Promise - Book 1 & 2

Slade

*BANG* a gunshot breaks the silence through the building, quickly followed by screams and yelling. More gunshots echo through the halls.

“Slade, get in the closet now!” my mom is yelling at me, but I can’t move. I feel paralyzed. I feel her arms around me as I am lifted into her arms.

“MOM! What’s happening?!” I finally scream out the thought that has been running through my head since the first shot was fired.

“I-I don’t know baby. Just stay here and don’t make a sound. I love you so much.” Her words sting as if she is telling me goodbye. She wraps a blanket around me, kisses my forehead and quickly slides out of the closet, closing the door behind her. I inch my way as close to the door as I can get and peer out through a crack in the slats on the door.

I see my mom curled up in the corner of the room next to the bed. The noises outside our room have died down some and I let out a sigh of relief. My body goes rigid as I hear the first loud *thud* in the hallway followed by the sound of slow heavy footsteps. Another loud *thud* vibrates the wall behind me causing me to gasp. I quickly pull the blanket to my mouth to stifle the noise.

The heavy footsteps are now making their way to our door. There is a brief moment of silence…*THUD*...splinters of wood fly all across the room as our door is kicked in. I can see 2 feet with worn black leather biker boots that are partially covered by blue denim at the ankles. I quickly look over to my mom and see the glistening tears on her cheeks. The feet are moving closer with thundering footsteps and my heart is racing with an equally thunderous force.

“What do we have here?” The voice is deep and his tone is sadistically abrasive. The feet are now pointed in my mom’s direction.

“Looks like one of Silas’s bitches.” this voice is much less abrasive and seems almost entertained by the situation. I look over and see two more feet standing in the doorway.

“What should we do with her?” the deep voice asks in a tone I can’t quite decipher.

“Waste her and let’s get out of here. I need a drink.” the feet in the doorway turn and disappear back into the hall.

“It’s ok baby.” I hear my mom’s voice call out and I see she is looking at me.

“Oh baby, you are far from alright.” the man growls out. I hear the *click* as he pulls back the hammer on his revolver. *BANG*. I watch my mom’s head fall forward and then I hear the sound of the heavy footsteps as they exit the room. I don’t bother to look and see if they actually left, I just stare at my mom slumped against the wall with a pool of blood flooding out around her.

“Slade?! You awake?” The voice rips me from the nightmare as I gasp for air.

“I’m up. What the fuck do you want?” I yell back to Haze who is, no doubt, standing right outside my door smirking at my irritation.

“You're needed in the dungeon, man.” I slide out of the bed and pull on a pair of jeans that had been lying on the floor beside my bed. I make my way to the door and pull it open just enough to look at Haze and see I was correct in my assumption regarding his smirk.

“Are you fucking telling me that you can’t handle whatever the fuck it is yourself?” He shakes his head at my question which just irritates me more.

“We caught one of the Warriors men crossing into our territory. He said he has some information that you might be interested in.” I pause for a moment as I consider what any Warrior could offer me that would give me reason to let them live.

“Nah, I don’t need to hear what he has to say. Shoot the piece of shit and send his head to Zane.” before I can close the door, Haze slides his foot in to stop me.

“He told me you wouldn't wanna listen so he told me to give you a name…Cherilie.” Her name freezes me in place. The night the Warrior’s tore through our home, killing women and children…my mom…my father had come back from their run to find everything torn to the ground. He found me in the closet, but they found no other survivors. Cherilie was assumed to be one of the dead. They burned the club house to the ground like a mass cremation. I mourned Cherilie as much as I had mourned my mother. I know we were only 8 when the attack happened, but my 8 year old self loved her. I always told her I was going to marry her someday…I really believed she was meant to be mine.

“I'll be down after I get dressed.” Haze slides his foot out of the doorway and I hear his footsteps as he walks down the hall. I slam the door closed and quickly throw on my boots then pull on a black t-shirt and my cut. I Grab my bandana off the dresser and tie it around my head to keep my hair out of my face then quickly exit my room. As I walk down the hall I am greeted by the sweet face of Amara as she toddles over and throws her arms around my leg with her mother, Shae, running out of her room to grab her.

“Amara, you are going to trip Uncle Slade!” Her words only cause the little cherub faced angel to giggle.

“Good morning, Shae.” I smile warmly as a puzzled look grips at her features.

“You know it is 2 in the afternoon, right?” We both laugh as she shakes her head at me.

“Well, I just woke up, so it's morning for me. Gotta go take care of some business.” I start to walk away as I hear her voice from behind me.

“Yeah, no rest for the wicked.” Oh, she has NO idea.

I make my way down the stairs to the common room and quickly turn to head down to the basement that my men fondly refer to as “the dungeon”, but I'm stopped by a familiar woman's voice.

“Hey Slade, would you like some coffee?” I turn and smile at the short woman behind the bar with her salt and pepper hair pulled back into a tight braid and a warm smile resting on her aged face.

“Not right now Kay. I need to go handle some shit downstairs. I'll grab a cup when I'm done, thanks.” She nods as she goes back to washing the glasses behind the bar. The door lets out a low groan as I pull it open and make my way down the concrete steps, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the hall below. I see Haze standing outside the door to the first room, but his facial expression catches me off guard. The man looks like he has seen a ghost.

“Has he said anything else?” Haze lowers his head and nods, but I can tell he's not going to offer the information willingly.

“Well?! What the fuck did he say?” Haze is never the kind of man to hold back so I assume this must be something pretty bad if it has his tongue silenced.

“I think you need to hear him out.” I cock my head to the side as I study him, feeling frustrated at how he's avoiding looking at me. I fling the door open and step slowly into the room. Seated in a chair in the center of the cold, dark room is a steel chair with a man strapped in tightly. He is slumped over with his back heaving with each breath. I flip the switch on the wall with the hum of the fluorescent lights filling the room as they come to life.

“I hear you think you have information I might want. I suggest you get to talking before I let my men finish what they clearly already started.” I smile wickedly as I see his swollen eye, bloodied lip and can clearly see the bruises forming all over his face.

“Cherilie…she…sent me.” He is struggling to speak, but his words send ice through my veins.

“That's a fascinating story, man. Really it is. There's only one problem…Cherilie is dead.” My words are bitter and laced with venom.

“No! She…she ain’t dead!” I kneel down, taking a fist full of the man’s hair as I jerk his head back and look into his eyes.

“Start talking.” My anger is threatening to break free and I'm struggling to keep it at bay.

“Zane…he has her. She asked me to come. She…she needs out of there.” He doesn't break eye contact with me.

“And why should I believe you?” I growl out, fighting back the emotions this man is causing to stir.

“Inner pocket on my vest.” Haze rushes over to grab the man’s vest off the steel table in the corner and he feels around until he finds what the man was asking us to find. I look over as he slides a small paper out of the man’s pocket and I watch his eyes go wide. He walks over and hands me the paper, only it's not a paper…it's a picture. A woman with long fire red curls falling over her shoulders, piercing green eyes and a slender body. She's sitting on a black Harley with a little girl in front of her who has the same green eyes and curly hair, only her hair is more of a medium auburn. The woman is looking down at the little girl with a huge smile on her face. I had often wondered what Cherilie would look like all grown up. Would her red hair fade? Would she keep it short, or let it grow out? Would she have been tall, thin and curvy like her mother? Or maybe she would be shorter and less curvy like her sister. The woman in the picture has a body that would make a priest blush.

“How's this possible?” I can’t think of anything I want to know more in this moment.

“Zane…he took her the night of the raid. She's been at his compound.” His response only raises more questions than it answers.

“Why're you helping her?” He stills at my question before letting out a sigh.

“She's a good girl. If she doesn’t get out of there…he's going to break her. You have to get her and her sister out of there. I'll tell you anything you need to know, but you gotta promise to get them out!” There's a deep sincerity in his voice as he begs me to save her.

“Get Snake and Jackson down here now.” Haze doesn’t wait for further instruction before heading out of the room. He returns in a matter of minutes with Snake and Jackson in tow.

“What’s the plan boss?” Snake’s voice sounding like he has been aching for action.

“Tell us what you know….and what's your name?” I watch the man visibly stiffen.

“Rain…they call me Rain.”