Page 25 of The Gentleness of Rage

Slate laughed as he shoved a napkin under my nose. “Need me to hold you?”

“Yes!” I wailed and crawled into his lap. Slate’s chest kept moving as he chuckled again, and I thumped him lightly. That made him laugh even more. Eventually, I stopped wailing, and I warmed our cold dinners up. Luckily, it tasted just as good, and Slate certainly didn’t seem to care.

After dinner, Slate insisted on stacking the dishwasher and said he had to leave. He asked if he could come back tomorrow, and I agreed.

For some reason, I wasn’t frightened of Slate. Everything he spoke could be a lie, but there was a sincerity about Slate that was real. One that couldn’t be faked. What was even stranger was I’d not pried into his MC. Were they one percenter and dirty? Were they just a riding club? I honestly had no idea. But after the way they’d looked after me, they could be tying bad guys up and beating the shit out of them, and I wouldn’t care. They’d treated me kindly, and that’s all that mattered.

Slate

He spat in Royce’s face as his fist hit Royce’s side again. Slate remained silent despite Royce’s incessant chatter. That had stopped about a minute ago as Slate had broken his jaw, and all Royce could do was scream.

“What ya wanna do, brother?” Texas asked.

“All those girls chained up and raped. Drugged up, so they didn’t fight. You gotta have dropped some bodies,” Slate growled out.

“Ain’t disagreeing,” Drake agreed.

“Burn the fucker alive,” Slate said, and Ace’s eyes widened before a nasty grin crossed his face.

“Why the fuck not?” Ace replied. He turned to the prospects. “Leave, this isn’t for you to witness.”

“Veep—” Jared began.

“No. You’re too young. In a couple of years, yeah. Not now. Go,” Ace insisted. Harley, Christian, and Jared left. Grey remained.

“Ain’t no kid Ace,” Grey said.

“You were a Fed. You’re telling me this ain’t gonna go against the grain for you?” Ace demanded.

“You know how many women we saved? A drop in the fuckin’ ocean. Burn the bastard. Hell, I’ll throw him in,” Grey offered.

“That’s my boy,” Axel replied, and a meaty fist slapped Grey on the back and knocked him forward two steps.

“Sure on this?” Drake asked, studying Grey’s face.

“Drake, I ain’t no kid. I will sleep just fine at night,” Grey insisted and folded his arms.

“Slate, you, Grey, and Blaze, take Royce down and introduce him to our crematorium,” Drake ordered.

Slate grinned and lifted Royce off the hook he was dangling from. Grabbing his hair, Slate began dragging him from the room as Royce screamed and kicked. Blaze and Grey followed behind.

“I’ll clean up,” Ace said as Slate left.

Slate wasn’t too bothered. He had a scumbag to burn.

Despite Royce’s screams, Slate slept well that night. Not a single nightmare disturbed him.

???

Slate walked into the strip joint an hour before the meeting and nodded at Cayla, who was waiting.

“Slate,” she greeted as she carried two coffees over.

“Cayla, thanks for seeing me,” Slate said.

“I’m curious. We all noticed this weekend the club is under Rage MC now. The shit that happened with Royce won’t happen with Rage,” Cayla stated.

Slate tilted his head. “Who are you to say so?”

---