Page 43 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

I know, though, by now, Susie’s probably already warming someone else’s bed.

Morning arrives and I’m still in a foul mood. Cyn wouldn’t speak to me at breakfast which should have been a pleasurable result but being made out to be the one who’d done wrong doesn’t settle with me. Hell, maybe I’m not good brother material, but I didn’t ask for this role. All I’m asking for is a little respect. Not for me, but for Cyn to have some for herself. Otherwise, she’ll continue to make the same mistakes over and over, and probably replace Hester with a man of the same ilk.

Another day has passed and Saffie still hasn’t reached out to me. Not that I expect her to, but today that seems harder to accept. Instead of absence making her fade from my mind, it gets worse by the day. How is she, and has she come to a decision? If so, which way has she decided to go?Is she still safe in that apartment of hers?Damn, I wish I were able to be there to protect her. Anything could have happened, and I’d never know about it.

She’s just a friend.Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying.

Having dealt with Susie and Cyn the previous night, and being unable to turn my thoughts from Saffie, I’m in a foul mood this morning. I snap at Ross when his only crime was to ask to borrow a wrench, and damn near take Gibbs’ head off when he gets too close and jostles me. Snips nearly gets my fist in his throat when he makes a joke about Black dicks.

“Niran!” Grumbler’s voice is sharp. “A word?”

Tossing down the tools I was using, I follow him into the office.

“This can’t go on,” he states. “You’re upsetting everybody. Fuck, Brother. I know this woman’s got your head in a spin, but you’ve got to forget her. She’s fuckin’ terrified of bikers, and unless you want to turn in your patch, you haven’t got a chance with her.”

I know that. If it weren’t for that strength of feeling, I’d have confronted her again, but leaving the club is something I can’t countenance. “It’s not just her, Grumbler. It’s fuckin’ Cyn as well, and Susie doesn’t fuckin’ help.”

He grins. “Yeah, I heard your sister put on quite a show last night.”

Sighing, I rub my nose. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

“Send her home?”

“I would, but it’s the last thing she wants. And her parents seem to think they’re well rid of her.” I hold out both hands as if asking,what can I do?

“She reminds me of Alicia when I first met her.” Grumbler refers to his eighteen-year-old stepdaughter. “At war with the world.”

“At war with authority,” I correct. “I’m not sure what’s the best way to be done with her. At least Alicia has some darn self-respect.”

As if realising there’s no advice he can give, Grumbler reverts to the first topic again. “Mary and I were wondering if she decided to keep the baby.” He says it conversationally, as if it’s of little consequence. He can’t know how much my ignorance on the subject is eating me up.

I realise I’ve never asked his opinion before. “What would you do? If that happened to you and Mary?”

Grumbler winces. “Don’t be putting the hex on us, Brother,” he rasps back. “We’re too well aware of the problems in pregnancy. But yeah, we’ve spoken about it. Neither Mary nor I could see the point in continuing if there was to be no hope at the end.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “Why prolong the agony for the baby or mom? Some things can’t be saved. Don’t mistake me, hell, it would break us to make that decision, but when all hope is gone, what’s left?”

His view coincides with mine. I wonder if Saffie’s come around to thinking the same way. Of course, at first, she’d hope the doctors were wrong, but the prognosis can’t be denied—a baby so badly formed as hers has no chance at life. It’s heartwrenchingly sad, but that’s the way of it.

“Anyway,” Grumbler continues, “it’s a decision only the parents, or in this case, the mom, can make. It’s she who’s going to have to live with the choice. Mary’s worried about Saffie. Whatever she decides, she’ll need support.”

I’d give anything to be able to give it. “She wants nothing to do with us, Grumbler. That day Mary and I went around, she was this close,” I put my finger and thumb so there’s barely a gap between them, “to calling the cops. Black man unwanted in a White woman’s apartment, what d’you think they’re going to make of that?”

He presses his lips together, before offering, “Shoot first?”

“Happens far too fuckin’ often, Brother.”

His face falls with sympathy. “Then you’ll have to move on. Look, I understand how this is fuckin’ with your head, but you can’t take it out on the civilians.”

He’s right. “I’ll apologise to Ross and Gibbs.” Snips though, he can go hang. He knew what he was doing.

“They don’t want your fuckin’ apology. They want you to get your head back in the game. Just like I do.”

Raising my chin, I exit the office, determined to pull myself together, while wondering how long it will be before I’m smiling again. I’m plagued by two women with two different problems. One won’t admit she needs my support, the other demands only what I can offer unwillingly. Three, if you count Susie who only wants me for my damn cock.

I do make an effort. By the time lunchtime comes around, the atmosphere which could have earlier been cut with a knife has lightened. I even attempt a laugh at one of Snips’ lame jokes, which, of course, encourages him to embark on another.

---