Page 21 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

Saffie hasn’t mentioned the father.As he should have been the one she’d contacted first, or been at the hospital to accompany her, I gather he’s out of the picture. Does she know who he is? My initial impression of Saffie is that she’s no bed-hopper, but even the best of us makes mistakes. A drunken one-night stand where no names were exchanged? Or was it conceived in a relationship that went sour? Did he throw her out as he didn’t want to be a dad?

Glancing around the apartment, I wrinkle my nose in disgust. She’s made the best of it, but there’s only so much silk you can apply to a pig’s ear. Nothing can disguise the unkempt nature of the building’s fabric—shoddily thrown together with paper-thin walls. It makes me wonder how it’s still standing.

Saffie must either be exhausted, or has learned to tune the sounds out, but I keep jumping as noises reach my ears—heavy footsteps overhead, the sound of a television from next door, and a loud argument with voices swearing loudly, and the shouting of someone who ‘needs to score’.

Whoever the man is who’s responsible for Saffie’s predicament, if he knows his woman is living like this, he deserves a fucking beatdown.

When I start yawning, I quietly visit her tiny bathroom, wincing at the loudness of my stream of piss, but even that doesn’t disturb her. Returning to the sofa, I take off my prothesis, snorting quietly when I start to lie down, finding amusement in that the couch is at least long enough for one of my legs.

As a Marine, I got used to sleeping anywhere. I employ the tricks I’d learned back in the day for snatching sleep whenever an opportunity presents itself. With my mind still whirring, it takes a while to work, but I drop off eventually.

I don’t sleep easily, sounds continue from the building around me, startling me out of my rest. One such sound is Saffie’s door opening.

Pulling myself upright, I realise it’s the early morning, and despite my uncomfortable position, I’ve stayed the whole night.

As she moves to the bathroom, I strap on my prothesis, and put my boot on my other foot. Then, thankful my hair is shorn short and needs only my palms to run over it, I go to her kitchen and get coffee started. It’s decaf, as I expected.Saffie’s been trying to do everything right.

“You’re still here.”

I turn around to greet her, disregarding the obvious. “Want coffee?” I ignore that she’s not wearing what I knew was a wig. Her natural hair is dark, far more suited to her complexion.

Her mouth twists in distaste. “Water will do. I, er…”

I can see she’s embarrassed and unsure how to greet a stranger in the morning. Assessing her quickly, I see her sleep has done little to refresh her. The shadows in her eyes show the hurt is, quite obviously, still there.

I don’t ask how she’s feeling, it’s evident.

She comes closer, wrapping her arms around herself. “I keep thinking this is a nightmare, Niran. I want to wake up, but however much I pinch myself, when I open my eyes, it’s still there.” I go to speak, but she gets in before me, “I can’t wish this away, and I have to deal with it myself. I have to come to a decision that’s mine and mine alone.”

“I can’t tell you what to do.” I’d come to that conclusion myself.

“I know.” A brief, self-deprecating smile appears and fades just as quickly. “It would be easier if you, or anyone could.”

“You going to be okay?”

“No,” she replies honestly. “But I have to keep going. Maybe I’ll just let nature take its course, or maybe not.” She sits and puts her head into her hands, and then idly draws one down to caress her belly. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do either.”

“You are,” I tell her, going to crouch in front of her, then taking hold of her hands. “You’ll come to the right decision.”

She looks at me as if she can’t understand herself. “I didn’t want you to stay but thank you for being here.”

“I wish I could do more,” I respond, earnestly. I wish I could wave a wand and solve her problems.

She shakes her head. “You’re stopping me from freaking out. That’s more than enough, Niran.” Her eyes narrow, and she asks, “Am I right to trust you?”

It’s an unusual question, but one I suppose is valid. “Again, I can’t tell you what to do, Saffie. But I assure you, I’ve no evil intentions toward you. You need someone to support you and I’m willing to play that role.”

“Why should that be you?”

I don’t have an answer. “Who knows, Saffie? I’ve never been faced with this situation before. Who knows why I feel like I do? I just know if there’s any help to be given, I want to be the one to provide it.” Maybe there was something in what Kink said—I’ve an innate desire to fulfil a woman’s needs, even if they aren’t sexual.Nah, he was talking out of his ass.

She gives a half-smile. “And I don’t know why I let you. But you being here, staying the night… I think you stopped me from going crazy.”

At the back of my mind, I think I might have prevented her harming herself. At least, in that, I was successful. This morning her hurt is no less, but there’s more of a determination about her.

“You going to be okay today?” Taking back my hands, I pinch the brow of my nose. I could take a day off, but that would set the guys behind. “I should go to work.”

“Saying I’ll be fine would be a lie,” she admits. “But I can’t give up. I’ve got to carry on, whatever the future will look like. You’re not the only one who’s got work, Niran.”

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