Page 78 of The Gentleness of Rage

Magic sneered. “Nasty, dude.”

“True, though. Rage and Hellfire are lucky bastards,” Inglorious responded.

“Ain’t they just,” Magic mumbled, and for a moment, Inglorious noticed the intense loneliness Magic felt. He shook it off as bike pipes roared outside, followed by sirens.

Then the sirens died.

“Inglorious!” a voice yelled, which he recognised as Wild.

“Up here, we got Slate!” he shouted back.

“Magic!” Ramirez bellowed, sounding irate.

“Aw, shit, do you think he spotted that teeny explosion?” Magic whined.

Inglorious shook his head. The entire Pennington County saw that damn blast. Magic’s idea of size needed adjustment.

Slate

Pressure on his side led him to discover a woman tucked into him. Not just anyone, but Jaelynn. She was curled up and had her arm across his stomach. Slate’s eyes blinked as he tried to focus, and movement caught his attention.

“About time you woke up,” Drake boomed.

“How long?” Slate croaked. His throat was dry, and he coughed to clear it.

“Here, it’s late, dude,” Drake said, holding up a glass of water with a straw.

Slate drank deeply.

“Update?” he asked finally.

“Winslow was the serial killer. Seems Barclay was innocent of that, at least. Barclay was killed by Winslow, who was shot by Magic and Inglorious. Jaelynn is fine and resting, although she’s meant to be in her own bed.”

“Why? What happened?” Slate questioned, alarmed.

Drake looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.

“Drake…” Slate demanded.

“She laid your bike down. There’s damage, not as bad as if she’d hit the road. She couldn’t stop, and we managed to get her on the grass before she lost control,” Drake explained, wincing.

“How bad is the damage?” Slate wondered.

“New paint job, and the engine’s fucked. Jaelynn did eighty in second gear all the way. Your bike was screaming, brother. Jett’s already shopping for another and hunting your design out,” Drake replied.

Slate flinched. He’d loved that bike.

“I didn’t mean it. Artemis showed me how to stop, but I couldn’t,” Jaelynn murmured from his side.

“Doesn’t matter. I can get another one,” Slate said and winced. He’d bought that cabin and didn’t really want to lay out for a new bike, but whatever. “Did the estate agent call to confirm my purchase?” Slate asked.

“Phoe’s on it. The sale went through. You just need to sign the final documents, and it’s yours,” Drake replied.

“Get her up here. I have to make sure Jaelynn has her cabin,” Slate insisted.

“That’s not important,” Jaelynn interrupted. “Making you better is.”

“I’m fine,” Slate answered, and actually, he felt pretty great.

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