Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (49 page)

“When I met Mason, I was looking for a job. I’d been sent to this bar in Chicago by a friend, because he knew Mason. Walker, President of the Soldiers, was one of the guys who helped save Carmela. We’re tight, and I still talk to him several times a year. So, get this...the first job Mason gave me was to break up a fight outside one of our neutral bars, Jackson’s. What he didn’t tell me—until I’d already stepped into the middle—was that the fight was between two high-ranking officers of rival MCs. I thought I was fucking dead, right then,” he laughed, “but Mason had my back…then, and now. He’s my brother by choice, you know?”

She nodded against his chest. “The club will always be with you. They’re your family.”

“Yeah, baby, you get it. I knew you did.” He grinned.

“So, next question...have you ever lived outside of Fort Wayne?” he asked lightly.

She paused, then answered slowly, “Yes, I lived in Michigan for a few months.”

“What made you move, baby?” he pushed her.

She tucked her chin down again. “I met someone after Lockee died…thought he was special.”

Waiting patiently, after a couple minutes, he realized she was done talking. “What happened?” he pushed again.

She’d grown stiff, her muscles tightening and tensing, hands clasped in her lap with fingers wound tightly together. Slate kept up the unhurried strokes from her shoulder to hip and back again, pretending he didn’t notice her anxiety. “He wasn’t,” she said finally, “special, I mean.” Deliberately stroking up and down, he reached his hand up and cradled the back of her head, pulling her tighter against his chest. “What happened, Ruby?” he whispered softly in her ear.

She’d become so motionless he had to focus to see the rise and fall of her breath. Seemingly drawn down into memories, she was quiet, sitting with her eyes closed. Slate thought he could almost see her considering and discarding words and phrases, and he waited on her. He waited on her to trust him, to believe in herself. He’d wait on her forever, if she needed that long, but she had to tell him what happened, so they could get past it. This was tearing him up inside, and even knowing it was a selfish thing to make her relive this, he still needed to know, needed her to have enough confidence in what they were building to tell him.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Shaking her head, she blew out the breath and started, “Why do I think you already know?” He continued sitting with her in his lap, waiting.

She shook her head again. “Demon...he told me I’d be his old lady. I was stupid and young. What did it matter to be the old lady of a
n MC president? But he seemed sweet and twisted me up inside. I missed Lockee so much, missed Winger. He said the things I wanted to hear, so I went with him, but when we got to their clubhouse, he only wanted to know whatever secrets I knew about Rebel operations. I didn’t know anything, but he didn’t believe that. He never quit thinking I’d pulled something on him, that I was hiding something, that I knew something...anything.

“He’d used up a lot of trust in his club by taking me, and once he knew I couldn’t help him, he found it was better to keep me out of sight. I was isolated from the members, not allowed to go or do anything by myself, and after a while, not even
with
anyone. He told me things, threatened me, accused me of terrible things. By the time he was done with me, he’d convinced me of everything he had said.” She shuddered. “If you hear something often enough, for long enough, it can become a truth. You begin to believe it, you know?” she queried, and he shook his head.

She forced a laugh. “No, you wouldn’t know. You’ve never been that weak, never allowed someone that level of control over you, but I believed him. I was fat. I was ugly. I was old. I was useless. I couldn’t cook. I was a whore. I couldn’t fuck. I couldn’t do anything right. I
believed him.
” She shuddered again, the movement roiling through her body.

She turned her head, pulling against his hand, her gaze sweeping the loft. “The room he kept me in was about as big as the dresser over there, more like a closet. It was small, and after a time, I knew the walls like the back of my hand. When he didn’t tie me up, I would walk the edges all day long. I still dream about it. Fingers against the wall, it was one step, three steps, one step, touch the doorframe, three steps.

“Sometimes, I’d lay down on the floor and try to see underneath the door. One time, there was another woman looking back at me, and I got excited. I realized that the eye I could see wasn’t blinking, and then I understood she was dead.”

Slate held himself still; the only movement was his hand as he continued to slowly caress her. Ruby’s face slowly swung back to him, and he cupped her head, holding her close again. “There was this one day…I knew something was wrong. Things were off, and Demon was beside himself. He punished me for a million reasons. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, because I’d lost track of time along the way; by that point, I didn’t care about much of anything. He brought in a man, and they drew some blood from my arm. I was afraid of the man, because I hadn’t seen anyone other than Demon for a very long time.”

Ruby took in a deep breath. “Demon came in the next day with two members. They held me while he poured something down my throat until I thought I was going to suffocate. I was given clothes and told to dress, then was handed a phone and told to call a ride. I called DeeDee; that was the only number I could remember. I didn’t even know where I was, only the general area from when we had arrived months earlier. They set me outside and left. Bingo came and got me.”

She was shaking now, trembling all over, but seemed determined to see it through. “I didn’t know.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I swear I didn’t know.” Tears were streaking down her cheeks. “I didn’t know,” she repeated. “I was pregnant, but lost the baby.” Her hands wound into his shirt, and she pushed her face into his chest, sobbing.

“Baby, I love you. Do you hear me, Ruby? I love you,” Slate murmured softly. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, baby, so, so sorry. Did he hit you?”

Her head nodded. “A lot.”

“And he took your baby. That’s what he made you drink, right? Something to take your baby?” Slate hated asking these questions.

Her breath hitched, and on a breath, she said, “Yes, he made me miscarry.”

“Ruby, did he share you?” He held his breath, waiting on her answer.

“No, it was only him,” she said, scrubbing her face back and forth on his shirt.

“You are beautiful, baby, so fucking strong and brave. I love you,” he reassured her again, trying to make sure she understood him, that she really heard what he was saying.

With her face against his chest, she whispered, “For a long time, I felt like I was on my own. In my head, you know? Alone. I’ve been afraid for so long, but you took that and you smushed it, pulling me into you. I was freefalling for a long time, but you caught me. I know you love me, Slate. I feel it, the connection we have. I’ve felt it since the first time I saw you, the first time you touched me…the first time you spoke to me. You didn’t know it, but I was chasing you for months after you made me choose.” She tipped her face up to him, and he saw her eyes were still swimming in tears. “You made me want to
be
again. I love you too, Slate.”

They held each other tenderly as dusk settled down on the city, shadows edging into the room, but not daring to touch them as they lay together on their bed.

22 -
            
Unprepared

“Baby,” he murmured, feeling her slide from the bed in their room at the clubhouse, “where you headed?” His eyes still closed, he heard her moving around the room, gathering her clothes.

“I need to go to the store, and I want to finish there before they’re too crazy with people,” she told him, leaning close and dropping a sweet kiss on his mouth. “Slate, we’re still meeting at Clara’s for lunch, right? I love that place, with the swings at the tables.” She leaned in again, kissing him a second time.

“Yeah, Ruby,” he said, eyes still closed, “pizza for lunch sounds good, but why are we meeting there and not here?”

Ruby laughed. “Because I’m going to the apartment from lunch, and you have to head to Slinky’s.”

“Mmm, yeah, that’s right.” He took in a deep breath. “I should get up now, yeah? Kiss you properly before you go on your spree.”

“It’s not a spree; we need nearly everything for the kitchen still,” she laughed, “and you should go back to sleep, take a little time. It’s all good, babe. I love you.” With that, she kissed him a final time and darted out the door.

He called after her, “Take someone with you, Ruby,” hearing her laughter come back up the hallway with a snotty, “Yeah, yeah.”

Slate dozed in and out for a short time, and then decided it was time to wake up, running a hand through his hair. In the weeks since he forced Ruby to talk to him, things had been good between them. She was excited about their apartment, and had even helped DeeDee move out last weekend with no tears. Slate’d enjoyed introducing her to Jason, watching the carefully-circling interaction between them as they each sized up someone they knew was important to DeeDee.

Strolling into the main room, he was surprised to see all three prospects behind the bar; at least one of them was usually on babysitting duty. Looking around, he spotted PBJ sitting at a table along the wall, and he walked over. “Hey, brother, who went with Ruby to the store?” he asked.

Cutting his eyes up to Slate, PBJ shook his head and stood. “I didn’t know she was gone, Prez. How long ago?” he asked, looking worried.

“Fuck me,” Slate said softly, “probably an hour now. She wanted to get to the store early.
I’m gonna text her, hang on.” Pulling out his phone, he sent,
Ruby, where are you?
and waited impatiently.

In a few seconds, he received an answer,
Still at the store. You need something?

He typed a quick,
You at Jefferson?
and waited.

Yes, Bed Bath and Beyond now
. Kohl’s soon.

Tightening his mouth, Slate typed,
Who’s with you?
This time, the wait for a response was longer…quite a bit longer. He was proud of his girl though, when she didn’t shy away from the hard stuff, texting back,
Everyone was asleep, but I’m fine
.

Gripping the phone tightly, he sent,
I’ll be there in 10. Stay at BBB
, and shoved the device into his pocket. “She’s at Jefferson; I’m headed over there now. Why the hell would she do this, PBJ? Has she been complaining about the security again?” Slate was pissed; Ruby may have put herself in harm’s way without realizing it.

“I’m coming with you,” PBJ growled, knifing to his feet, then yelled, “Tank, let’s go, brother,” and saw a prospect round the end of the bar to open the outside door. Slate felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but figured it was Ruby telling him not to bother, and since he wasn’t going to listen to her anyway, he ignored it.

“She planned on shopping, then lunch, then the apartment,” he told them Ruby’s agenda for the day, and watched as Tank nodded. He finished with, “She took the Civic, since she was shopping.”

“Got it, Prez,” the prospect said, starting his bike with a kick, waiting on Slate and PBJ to pull out, leaving him in the six position.

At the outdoor mall, they rolled through the parking lots near the store she’d mentioned, finally seeing the club car parked in an edge lot away from the building. Slate pulled up beside the driver’s door, expecting to see an irritated Ruby waiting for him, but the car was empty. Balancing the bike, he dug the phone out of his pocket, looking at her last return text,
Argh. Fine
.

“PBJ,” he called, “she should be here, man.” He texted her back,
Where are you? At car, no you,
and waited. Nothing came in response.
Shit,
he thought,
shit, shit, shit...where the fuck is she?

Tank yelled, “Shopping bags are in the car, Prez.” Slate killed his bike, putting down the kickstand and dismounting in a hurry. He cupped his hands to look through the back windows and saw Tank was right; there was a pile of bags stacked carefully in the backseat. He resent his last text, and waited again, his heart seizing in his chest with fear.

Opening the car door, PBJ picked up something from the front seat, and turned it so Slate could see. It was Ruby’s phone lit up with his most recent texts. Clasping one hand over his mouth, he started shaking and felt a chill settle into his stomach; he couldn’t catch his breath. “Fuck me,” he choked out, shaking his head hard. “Where the fuck
is
she?”

Taking in a deep breath and trying desperately to control himself, he clipped, “Tank, go to the store; have them page her.” Eyes wide, he looked at his friends. “PBJ, stay with me; you clock anything, you tell me right the fuck now.” The prospect took off at a run towards the store, and Slate spun in a slow, deliberate circle, looking hard at the vehicles parked within sight, but saw nothing suspicious.

“Anything?” he barked at PBJ, receiving a, “Nothing, man,” in response. Running his hands through his hair, Slate strode to the car, wrenching open the door and looking inside for anything out of place. Behind him, he heard PBJ say, “Thank fuck,” at the same time he heard Tank call, “Prez,” and turning on his heel, he saw Ruby walking across the parking lot with Tank at her side.