Page 56 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

It’s the crux of the matter, so all I can do is nod my head. There’s no future for us, probably not even as friends. There’s no point in prolonging this.

“I think you should go now, Niran.”

He stands. Pacing, he goes to the wall and leans his head against it, then bangs his fist gently on the plaster. “I want more for you, Saffie. I want you out of this shithole of an apartment. I can set you up with a place if you want, and I want to be there beside you.” When I make a sound, he turns and holds up his hands. “And my wants don’t end there. I’d also want you to meet my family, my friends. And in time, I’d probably ask you to be my old lady.”

As firmly as I can, I state, “That’s not whatIwant.”

He grimaces, takes out his key ring, and once again is handing me back the key it had seemed easier to give him. “Anytime, Saffie. Any fuckin’ time, day or night. If you need me, you call. If you want to talk to me, I’ll be there on the end of the line.”

“I need to not need you.” Inside, I’m breaking. Inside, I don’t want to be on my own. But as I suspected, he’d mentioned me as an old lady, and as I’m determined never to be property again, I’ve got to cut all strings. Otherwise, he’ll destroy me. “Don’t ring, don’t check up on me, Niran. If… if I do break and need saving, I promise I’ll call you, okay?”

He sounds anguished. “You’re asking too much of me.”

Not as much as I’m asking of myself. Bowing my head, I wipe the tears away. He waits in silence.

“A month,” I suddenly say, as a vision of life without Niran in it flits through my head. It’s not a nice picture. “I’ll call you in a month, or if I don’t, you can ring me. I’ll have my head on straighter.”And what? He’ll still be a biker, and I’ll still be me.

“One month,” he reluctantly agrees. His eyes shutter. “But Saffie, I’ll still be a biker.” He echoes my thoughts exactly. “Hell, I never thought the day would come when I hate my fuckin’ cut. It’s part of me, though, every bit as much as my prosthesis. Maybe you’re right and it is a crutch, but I’d fall without it.”

The hurt in his eyes makes me want to take my words back, but I can’t influence how he lives his life, just as he can’t force me to accept it.

What does giving us a month help? Nothing will change. I won’t get over my total fear of bikers. Sure, Niran’s great, but the rest of his brothers? Nothing he can say would reassure me they weren’t the same as Duke and the rest of the Crazy Wolves’ rejects from civilised society. Niran’s the exception, not the rule.

“A month.” He states it as if the timeframe is the only reason he’ll leave today.

He glances around the room, then goes into the bathroom and collects the few items he’d brought over. Finally, he walks across to me.

“I fuckin’ hate this, Saffie. But you’re in the driver’s seat.” Gently, carefully, he leans down, and his lips caress my forehead. When he straightens, he pulls his shoulders back and steps to the door.

“You want to take that?” I call out, spying the sleeping bag he’d forgotten.

He swings back, his eyes going to where I’m pointing, then a half-grin settles on his face.

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll find another needy homeless person.”

Nothing gets past him, does it?

The small upward curve his parting words had brought to my lips turns downward immediately after he closes the door. The apartment is quiet, and emptier than it was before.

What have I done?

I stand, pacing, with my hands clenching then opening.

What choice have I got?

Niran has no idea how much Duke hurt me. It wasn’t one rape, it was constant, horrendous abuse for five long years. I doubt there’s enough therapy in the world that could repair me. Duke had completely destroyed my faith in men, and especially those who ride motorcycles.

If Niran had any other occupation, then I’d have held on to him with both hands. But he’s a biker, and that’s a complete no-no for me.

I couldn’t allow myself to be stupid for a second time. Once was enough.More than fucking enough.

Chapter Nineteen

Saffie

Five years ago

“When are you going to introduce me to your friends?” I ask, bouncing on my tiptoes, hardly able to contain my happiness as I admire the impressive new ring on my finger when we step out of the courthouse. The diamond flashes almost blindingly in the brilliant summer sunlight. The sight makes me feel excited and light, and not because it had cost a fortune. I had no idea nor cared whether it had or had not, my delight was because it had been chosen by the man at my side and represented my future.

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