Page 29 of Vengeful Mates

“Anyone got any ideas?” Slade’s gaze panned the three of us and landed on his enforcer. “Dash?” Best way to test our new brothers and see what they were made of.

“We’ve got a few cars we want to write off, if you want to use them in fake accidents.” Dash impressed me with his subversion skills. “Call them in on the triple zero emergency line, and you’ll get at least three to four cop vehicles at the scene of the accident.”

Great idea. I was already behind it. Dash was a natural at his role, thinking like a president. Slade’s respect and approval warmed the bond.

“Do it on a highway or major road,” Dash went on, “and they’ll need more men to block off access roads and divert traffic while the cars get towed. You could tie them up for a good two hours, at least.”

Slade clapped his palms together, thrilled with his new man. “That’s fucking brilliant. Alaric, get me possible roads this would work on.”

“Roger that, President.” I smiled, already liking the way Dash’s mind worked. We needed clever men like this on our team, especially if they were going to take over the responsibility of delivering our drugs.

As road captain, it was my duty to oversee plans and routes for runs like this, and I’d need to train the new chapter on the process for the first few. Run an eye over things, give them advice, and accompany them, scouting for any problems. Then let them take the wheel when they performed well and felt confident enough to do it alone. From what I heard already, Dash and his team wouldn’t need much coaching, making my job a hell of a lot easier. Win-win, in my books.

Tension coiled on the bond as Slade’s gaze drifted to his enforcer. “Zethan, you’ve been quiet. Your input would be valuable.”

Until their disagreement, Zethan always offered his opinion. These days, he kept it to himself, only speaking when asked for guidance, forcing Slade to ask to keep the connection open.

It hurt my heart that my brothers fell out because of a poor decision but I understood where they both came from. Slade had an obligation to his men as well as his woman, and the club’s vote put him in a difficult spot. Zethan’s past prompted him to put Aaliyah first, which technically violated club law. Something we might have to amend to appease all parties.

On our trip to Sydney to scope out Colton, Zethan took the first step to mend the rift between them, pledging to fix the damage he caused to his reputation and the club. Catching and eliminating Raine put him one step closer to rebuilding the club’s respect and trust.

Aaliyah, Castor and I were both thrilled and relieved that Zethan bridged the gap, but we stayed out of it, letting them sort it out. My mate hated being stuck in the middle of them, right in a damn war zone, taking hits for attempting to heal the fractured friendship.

“I think Dash had some pretty solid ideas.” Zethan twisted the Jackals ring on his finger, and renewed drive sparked on the bond. “My only other suggestion is to set a trap for the rat.”

One hundred percent agreed.

Slade leaned back and lit a cigarette. “Sounds like we have an airtight plan, gentlemen.” His eyes tipped to me as he blew out a plume of smoke fashioned into dollar signs. “Dash, I’ll send Alaric down on Thursday to run through the plans and route with you and your road captain.”

“Got it, Slade.” He paused. “Fuck, I mean, President.” He wasn’t used to speaking to a higher authority when he was the leader of his club.

“Talk soon, brother.” Slade didn’t take offense… at least this time… and hung up the line, pocketing his phone. “What do you think?” He eyed us for input.

“Kid’s impressive.” Castor nodded.

“Agreed.” Zethan stood, still as stone.

Slade’s eyes came to me.

“He’s got good instincts,” I added.

Slade linked his fingers and curled them behind his head, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, he does. I think he’s gonna be good for us.”

A consensus shared between the avatars by the look of it. Time would tell how our new members fit into the club. Hell, we deserved good luck for once.

Finished with that issue, Slade waved us away. “Dismissed.”

Castor and Zethan made themselves scarce while I stayed behind, needing to speak with my president.

Slade polished off the rest of his whisky in a lighter mood on the bond than the dark one Castor introduced with his bad news. “What’s up?”

I stood with my arms behind my back, chin straight, eyes on the window behind Slade. “I wanna get back to full-time duty.”

“Not until Aaliyah clears it medically,” Slade replied like a judge slamming a gavel.

These days, he ran pretty much everything past our mate. That meant it was a yes from him.

One night while we star gazed, Aaliyah confided to me that she appreciated Slade keeping her in the loop with some club matters, admitting she felt connected, trusted, and valued. It was what partners did.

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