Page 8 of The Gentleness of Rage

The girl was screaming and putting up a fight, but she was on the losing end.

Gunner flew into the room and punched the man holding her. They began trading blows while Drake ripped the bare-assed rapist away.

Terrified brown eyes met Slate’s.

“Jaelynn!” Slate bellowed, recognising the petrified woman staring at him.

Jaelynn leapt up from the table where she’d been pinned and stumbled over her shorts. In a matter of moments, Slate took in the fact she was naked from the bottom down and that Brice had his cock out. A roar left his mouth, and Slate barrelled past Ace and knocked Brice straight out of Drake’s hands. Slate wordlessly began beating the shit out of him, his fist raising and falling like a piston.

“Slate! Slate! Stop,” Drake ordered, grabbing Slate’s arm. Drake yanked Slate backwards, and he tore himself free, determined to go back after Brice.

“The girl needs you!” Drake yelled in Slate’s face.

Slate paused and blinked. “Jaelynn?”

“Yeah. Jaelynn, she needs you,” Drake repeated.

Slate spun on his ass and noticed Jaelynn curled in a ball in the corner. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and she was shaking all over. Jaelynn’s terrified eyes latched on to Slate, and he cursed before crawling over to her on his knees.

Jaelynn whimpered and cringed back even further. Slate saw the fight had gone out of her, and shock and terror were setting in.

“Baby, it’s Slate,” he whispered. He spun and sat on his ass in front of her, drew his legs up like hers, and wrapped his arms around his own knees.

Jaelynn let out a mournful sound, which reminded Slate of a wounded animal. Slate didn’t rush her, knowing any quick movement would frighten her.

“Babe, I have your tips from the other night. You left them again,” Slate murmured, and Jaelynn tipped her head and blinked.

“Honey, you worked your ass off. The girls were overwhelmed by your help and then your generosity at giving them your tips. They insisted on sharing them,” Slate continued.

“They were hurting me,” Jaelynn whispered, nodding at Brice, who lie on the floor groaning.

Brice and his two bodyguards were in a heap in the corner, with Gunner and Mac standing over them. Every so often, Mac kicked one of them in the ribs.

“They’ll never hurt another woman,” Slate promised.

“Royce has been forcing women to do things, I think,” Jaelyn added.

“Agreed. And Royce won’t ever touch a girl again. Or force her into shit. Baby, it’s killing me, will you come here and let me dress you?” Slate lowered his voice to a begging tone.

Jaelynn flinched back. “I can’t move. Everyone will see me.”

“Turn your backs,” Slate ordered. He spun on his ass and faced away from Jaelynn. His brothers did the same. He heard movement behind him and waited patiently.

“I’m dressed,” Jaelynn finally said.

Slate turned and opened his legs. He patted the floor in front of him. “Come here, baby, you need a hug.”

Slate hurt when Jaelynn eyed him suspiciously, and as she stared at the large men in the room all glowering, she scooted straight into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and Jaelynn fisted his tee before bursting into tears.

Slate ground his teeth together as he rubbed her back. He heard voices and glanced up as James Washington appeared. By his side were Adam, Jaime, and Jason. All four looked serious.

James took in the scene.

“Brice Jones.” He nodded. “I owe you one, Drake. Adam, Jaime, take that piece of shit and his two sidekicks out,” James said. His eyes were narrowed on Brice, who was awake and paling rapidly as he spotted James.

“You thought you’d sell in my clubs? Peddle your crap on my turf? I might be out of the game, but you made a mistake. I’m not a good guy,” James warned.

Jaelynn had stopped crying; Slate noticed as she watched James Washington out of the corner of her eye.

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