Page 25 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“No,” I refute loudly, my voice showing I’m losing control of myself. “We’re far from fucking friends. Give me your key and just leave!”

“Saffie…” He comes closer, and I take a step back, holding the phone out of his reach.

“Key!” My voice is shrill.Why won’t they leave?If he tries to call my bluff, I’ll dial 911. Surely, someone will be sent to help me?

He could overpower me, forcibly take my phone from me.I take another step back, increasing the distance between us, my finger hovering over the green button.

With a worried glance toward Mary, Niran shakes his head, takes my key out of his pocket and holds it out. When I don’t move close enough to take it, he places it down on the table. “We’ll leave, okay? Though there’s really nothing for you to worry about. I swear to you, Saffie, no one in our club would hurt you.” His calm voice has no effect on me.

Showing my finger is still over the keypad of my phone, I give them one last warning. “Last chance. I mean it, I’ll call the cops.”

“Saffie,” Mary pleads.

But if over the past few days Niran has learned to read me at all, it’s to see when I’m serious. He reaches for her hand. “Come on, Mary.”

Unwillingly, but seeing I’m set on the action I threatened if they don’t walk through my door, her face falls and she steps up beside him. “Saffie…” She tries one last appeal. “Niran’s given you my number. If you want anything, just call me.”

“No.” I don’t want anything from her, or from anyone in a motorcycle club. They’re all evil, twisted, demented. I’ll never be safe from them.

They know where I live.I’ll have to move.For all I know, they’re associated with the Crazy Wolves and Niran’s been here just waiting for Duke to come get me.

Duke might already be on his way.

Even as I have that thought, a voice inside me asks,Why should I run? Why, when I’ve already lost everything worth living for? Why should I try to survive when all I want to do is die?

I watch the door close behind them, not feeling any relief. If only they hadn’t been connected to an MC, they’d both still be my friends. The woman I envy, and the man who was starting to mean something to me.

History’s repeating itself. It’s happening again.I thought I could trust him.

Why is it I keep getting in with the wrong people? What is it about me that makes the same mistakes over and over? Have I got a faulty gene which stops me reading people correctly?

What the hell does a biker want from me?And why did he hide what he was? He never arrived on his bike, never wore a cut, and never talked about his club with me.

We didn’t talk much about anything.

I fall to the sofa, put my head in my hands, and howl out my sorrow and frustration as I let my thoughts flood through me.

When I learned I was pregnant for a second time, my initial reaction was how the hell even a small embryo could have survived me being beaten so badly. I hadn’t been convinced it was real until I heard the cells vibrating against each other, that sound that people refer to as a heartbeat.

I knew immediately Duke must never find out.

I’d lain in the hospital bed thinking about the new life in my womb. It was alive despite all the odds. It was my duty to carry it to term. Despite who the father was, I was confident that with him out of the picture, I could bring my child up to be nothing like his sperm donor. It was a miracle, and I already loved him or her. Despite my best efforts to give my baby the best start in life, I’d failed. A baby I found out was a boy at the exact same time I discovered he had no chance.

This place has been okay up to now. I haven’t been robbed and don’t expect to be. I drive a junker which I pray for before starting each day, hoping it’s not about to fall apart. No one in their right mind would expect to find anything worth stealing from someone who chooses to live here.

Now, there’s even more to add to my plate. A member of a freaking MC has befriended me. I know I’d be wrong not to question why.

I’m not stupid. I know if Duke finds me my life won’t be worth living. I ran, which is one black mark. I’ll have earned another by keeping his son a secret. That there’s something wrong with his development would again be down to me. It’s not death I’m scared about, it’s the manner in which he’ll deliver it. Duke’s honour will depend on how he dispatches me, and I’ve heard him boast how he can keep his victims alive for days.

If he doesn’t kill me, I might end up wishing he’d stolen my final breath.He could give me to his club brothers.I know of a whore who was choked to death, and another disfigured for fun. I could be sentenced to years servicing the club.

It might be a bit of a stretch to immediately make the leap from meeting a stranger who admits he rides with a motorcycle club to think Duke will be given information about where to find me, but I’ve spent five years with a one-percenter club. I know there’s often rivalry between MCs, but also some which are friendly to each other. If the tall, Black man called Niran belonged to one of the latter, befriending me might not have been accidental.

What do I do?

If I could, I’d curl up and die. How can the universe be so unkind to me? I’ve still not come to terms with the idea I’ve lost the chance of holding my newborn baby in my arms. Even if I decide to continue the pregnancy, if he’s born alive, from his birth and for all of his short life he’ll be hooked up to machines. I won’t be there cheering on when he takes his first steps or holding his hand as he starts to toddle along. I won’t need to equip him with life skills and eventually send him out into the world.

My son will never have a chance of any of that, and I won’t play my part as his mom.

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