Page 68 of The Gentleness of Rage

There was a wet room downstairs too; it would be perfect for cleaning the dogs after a muddy walk. And finally, there was a sunroom designed to entrap maximum sunlight. The doors folded back and led to a porch and a fenced-in rear yard. It looked like the previous owners had already owned dogs.

I turned to Slate with a grin as he waved from the top of the steps. The entire thing was perfect. Hell, I’d never want to leave. I jogged up the stairs and joined Slate at the front. He wrapped his arms around me as I took in the view.

“Well?”

“It’s stunning,” I exclaimed.

“Good job that my offer was accepted. I’m paying cash, and in forty-eight hours, this’ll be ours. I’m providing an incentive for it to be rushed through. If anything happens to me—”

“No!” I snapped.

“Jaelynn, I’ve updated my will. Everything comes to you. Baby, I need to know you are okay. You and the dogs need to move in here should I not make it,” Slate insisted.

“This wouldn’t be the same without you,” I replied, choking back tears.

“I love you. If I hadn’t secured your future, I’d be distracted in the upcoming fight. This way, I know you’re looked after if anything happens to me,” Slate stated, squeezing me and resting his chin on my head.

“How sweet,” a voice sneered, and I stiffened. Damien came waltzing out of the trees, holding a gun on us.

“Damien!” I cried and grabbed Slate’s tee.

Slate slipped something into my pocket.

“He’s going to separate us. You get a chance, gouge his eyes out,” Slate murmured, and I realised he’d put his bike keys in my pocket.

“Move away from my woman,” Damien said, motioning with the weapon.

I clutched Slate tighter, and Damien cocked the gun. Instantly, I released Slate and stepped aside.

“Come here, Jaelynn,” Damien ordered.

“No! I left you. Why can’t you leave me alone!?” I screamed. Tension built inside of me, and I was scared.

“You belong to me. You don’t leave me! I say when we’re done,” Damien yelled.

“Nobody owns a person, Damien. Not now. All you did was make my life a misery, I don’t love you,” I shouted.

“I don’t give a fuck if you love me or not. You’re mine, Jaelynn, and not this biker’s,” Damien yelled. “Get your ass here before I shoot him.”

“Don’t!” I cried, leaping down the steps.

Damien looked triumphant. “Get here. We’re going home,” Damien said to me.

“My home is here. This is kidnapping and abuse. Whatever you intend to do won’t work,” I hissed.

Damien fired his gun, and I screamed as I turned to Slate. That put me within reach of Damien.

Slate remained standing, and I guessed Damien had discharged a warning bullet.

“You can’t hold Jaelynn, Barclay. The truth is out there. Same as those murders. The Feds are looking for you,” Slate called. “Let Jaelynn go, man, and give yourself in peacefully.”

“What fuckin’ murders?” Damien yelled.

I grabbed Slate’s key as Damien hauled me in close.

Damien pulled me backwards, and that was when I acted.

I elbowed Damien in the gut and lashed out with the keys in my hand. Damien shouted and let go of me, and I kicked his shin.

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