Page 21 of Taming the Bad Boy

Before I can reply, he’s speeding away, his bike roaring and tires screeching against the pavement as he disappears down the street.

My mind whirls. The world begins to crumble around me.

And something inside me snaps.

My chest is tense, my pulse hammering so hard that I can feel it in my teeth. I hear the sound of Slate’s engine fading into the distance, and with it, the trust I had placed in him and was so sure of moments ago.

Today was supposed to be the day we stopped hiding. He was supposed to stand here beside me while we told my dad the truth–that Slate was no longer a Heartless Bastard. ThatI belonged to him now, and that he would devote his life to protecting me.

But he just left. No explanation other than he’d “fix this.”

Fix what?

Dad’s words sink into me like rusty nails, driving heavy doubt into my chest like old iron sinking into deep water.“Your boy here already knew.”

No.

No, that can’t be right.

Slate wouldn’t lie to me. He wouldn’t betray me. He wouldn’t crash into my life like a wonderful storm, swearing he loved me, just to tear the floor out from under my feet.

Right…?

I gave my virginity to him, for God’s sake. But I can’t stop thinking about the way he stood there with his eyes down and jaw clenched tight. The way his whole body was tight like he actually was expecting this.

Like maybe he…deserved it.

A sick feeling twists in my stomach, and I’m hit with a wave of nausea. I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to doubt him. Ilovehim. But the truth is, I just can’t know.

Dad’s still muttering curses under his breath as he moves around the shop, examining the wreckage. I want to help out, but when Dad gets like this, it’s best to just give him his space. So I head to the office to make sure it didn’t get trashed too.

Thankfully, things look okay. I’m just about to leave when I see an old manila envelope on the desk, some papers sticking out of it. I’ve been in this office countless times and have never seen it, or anything like it, before.

I should just leave it alone. It’s probably related to my dad’s business, but if that’s the case, why does it look so alien? Like it doesn’t belong here?

I glance over my shoulder and see Dad lifting one of the Harleys up off its side, cursing when he sees the damage. I turn back to the desk and pick up the envelope and reach inside.

And that’s when I see it.

An old photograph, worn and faded, buried beneath a bunch of old letters. Slowly, I pull it out, and as my eyes move across the people in frame, my stomach plummets.

A group of men standing outside a clubhouse not that different than the one The Heartless Bastards own. Leather jackets, bikes, and devilish smiles on their faces like they own the world.

Above them hangs a banner:Smoke and Skulls.

And right in the middle of the group, standing with his arms crossed and his dirty blond hair hanging in his face, is Slate.

He’s younger, a teenager probably, but it’s definitely him.

All the breath rushes from my lungs, and my knees go weak. I brace myself against my dad’s desk as panic hits me.

Slate was one of them.

The same men who just busted up my dad’s shop.

The same men who tried to take me away when I was a child.

The same men who destroyed my family.

---