Page 28 of Demon's Angel

“Stay here as long as you need. Exactly how long, you’ll have to work out with Demon.” A friendly, paternal hand rests briefly on my shoulder, while I bristle, thinking what I do is none of his son’s business. But I can’t be annoyed with Hellfire, especially when he says, “You can relax here, Vi. You and the kid. We’ll keep you safe.”

It’s tempting, but I can’t impose. And a biker club is no place to bring up a child.

“There you are!” Demon’s deep voice booms out from the other end of the corridor.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” With that, Hellfire turns abruptly, leaving us alone.

God, but Demon’s a handsome man, I think, and not for the first time today. Tall, dark brown eyes which look sinful, his hair long enough for me to run my fingers through. High, well-defined cheekbones. The only thing marring it is a slight crookedness of his nose when you look at it right, suggesting it’s been broken at some time. It gives his face character and stops him being pretty. An intentional five o’clock shadow, which has fascinating possibilities… My hand covers my face as I feel my cheeks burning again.I should not be thinking about what he could do with that scruff on his chin.

There’s a clonking and banging sound, accompanied by swearing, coming up the stairs. Peering around Demon, I see a man struggling with the crib, which while not heavy, is awkward.

“Er, it’s collapsible,” I tell him, trying to smother my laugh.

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I? Hey, we haven’t been introduced.” He puts down the crib and stretches out his hand. “I’m Ink.” So he might be, but where he might be tattooed I’ve no idea. His skin looks completely unmarked to me.

“Thank you, Ink.”

After eyeing the crib for a moment, with a smirk Demon flicks the catches, folds it, and easily manoeuvres it through the door. Then he reverses the process and sets the crib up. Ink huffs and walks away with his nose in the air.

“You gonna be okay here?” Demon examines the room with a critical eye.

I cross to the large king-size bed which dominates the room and sit on the cover, taking a moment to look around me. It has everything I need. A television to keep me amused while Theo’s sleeping, a closet, drawers. “It’s great, D. Thank you.”

“D?” he asks, sounding amused.

I could go into an explanation, I don’t bother. I’ll use it unless he calls me out on it.

“Be a bit like the old days, you having a sleepover. Fuck, you were a pain in the ass when you insisted on tagging along with Nathan. Spoilt rotten as I remember, twisting your parents around your little finger.”

The reminder is like a slap in the face. He still sees me as an extension of Nathan, not as a person in my own right. This isn’t a favour to me, but a debt owed to my brother. I lower my eyes. Whenever I look at him carnal feelings arise. It’s unflattering my reaction is no way reciprocated.

Of course, he misunderstands my dejection. “I know I’ll never fill the hole left by Nathan, Vi, but look to me as you would him, okay? Whatever you need, I’ll help you get it.”

He wants me to treat him as I would my big brother.Problem is, I’m not quite sure how I can look at him that way. Not now I’m grown, and have the desires of a woman. As Demon walks around, occupying himself by checking that the drawers are empty, I take a second to wonder what my relationship with Nathan would be now, had he lived. Last time I saw him I was fifteen. He hadn’t grown out of the habit of pulling my pigtails and teasing me; in retaliation, I’d pull up his sweat pants when he wasn’t expecting it and give him a wedgy. A small smile curves my lips at the memory, somehow doubting if I were to treat Demon the same as I’d acted toward Nathan it would be the way to get on Demon’s good side. There are much more adult things I’d prefer to be doing with him, but I expect, if he knew that, he’d be horrified.

Having completed his inspection, Demon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jay mentioned you needed feeding.”

That’s a safe enough topic. “Yeah, I could eat.” My stomach, which earlier had rolled at the thought of food, now reminds me again that I’m hungry and that I hadn’t eaten at all today. “I need to go get Theo and feed him first though.” I drop my eyes to my breasts which have become full once again, threatening to dampen the borrowed t-shirt Jayden had found for me earlier.

It’s like he snaps to attention. “I’ll get him for you.”

“There’s no need…” I’m not an invalid or helpless. I don’t need him doing things for me. He starts to protest when a figure makes a timely appearance in the doorway.

“Hey, Violet. Theo woke and started fussing so I brought him up. Do you want to feed him, or shall I do a bottle?”

I’m full of relief Jayden has saved me from a conversation I was finding awkward. Having had to cope mostly alone, I’m used to doing everything for myself. Demon offering to get my son for me had been blown up out of proportion in my mind, an indication he’d thought that after the bad decisions I’d made today, I couldn’t do anything for myself. Gratefully I take Theo from her, nuzzling his head and breathing in the baby smell that’s even more precious after I’d come so close to losing him. “I’m going to feed him myself, thanks, Jay.”

The borrowed t-shirt is a bit tighter than the clothes I usually wear. As I work out the best way to manage this, I notice Jay has disappeared, and while Demon has stayed, he’s averting his eyes. I shrug. To me feeding my baby is the most natural thing in the world, nothing dirty or disgusting about it. I’ve fed Theo in public before, discreetly covered with a blanket; the snide looks and comments have never bothered me. So why should I feel awkward giving him sustenance in front of Demon?

Because I feel maternal, decidedly non-sexy. Feeding another man’s baby is no way to attract a man.

“How about I go get you a plate of something for you?” Demon offers, his back turned toward me.

An escape for us both. I jump at it. “Yes, please.”

I suspect he was in no hurry to return. A good half-hour passes, during which I’ve fed and changed Theo, and there’s still no sign of him or the promised food. I’ve started to wonder whether to stay in this room, or go to find him. The main thing which keeps me rooted is his men, and their differing moods as they came out of church. Sympathy, I can handle. Curiosity too. But those smirks, half-smiles, or outright laughing? Why am I the butt of a joke I don’t understand?

Perhaps if I got to know them, I’d find they weren’t so unnerving. But maybe leave it; I won’t be here long enough to need to make friends, and tonight, well, I just want to enjoy being close to my son.

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