Page 27 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

Mary talks on, luckily satisfied with grunts for answers as my mind races as I drive, wondering how I can bring help to Saffie. She needs it, that’s for certain.

I’d hated leaving her but there was no way we could have stayed, particularly having Mary with me. For one thing, our presence would have stressed her more, probably dangerously raising her blood pressure. As for another, even if the cops had stopped to ask questions, if my colour hadn’t been enough, once they’d discovered my connection to the MC, I’d have spent the evening in lockup, and heaven forbid, if they wanted to go all out, Mary as well. Grumbler would have quite rightly killed me.

At the extreme, cops are always on the lookout for any excuse to bring down an MC, and the whole club could have possibly been dragged into it. Forcing our way into a woman’s home and refusing to leave? Yeah, it might not be much to go on, but they’d have done their damndest to have built a tenuous case around it.

Fuck it.There must be some way to get Saffie to realise the last person she needs to fear is me, or the men in my club. Every one of them would drop everything to help her. I’ve no doubt of that.

But what can I fucking do?Right now, I’ve more questions than answers.

Driving up the track, I finally pull up outside Grumbler and Mary’s house. The man himself, comes out to the car, wrenches the passenger door open, and helps his wife out. His eyes examine her carefully, taking her in from head to toe.

“You’re back sooner than I expected.” His eyes narrow. “You look pale. You alright?”

She smiles up at him, albeit a little wanly. “I’m good, but Saffie—”

“What the fuck’s she done?” he interrupts.

“She threw us out,” I input, as it turns out, unhelpfully, as it attracts his wrathful gaze.

“She’s in a terrible situation, Grumbler.” Mary sniffs loudly.

“Fuckin’ hell, Niran. You said it would be alright to take my ol’ lady there! And you bring her back fuckin’ upset!” Grumbler roars, making me take a step back and hold up my hands, palms facing outward.

But Mary’s fist hits him lightly in the stomach before his can swing. “Niran’s got nothing to do with this. He was just doing what I wanted. But Grumbler, once she knew who we were, she didn’t want us to stay. And I’m really okay. I’m just worried about her, and I don’t understand why she made us leave.”

“I want to hear this,” he, well, grumbles. At first, I wonder whether he’d prefer to hear what had happened from me, but by the way he’s focusing on his old lady’s face, he needs her reassurance she’s as okay as she’d have him believe.

And I’ve got things I want to do. “I’ll head back to the clubhouse.” I incline my head toward Mary. “Your ol’ lady can fill you in on the deets. You know where to find me if you want me.” I’m prepared to stand still if after hearing her out, he still wants to use his fists.

Grumbler lets me take a step, before he snaps, “This gonna be club business?”

On the face of it, no. Unless it’s by accident at another of Mary and Saffie’s hospital appointments coinciding, we may never bump into Saffie again. Or, not soon, in any event. She needs time and space. Maybe if she thinks about things for a moment, she’ll realise whatever she has against bikers doesn’t apply to me. If I have my way, I’ll find some way to get back to her. But fuck it, somehow there’s a connection, whatever it is, with another MC. Could I have unwittingly stepped into something as yet unknown? I can’t rule out it might pit us up against a rival club. “It might,” I answer him eventually. “It’s a fucked-up situation, Grumbler. I don’t feel right leaving it as it is.”

Mary turns from her man to me, her face lighting up. “You’re still going to help her?”

I gentle my tone. “Her situation upsets you, Mary, and it fuckin’ upsets me too. It’s clear to see she needs someone in her corner, so yeah, if I can figure out a way to put someone into it, I will.” But I’m stumped as to how if she doesn’t trust bikers.

Grumbler, noticing his woman’s not quite as upset having been appeased that she’s not the only one worrying, gives me a chin lift before putting his arm around her and leading her into their house. I watch them for a second, noticing how their love and respect is palpable, and wondering whether I’ll ever find anything like that.Could I have found that with Saffie?Nah, no chance. Today has proven how little we know of each other.

Getting back into the driver’s seat, I do a three-point turn and head to the club.

I’m a man on a mission when I arrive, with one thing on my mind and one thing only. Entering the clubhouse, I look around. I see Blaze, Dusty, Scribe—oh there’s Kink, alone again tonight. Reboot and Keeper are deep in conversation. Alex is here with Tyler, her son, and Dart who’s busy trying to corral Isla, their toddler who’s running around seemingly intent on evading her father. Today I’m hard put to find a smile and the one man I’m seeking isn’t in sight.

Striding across, just waving a hand at whoever tries to engage me in conversation, I head for the offices. Opening one door without knocking, I sigh with relief as I see Token behind his computer.

“Got a job…” My words trail off as I notice his head is rolled back, his face contorted, and under the desk I can see legs and a butt.

“Give me a moment,” he rasps, unconcernedly. “Cindy, carry on. I’m close, girl. Oh fuck.”

Rolling my head back on my neck, I half turn to give him some privacy. It’s not more than a few seconds later that a long, satisfied groan shows he’s reached completion, and when I turn around, Cindy’s backing out, wiping her mouth.

“He’s all yours,” she tells me cheekily, and edging past me, goes out through the door. I might not partake of the club girls myself, but I’m not blind to the benefits for some by being in an MC.

Token’s breathing heavily, a cocky, sated smile on his face when he at last looks up. His hands reach down, and his movements show he’s tucking himself away and zipping up.

“Got a mouth like a goddamn Hoover that one.” He gives me a lazy grin. “What can I do for you, Brother?”

I pull out a chair and sit down. My stump is throbbing, so I lean forward and rub the spot where my real leg ends. “Got a name for you. Can you look into it for me?” When he nods, I give it to him. “It’s the woman I’ve been going to see. Saffie Jones.” I add her address which I’d memorised and her place of work which I might have checked out one day when unbeknownst to her, I’d followed her. “I think she’s in trouble, Toke, and maybe needs help.”

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