Page 20 of Taming the Bad Boy

It’s hanging half-open, the metal all dented in and torn like someone took an axe to it. I see bullet holes. Inside, tools are scattered everywhere. Several of the bikes have been completely destroyed, and others are missing. Stolen.

Slate stops the bike, and I quickly leap off and run over to my father, who is standing in the middle of the mess, hands on his hips, head down.

“Dad!” My voice is trembling as I step up beside him.

He spins around, eyes blazing. “Ivy? What are you doing here? I called you and told you not to come in today!”

Shit. Guess I should have called him back. “What in the world happened?”

“They were here,” he growls as his hands curl into fists.

“Who is…they?”

He pauses, then hands me a note on dirty notepad paper.

Debts are not forgiven. Traitors face punishment. We do not forget.

-Smoke and Skulls

My stomach turns to ice.

“Smoke and Skulls…” I mutter as it all comes rushing back to me. “That’s the gang who–”

“Who your mother tried to…” My dad’s voice trails off. Even he doesn’t want to go back to when all that happened. I can see he wants to break something. “Yeah, that’s them.”

No, it can’t be. My dad fixed all that. It’s supposed to be over.

Slate stands silently beside me. I’m surprised he’s not growling threats or expressing some kind of rage. He’s just standing there, rigid, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrow, flicking back and forth as if searching for options.

I try to catch his eye, but his gaze is vacant. Focused on something I can’t see.

When he speaks, my blood runs cold.

“I have to go.”

I blink, unsure if I heard him right. “Go? Go where?”

Slate turns to his bike, already reaching for his key. “I’ll be back.”

My dad laughs bitterly, his voice rough as he shakes his head.

“Should have known. You didn’t say a damn thing when you heard who did this.”

“What does that mean?” I snap, my heart absolutely racing.

Dad’s glaring at Slate as he picks up a hammer. “It means your boy here already knew.”

“Knew?” I stammer. “Knew what?”

My dad growls, takes a step forward towards him. “Knew who left the note.”

Massive adrenaline dump.

I’m cold as I turn back to Slate, searching his face as he stands there still. When he finally brings his eyes to mine, I see something there I’ve never seen before. And it terrifies me.

“Slate?” The words barely escape my lips.

“Don’t worry,” he says slowly, his voice barely audible. “I will fix this.”

---