammed, honey, it won’t hurt to give you a hand,” Jaelynn replied.

Mac faced Slate and hitched an eyebrow. “Wanna explain something?” Mac muttered.

Slate quickly explained what had happened last night. Mac stared at Jaelynn for a few seconds.

“She didn’t ask for payment?” Mac asked.

“Nope. And even handed her tips over for Dulcie and Alexa. I split them into three and kept a third for Jaelynn, in case she ever turned up again,” Slate replied.

“Interesting,” Mac muttered.

Sunny was able to join them back behind the bar, and, to their surprise, Lisa made it in after finding a babysitter. With three bartenders and three waitresses, tonight wasn’t as pressured as the previous evening.

“Why are we so slammed?” Mac complained at one point.

“Fuck knows. But it was the same yesterday,” Slate replied.

He was thankful his stint at the bar was nearly done. He usually worked with Ezra at the landscaping company, but all Rage and Hellfire brothers worked a Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evening on a rota basis.

Mac rang the bell for closing time, and Slate kept an eye on Jaelynn. She cleared a few tables and then, like last night, handed over her tips and headed outside. Slate rushed out from behind the bar and grabbed her arm gently.

“Heading out?” he asked.

“Yeah, I have work in a few hours,” Jaelynn said, and Slate hated the expression that crossed her face. Jaelynn forced a smile and nodded at him. “Goodnight, Slate.”

“You don’t like your current job?” he questioned, catching her hand. He liked the way her slender fingers felt in his hand.

“Nope, but it pays, and a job is a job.”

“How about one here?” he offered.

For a moment, Jaelynn lit up, and then her shoulders slumped. “I’d love to accept, but can’t. Thank you. See you around sometime.”

Before he could stop her, Jaelynn followed a group out. Slate chased after her again, thinking this felt like déjà vu, and once again, lost her.

She pulled a disappearing act like Houdini.

“You lost her,” Fanatic stated.

“Yeah. Damn it!” Slate cursed.

“Good job I was already outside. She went to a car. I sent you a picture,” Fanatic said.

Slate checked his phone and slapped Fanatic hard on the back. “Thanks, kid!”

“Welcome, mate,” Fanatic mumbled before heading inside to clear the last few people out.

◆◆◆

“Who is she?” Davies asked.

“That’s what I want to know. Can you find her?” Slate replied.

“Sure. Do you need a dive doing on her?” Davies inquired.

“No, just find her for now. There was something in her eyes. Jaelynn was scared when I mentioned offering her a job,” Slate said.

“Okay, give me a few days.” “Davies? How’s McKenna?” Slate asked softly.

A long, drawn-out sigh was the sad response.

“She is not talking to anyone apart from Demi. She’s home, but her house is like Fort Knox by the time we got done with it. The problem is, McKenna’s been able to lock everyone out, and we can’t break in,” Davies stated.

“Shit. But she’s speaking to Demi?”

“Yes. For some reason, she can relate to her. McKenna’s cut Lina and Marissa out and refuses to see anyone,” Davies said. Slate could hear the pain in his voice.

“Give McKenna time. It’s only been a few months, and she spent a long time in hospital in the psych ward. That couldn’t have helped her,” Slate replied.

“We thought we were going to lose her. We still might have,” Davie murmured, his thoughts elsewhere. “Anyway. I’ll track your lady down.”

Davies cut the call before Slate could respond that Jaelynn wasn’t his woman.

Jaelynn – three days later.

“Are you just fucking stupid?” Royce screamed in my face. Spittle hit my cheek, and I wiped it away.

I cringed away from him. He was in a real mood tonight, and I was about to pay the price again. I needed another cash-in-hand job.

Royce shoved me.

I collided with the wall—hard—and my head slammed back, and I was momentarily dazzled.

“If Brice Jones wants your company, you fucking give it to him,” Royce snarled.

“I am not a dancer!” I cried.

“You’re what I say you are! If Brice demands you to suck cock, you’ll get on your knees and thank him for it!”

“No! I’m not a whore. You don’t tell me who to fuck. I quit Royce, screw this. I was the cloakroom girl, nothing else,” I shrieked.

Royce hauled back and slapped me.

“You hit like a bitch,” I sneered, recovering from the recoil.

“And you’re going to give Brice what he wants whether you like it or not.” Royce scowled and grabbed me by the hair.

He dragged me out of the office, and I struggled to free myself. I fought him all the way down the corridor as security turned a blind eye.

He kicked open a door, slung me inside, and sneered. “After Brice, I’m going to take a turn and then put you in my stable. See, bitch, cash in hand means you’re in hiding. Nobody’s gonna miss you,” Royce snarled and slammed the door shut.

Drake

“Is this Rage MC?” a female whispered.

“Yeah,” Drake replied.

“You don’t like women trafficking,” she murmured.

Drake sat up straight. “What the fuck?”

Those around him became alert at his tone.

“I work at a strip club. The girls are being forced to service the patrons if they demand it. But the cloakroom girl, she’s an innocent. Brice Jones has just ordered her, and she refused. They’re going to rape her and then drug her into prostitution. You need to help us,” the woman whispered.

“Call the cops,” Drake demanded.

“We can’t. There’s a dirty cop somewhere. You gotta save this girl.”

Drake began to speak, but she interrupted, giving an address and cut the line.

He looked around. “Mount up, we’ve got a job. Make sure you’re armed.”

“What is it?” Ace asked.

“Possible human trafficking,” Drake replied.

Scowls descended over the brothers who were present.

“Not in RC?” Gunner demanded.

“Outskirts. Strip joint on the I90. Jingle Jangles,” Drake said.

“Ain’t that Royce Ashton’s place?” Rock inquired.

“Yeah. And I know Ramirez has been trying to get information on him for ages. That place claims girls, losing them forever. And apparently, they’ve just taken another innocent. Brice Jones is involved,” Drake responded with a scowl.

“I’ll call James. He’s been chasing Jones for a while. Jones was pedalling shit in one of James’s clubs.” Gunner scowled.

“Roll out, kick doors in, and find this girl,” Drake replied.

Jaelynn

As soon as Royce left, I headed for the door and tried to open it. The asshole had locked it, and I was trapped.

I began searching the room, which held a high sofa, a table and a bed. The bed’s presence needed no explanation. How many girls had been assaulted here? I shied away from the question and checked everywhere, looking for a weapon.

I found nothing. Absolutely zilch.

Squeeze his balls hard and twist, the advice floated in my mind. An old school friend had drummed that wisdom into my head. That was my plan. Be sweet and nice and then grab his nuts and rip those fuckers off. I could do that.

I sat on the sofa, watching the door. Minutes ticked past, and I grew more nervous and edgy.

Panic welled in my stomach, and I was sweating in fear. At least an hour passed before the door opened. I cringed back when two bulky men entered. Behind them came the short man, Brice Jones, who’d propositioned me in the first place.

There was a smarmy, self-satisfied look on Brice’s face. “I told you nobody says no to me, bitch.”

I took in his suit, his open shirt with a gold medallion, and his ornate wristwatch. Brice could not have been taller than five foot six.

“No. No. No. I say no. This is rape, end of story. You couldn’t pull me on your own, you have to force me. Some man you are,” I snapped as my nerves overspilled.

So much for sweet.

Brice scowled and motioned to the two guys next to him. “Strip her and pin her down face first.”

The men moved forward, and I jumped up and raced around the rear of the sofa. Brice chuckled as each guy took one end.

Panic-stricken, I flinched as one seized me, and I screamed. He slapped me, and I grabbed his balls and twisted them as hard as I could. His scream matched my previous one.

Brice’s eyes opened wide, and he gazed in surprise as his bodyguard collapsed. The other guard caught me from behind and dragged me over to the table.

I kicked, clawed, and yelled as he shoved me over it and pinned my arms down. The other man groaned and rolled around the floor.

“You’re gonna pay for that bitch,” the guard said, slamming my head on the table.

I kept fighting even though I was dazed. My head slammed a second time, but I continued screaming.

Hands were at my hips, yanking my uniform shorts and panties down. My legs were kicked open, and a hand rubbed between my thighs, and then my pussy was roughly grabbed. I kicked backwards and connected with a shin, and Brice swore.

“Hold that bitch down!” he howled.

“Let me the fuck go!” I yelled. I screamed again as I felt a cock placed between my thighs. In horror, I bucked as Brice sought my entrance.

Then the door was kicked open, and moments later, Brice was yanked off me.

The bodyguard was ripped from me, and I stumbled away from whatever was happening. I tripped over my shorts, which were hanging on one leg, and gazed up into the horrified eyes of Slate.