Page 78 of Vengeful Mates

Slade’s hands remained firm on my hips as he breathed hard, holding me steady, nuzzling my neck with heated kisses and nips. I rubbed the sheen of sweat on his chest and neck.

Castor laced his arms around my shoulders, leaning my back flush against his front, crushing me between their bodies in a sticky, slick mess.

Alaric and Zethan sealed our circle, huddling around me, arms cradling my other two men. We stayed like that, panting until we caught our breath and lessened the chances of our hearts giving out from overuse.

“Now, we’re gonna do that again and again, sugar.” Slade spanked my ass to drive in his command. “We have all night. No kid to interrupt and cockblock. No absolution for you, just pure punishment.”

CHAPTER26

Slade

Trigger warning:violent torture and death.

Last night’sgood mood from our new allegiance to annihilate Raine and the incredible fucking hot sex session afterward soured as Zethan and I rolled up to the Bathurst Courthouse for a bail hearing for my arrested men. I parked my Range Rover and Zethan his Jeep across the street, and marched, over ready for war.

Bloodlust to eliminate the traitorous cancer ruining my club leaped on my tongue. Set’s need to destroy burned from red to white-hot, actions that normally put me in a fan-fucking-tastic mood. The hell this treacherous cunt, the cops, Danny Heller, and that motherfucker Raine put me through wore me down. This general neared his final battle, his legacy. Retirement beckoned and I wanted to live in peace with his family, old lady, and kid for once.

Two detectives strolled inside, smirking at me, and I gave them afuck you, eat shitgrin. Bogus charges since the cops found nothing. They confiscated the van and stripped it, searching for any sign of drugs. Castor scanned every report made and the cops found jack shit against us. Charges a judge would dismiss at an initial hearing.

Watching those two cunts enter the courthouse, my resentment lightened when I remembered the way my woman handled the corrupt cops, lacing their minds with demons they’d never exorcise. Fuck, my woman had a vicious heart when backed into a corner. The lengths she would go to in order to protect her child, family, and men made me love her even more. She would fight beside me in this war and end it with me.

Thinking about how fucking amazing my old lady was warmed away the cold, dark shadow hanging over me at performing the next task. The club better not suffer more fallout and fucking drama over this latest bullshit.

Barry, the club’s lawyer, waited for us by the steps leading into the courthouse, his immaculate navy suit pressed, grey tie tight, clutching his damn initialed leather briefcase. He smelled like a predator on the hunt for blood, flesh, and bone. Just like me.

“Barry, been a while.” I outstretched my hand, grateful for his help, for the asshole he’d tear inside the courtroom. “Thanks for coming down and representing us.”

We needed him since Castor went black on the legal radar after faking his death to escape the Triad.

Barry shook my hand, grip mean and cunning, fueling my dark need to ruin. “I never back down from a fight, Mr. Vincent.”

Neither did I. A feral smile, hungry for death and destruction, crept up on my face, brightening away the last of my earlier sourness. This general almost crushed every enemy in his way, and with one to go, I looked forward to the rewarding end of this nightmare and smooth fucking sailing after that.

“Zethan,” Barry greeted my enforcer. “Rare to see you two together.”

Perceptive, this one, picking up that Zethan and I were in the same place at the same time.

“Long story, Barry.” I sliced through any chance of explanation.

“I imagine you’ve had many of those lately.” It came out a statement rather than a question, and I was happy that he didn’t pry, regardless of the client-solicitor privilege.

Destruction thundered in my veins, seeking a release. Time to get Barry in front of the judge to do what he did best.

“Work your dark, fucking magick, Barry.” The War god protested at my gesture for my solicitor to take the lead when the general always led his army. Fuck it. Letting my soldier lob a fucking bomb into the courthouse and watch the chaos and fire unfurl satisfied the dark and destructive urges in me.

Inside the bullshit excuse of a justice institution, Barry argued convincingly for all charges against my men to be dropped. Based on the evidence, which was weak and circumstantial, Magistrate Kernan dismissed the charges without prejudice and warned the cops to stop harassing the Jackals’ Wrath Motorcycle Club. Barry threw in one last threat to lodge another complaint and for this one to stick. Asses handed to them, the two detective cunts stumbled out of the courtroom with their heads hanging low.

Bailiffs removed the shackles on Brix, Pitbull, Benny, Dusty, and Chev, and took them away for release processing and to collect their belongings.

Zethan, Barry, and I waited at my Range Rover and Zethan’s Jeep for our men to assemble, and we’d drive them home. When they strolled outside, all sweat, exhaustion, and relief, I thanked Barry and ordered them into the vehicles.

I dropped off three brothers at their houses for a shower, some food, and with strict orders to meet back in the clubhouse in an hour for a debrief and emergency church meeting

Zethan and I met Castor and Alaric beforehand, getting everything we needed to know to grill the arrested fuckers and find the mole.

One and a half hours later, club management, Pitbull, Benny, Dusty, and Chev sat around the church table, drinking beer. I kept checking my Tag Heuer for the tenth time, my temper scaling at Brix’s audacity to come in late as fucking usual.

My pulse stormed in my ear as the cunt strolled in like it was no big deal. “Why are you late, asshole?”

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