Page 47 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

Once I’m in gear and pulling out of the parking lot, I reach for her hand and squeeze it tight. I don’t ask questions, just let her be.

The journey continues in silence, broken only by the distraught weeping at my side. It’s not loud but sounds like thunder to my ears. I’d give anything for the audible evidence of her distress to cease, it’s simply increasing my sense of uselessness. What the fuck do I say to her? I can hardly tell her everything’s going to be alright. There are literally no words which would help.

I can see in the rearview that her car still belches smoke, but I drive gamely on. At least we keep moving, until suddenly, the engine splutters and dies and we slow to an unplanned halt.

Fuck.

I coast to the side of the road and put it in park. A glance to my side shows me she’s barely registered the unplanned stop. Her nod is barely perceptible when I tell her, “I’ll check under the hood.” I pull the lever, then get out.

Like any male by the side of a broken-down car, I stand, looking down at the engine without a clue as to what’s gone wrong. Even with my mechanic’s eyes, seeing the state it’s in, it could be anything. It all looks so old. It could have just reached the end of its line. Without tools and stripping it completely, there’s no easy fix to be done.

I take out my phone and place a call.

“Grumbler? I’m with Saffie…” Pulling my phone away from my ear, I ignore hiswhat the fuckand thewhere the fuck have you been,and the accusatoryyou just walked out,instead silencing him with my next words. “Saffie, well, she’s no longer pregnant.” After I listen to a few more, but this time understanding,oh fucks,I continue, “I picked her up from the hospital, but we’ve broken down… yeah, her car, not my bike. Can you send the tow truck out?” When he gets my location, I add another request. “I also need the prospects to collect my bike. I left it in the hospital parking lot… Sure, I’ll give them the key when they come to collect the car. I can’t leave her.” Grumbler, full of sincere but unhelpful apologies for the way everything’s turned out, tells me he understands.

I go back to sit beside her, leaving the hood open and the hazard lights on, so anyone can tell we’ve broken down. I’m thankful for small mercies, the battery is still good, the emergency lights are flashing, and at least we’re not on the highway. I’ve managed to get it far enough to the side that cars passing should be able to do so safely enough.

Thank fuck I was here.Saffie, in her state, on her own… I don’t even want to think about what would have happened, or whether she could have coped.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks disinterestedly, holding a sodden tissue to try to mop the tears continuously streaming from her eyes. The state of her car is clearly an inconvenience and the last thing on her mind.

I answer her anyway. “Fuck knows. Could be any one of a number of things.”Or all of them combined.“I’m getting the boys to come tow it in. Your engine looks fucked, Saffie.”

She shrugs as if it doesn’t bother her, and I doubt it does. Not now, not in the scheme of things.

We don’t talk, just sit, waiting. She uses tissue after tissue, but even when the tears begin to dry, she still gives a far too regular sniff and a sob. Luckily, it isn’t long before the tow truck arrives driven by Ross with Kid sitting beside him, along with Curtis and Wrangler behind in the crash truck sent to take back my bike. I notice with relief, and as should be the case, as they’re in cages, none of them are wearing cuts.

“I want to go home.” Saffie seems to only just realise her plans have been interrupted.

“I’ll get you home,” I promise.

Aware she’s probably sore, as well as full of regret or wishes about what might have been, I think for a moment how best to do this, then get out of the car.

After shaking Ross’s hand, I thank him for getting here so fast, then issue my instructions. “You and Kid hook up the car and tow it to the shop, will you?” After he nods, I turn to the prospect and brother who’ve just stepped out of the crash truck and joined us. “Wrangler, can you and Curtis drive Saffie and me back to her apartment, then go get my bike?” When my brother gives a raise and dip of his chin, I pass him my key and tell him where I left it.

All four men spring into action, Curtis helping Ross even though the one-handed man knows exactly what he’s doing having picked up a tow a hundred times, and Kid looking on watching how they do stuff. I wait with Saffie, who’s standing, clutching her purse to her. I want to hold her and comfort her, but now she’s giving offstay away from mevibes, so I just stand next to her. Her face is expressionless, but her eyes, they’re so full of pain I’d give my other leg if it would save her this anguish. But knowing there’s nothing to be said or done, I just give silent support.

As Ross and Kid leave, she watches her car start to move away behind the tow truck as though it’s just one more blow that’s been sent to hurt her.

When Curtis signals he’s ready to leave, I ask her, “You feeling okay, Saffie? Want my help to the truck?”

Like an automaton, she starts walking forward, her movements jerky. Her hands are again wrapped around her stomach, suggesting it’s both mental and physical pain she’s feeling.

The truck’s built for men, not a petite woman. I help her up, my hand on her ass just there to give her a boost, but she jerks away and heaves herself in, the sudden movement being too much for her, and her wince betrays the strain. When I reach for the seat belt, she takes it herself. When I slide in beside her, she moves away.

As I lean forward and give Curtis instructions on how to get to her place, I hear her let out a relieved sigh.Did she expect me to kidnap her and not take her home?Another sign of how little she trusts bikers.

Approaching the block where her apartment is, I don’t miss the way the prospect’s jaw tightens nor the quick backward incredulous glance that he gives me, or the way his eyes meet Wrangler’s.

“You want your bike broughthere?” Wrangler’s voice is tight.

I shudder inwardly, knowing what he’s thinking.Definitely not.“Nah, take it back. When I need a lift home, I’ll call you.”

My words seem to sink in to Saffie’s head. “You’re not… you’re not coming in, Niran.”

I take a deep breath. I’m prepared to fight to the end on this. “Darlin’, you need someone with you. I’m not leaving you alone. Either I keep you company for a bit, or you come back to the clubhouse.” Turning, I see her stiffen at my ultimatum, but I’m relentless. “Which is it to be, Saffie?”

As if realising it would be too easy to kidnap her, outnumbered as she is, she shudders, then says, “I don’t seem to have a choice. You can come in.” The words are all but spat at me.

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