Page 30 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“Or maybe not.” Kink’s brow creases. “How it came into being isn’t the kid’s fault. Nor hers. Maybe she was making the best of it.”

“She’s strong, Kink.” Then I contradict myself. “Nah, I know she seems weak as hell at the moment, but if I’m right in what I think, she’s already made one torturous decision which as it turns out was all for nothing.”

“She’s one fuck load of complications. Can’t you just walk away?” He’s eyeing me curiously.

“No fuckin’ way,” I reply.

But why?I ask myself.I don’t even know her.It’s as though something inside her calls to me, making me arrogantly believe I should be the one to help her.

Kink brings his chair back down onto all four legs, and using his glass, salutes me. “Dominant to the fuckin’ core,” he pronounces, as if closing that subject completely.

His declaration unsettles me. I decide to put him right on a few facts. “I’m not attracted to her sexually. I mean, that shit wouldn’t be right. She’s more than five months pregnant with another man’s kid.”

“I rest my case.” Kink grins widely. “Dominance isn’t about sex. People think subs serve, but that’s incorrect. As much as subs live to serve their Doms, Doms function best when they’re providing a service to someone who needs it. You spent time as a fuckin’ Marine, serving your country, Niran. You’d have given your life to make some unknown person’s life safer, and sex certainly didn’t come into that. Now, you’re looking out for the club. It’s the knowledge that you can help that makes you breathe easier, not any hard-on you might get. When you can’t, it makes you feel helpless.”

“I don’t know what I can do, Kink.” I’m not going to argue anymore. Too much of what he says makes sense. Another brother might have told me to move on and forget her, that by throwing me out, she’d made her own bed.

Kink shrugs. “You’re already doing all you can, Niran. It’s why you went to Token. Depending on what he comes back with, you’ll work out another approach. Hell, there’s a hundred ways this could play out. Token’s a fuckin’ genius when it comes to hacking. He can check into the hospital’s database, see if she’s made an appointment for a termination. Then, you could coincidently be there for her. If she doesn’t want you, if she truly can do that shit by herself, that’s on her. But it might just turn out that once again you’re there when she most needs support.”

Brightening, I finish my whisky. He’s got a good point. If I were pushed to give my opinion, I’d say nothing was to be gained by her continuing the pregnancy. The only outcome would be that after another three months or so, she’d be burying a dead baby incapable of taking a first breath. If Saffie comes to the same conclusion, I’m sure, via Token, I can find out when, and, if she needs me, be there to offer a shoulder in support, or at least, to cry on.

While I’m still ruminating on what Kink’s said, Pennywise calls out to get his attention. Soon, Kink’s roped into a game of poker.

Chapter Eleven

Niran

Staring after Kink as he strides over to the table where cards are already laid out, I continue thinking. I might have some Dom traits, but I’m certainly not Dominant in the way that he is.

His previous description of his life sounds equally complicated and simple. Contracts and negotiations are things that belong in business, not in a relationship. Along with the concerns whether what you’re doing is right, his method also takes away spontaneity and excitement. If you know what you’re going to do before you do it, how can you push boundaries and discover what you both like?

I might like to take the reins in the bedroom, but surely that’s the role that most women expect of a man? But should the woman want to turn the tables, I don’t give a damn. Nah, while I’m idly interested in the games Kink plays, they’re not for me.

Knowing it takes all sorts to make the world turn, I shake my head as I return to the bar and tap on it, attracting the prospect’s attention again. There’s been a shift change and now I’m served by our latest addition to the club. Fuck knows what the ex-hangaround’s real name is. From the moment he appeared, he picked up the handle, Kid. Hell, he doesn’t look old enough to shave, but is actually twenty-two. He’s eager and keen, just like any new prospect should be.

The Satan’s Devils are giving him a chance to turn his life around. He’d done a stint in juvie for hot-wiring a car, and during that time got into a gang. On getting out, he got dragged into some bad shit, and was picked up on a felony charge. This time, tried as an adult, he got sent to the penitentiary and served two years. Finding that no picnic, on getting out, he was determined never to go back.

Leaving a gang is never easy, and it helps if you have men at your back. Our MC’s reputation trumps that of the kiddie gang he was in. In return for our protection, Kid’s giving us his all. From what I’ve seen, he’s going to be a good man to have at our backs.

“Beer?” Kid asks, respectfully.

I nod. “How’s it going?”

“Fuckin’ love it, man.” Kid leans over as he places the beer in front of me. He runs a hand over his youthful face. “I’m not going to let you down.”

I raise my chin to him, knowing that feeling. It had been my resolve not so long ago. Now, looking out for the club is ingrained in me. If it were not, I’d have called Saffie’s bluff, let her call the cops and been done with it. But from fucking little seeds, acorns can grow, and before you know it, I could have been charged with assault or attempted kidnapping, or fuck knows what they’d make up. And worse, they could have investigated the club on trafficking grounds. Of course there would be nothing to find, but hell, there’s always a chance they could use the opportunity to pin something on the club.

Now I’m at a loose end. My gut tells me Saffie needs me, while my head warns me, I’m the last person she wants. All because she’s scared to death of men like me, a biker. Why the hell is she so terrified of any motorcycle club, and to the extent that just the mention sends her into a panic attack?

I’ve never denied I was one, thought somehow she’d assumed it. But then, not wanting to leave my motorcycle anywhere in the vicinity of her apartment, I’d always used the truck, and as I never wear my cut in it, hadn’t bothered to take it along. There’s also another good reason. In that area, wearing it without backup could well have invited an attack.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I slide it out quickly, hoping it’s Saffie and that she’s reconsidered.Maybe she’s missing me by now.

But it’s not her. I frown, noticing two things. One, it’s past midnight, and the second, the caller is my mom who I rarely hear from. The combination is worrying.

Leaving my beer, I stand and make my way hurriedly, pushing past brothers and club girls doing their thing, and moving around a card game, to head outside.

“Mom, hold on a sec while I get somewhere quieter.” For her to be calling me this late, it must be serious. I want to be able to hear what she says.

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