Page 15 of Sinful Mates

Pressure on my chest stifled my breaths. I wasn’t losing another mate to poor decisions, bad relations with other clubs, and deals gone awry. Aaliyah was the most precious thing to me. Slade needed to recognize there was more to life than just the club. We were bad men and didn’t deserve another mate, yet fate, the gods, gave us another chance. A gift to cherish and honor for as long as we were alive to do so.

Slade and Alaric had a lot to make up for, hurting her the way they did. Slade, for the sake of pride and power. Alaric, for his position in the club. That was their and Aaliyah’s business and I was staying out of it when I had enough of my own shit to deal with.

My mind traveled back to the present.

My president scrubbed his drawn face and sighed as if the motion solved all his problems. Too many problems weighing him down. Last night with Mia didn’t help. Lots of shouting, hollering, and games to liven the mood. More like burying our torment under the guise of family. A restless night for all of us, by the shadows darkening his eyes and cheeks.

“Thanks for coming.” His voice came out a harsh crack, like the tectonic plates breaking about to shake the club’s foundations. “The last week has been sleepless and thankless, and I want to commend everyone for their efforts in defending the club against the Wolves.”

Several howls went around the room. Taking down our enemy eased tensions since we acquired new territory to expand our club. Good news on one front.

Aaliyah went thankless for killing the main player in our problems and that pissed me off to no end. Ungrateful pricks rejected all her effort. A slight Slade would make them pay for, his quest for vengeance against the avatar and to defend his mate’s honor like molten steel in his blood.

He gripped the edges of the rectangular church table, the cords in his neck flexing with suppressed rage. “I also want to thank you for rescuing the trafficked women. Twice.” The last part came out a growl. Sore fucking topic.

I hoped he didn’t make a scene about this, or he’d look like he took Aaliyah’s side. A choice he thought he couldn’t afford with tensions brimming throughout the members. Where I brought heat on the club, she was a pawn in her brother’s war, yet the club held it against her. As her mate, Slade should have made the men see reason, rather than cower to rules and cling to power. The guy was the avatar of War and could crush dissent for fuck’s sake.

Alaric sat back, observing the room, always vigilant, always on edge. Though today, he seemed lighter, freer, like a weight was lifted. The burden on his shoulders was now passed to me. His blunt nails tapped an unopened beer bottle. Everyone in the place had alcohol, not a man left dry.

Castor patted my back and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. We watched out for each other. Worked behind the scenes to keep Slade in line and secure the club from harm. Made sure our woman was safe and supported. Having him on my side eased my mind.

“Now comes the shitty part.” Slade sucked in a long, ragged breath. “Amid our triumphs, we’ve had some major setbacks that brought the club a lot of risk and heat. The cops are watching our every move and we can’t afford to get sloppy or destructive.”

Deadly silence fell on the room, not a breath in the place. Quiet as the goddamn Underworld. The air charged with hostility that crackled against my skin. Rejection slithered along my bond.

“One club member recently disobeyed several orders and brought more unwanted attention to us, and I can’t let that go unpunished.” Brutal. Cruel. Merciless. Slade and I were the same in that regard. While he’d kill every fucker in the room in the space of a heartbeat if it meant he stayed in power, I played the strategic game. Fear only went so far before a bullet pierced his skull.

All eyes went to me. Burning. Judging. I kept my gaze straight on Slade. Hard. Emotionless. The face I brought to weekly judgments in the Duat.

I didn’t hold it against my president for what he did. Expected it, even. Punishment to fit the crime. Now the club decided my fate and he got off the hook with Aaliyah. Smart move to avoid being portrayed as the bad guy. What I would do in his shoes. Selfishness engulfed the ray of light Aaliyah unleashed in my heart, my motivations to rescue Mia as complicated as Slade’s. Love and virtue primarily lead me to that decision, but a dark part desperate for salvation from my sins steered me, and my conscience weighed heavy from it.

Slade’s massive shoulders twitched with the desire to bust a few noses. “A few men have called for this member’s excommunication. Bullshit.” His fist came down on the table and it rattled along with my ribcage. Tired. Irritable. Backed into a corner. “Everyone deserves a second chance, and that includes a man who’s served this club since he was a teenager, completing his duties without fault, who works his ass off to keep this club afloat and operating.”

Gratitude warmed my frozen, inky blood, flushing it red. Fuck. I didn’t expect that. Figured Slade would toss me to the wolves, and let them eat my bloodied carcass.

Nods went around the room. Blurred faces in my peripheral. Paralyzed, my gaze stuck to Slade when my life, my future, my career depended on him. If things with the club went pear-shaped, I had the shelter to turn to, but it wouldn’t be the same. Brotherhood, loyalty, and family became staples in my life.

Slade threw back his whisky like he needed the liquid to dislodge the sand in his throat. “I propose to demote this member.” Let him lead without me. See how far he got without burning the fucking clubhouse down again. “But I’m handing it over to the club to decide this man’s fate.”

Glances and murmurs jumped around the room, the air heavy with uncertainty and disagreement.

The president never said my name. Didn’t publicly shame me. Didn’t look my way. Satisfaction pumped more warmth into me. Remorse gnawed at his chest like a damn cancer. For our friendship, our woman, the club. The space between us electrified with bitterness. Words unspoken. Plans for the club’s future and the future of our relationship burned to ash.

“All those in favor of demoting this member, say Aye.” The president’s voice lost its usual fire, dipping into the negative temperatures. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to lose me as his right-hand man. His calm to his storm. Rules were rules, and even the formidable Slade Vincent must follow them. Unless he chose to break them as he broke real world rules.

Half the hands in the room went up, including Brix’s and his two groupies’. Four uncertain votes. Alaric and Castor kept theirs down, which relieved me to have their backing. Slade kept his decision under wraps. Desire to punish me bubbled beneath his skin but he never wanted it to end this way. I had Brix to thank for that.

Prick.

Slade grunted. “All those in favor of another punishment.”

Three hands went up, Brix and his two fucking parrots again. The bond burned up with Slade’s annoyance.

There was no way he would have been able to do this in front of Aaliyah. Their last disagreement over me nearly broke him. He thought he lost her. Still did. Heavy footsteps on very thin, precarious ice. He had to be careful how he handled it.

Aaliyah and I barely spoke about this topic, and I didn’t plan to. This wasn’t her fault and I refused to drag her into it and make her feel guilty for it. Blame for killing the cops rested on my shoulders, just like my decision to go with her and save Mia. To my dying breath I would defend them.

Slade slammed his gavel on the table, his indigo eyes darkening like blades of death. The decision was made. Demotion. My ass saved. I should be happy, but my heart stopped beating and everything died inside of me. Lifeless, like a soul in the Underworld. Separated from my heart, mind, and body. Souls in the Underworld suffered more for less.

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