Page 6 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

Mary recently turned forty-eight and is six months pregnant. If the medics are to be believed, that’s pushing it to deliver a healthy baby. It hadn’t been planned, of course, and had been a surprise to them both. It still amuses me how folks their age can be caught out by, of all things, an out-of-date condom.

I think Grumbler had been in a state of shock when he originally found out, but he and Mary had been pragmatic, continuing with full knowledge of all the risks that came with a late pregnancy. Now he’s fully onboard with the idea, there’s nothing more he wants than his kid to be alright, and his wife to come through safely. Unfortunately, there are risks that can’t be ignored or discounted.

“What’s the doctor say? She happy with how it’s going?” All of us are following the situation carefully, prepared to give the couple all the support they need.

“Doc’s keeping a close eye on her. Mary’s got another checkup on Monday. As you know, she goes regularly. But so far, so good, Brother. So far, so fuckin’ good.” Another quick glance behind at his wife as if to make sure he’s still telling the truth, then there’s an abrupt change of subject. “You get that beast tamed then?”

We shoot the shit for a few moments about the bike I’ve spent the evening fixing up, then, one of Grumbler’s frequent checks over his shoulder has him narrowing his eyes.

“Mary’s tired. I don’t want her to overdo it. I’m going to get her home.”

“You do that.” I grin. “Take care of them both, Brother.”

With a hefty back slap, he’s gone.

Grumbler, Mary, and Alicia aren’t the only ones leaving. As though a signal has been given that it’s the end of the evening—for anyone other than members, that is—Dart, the VP, and Lost, the prez, along with their women, Alex and Patsy have followed fast on the tails of Grumbler and Mary. Now that the clubhouse is empty of old ladies and civilians, the club girls and some of the hangarounds who’d stayed in the background while the band had been playing, take their place in the limelight.

Deuce, patched in a year before me, sidles up to Cindy, clearly ready to commandeer her for an hour or so. Tits and Pearl make their way toward Salem and Pennywise, who each pull a half-naked girl onto their laps. My lips curve at the way they manage to carry on their conversation without seemingly pausing for breath.

Eva, the oldest, makes her way across the room. She’s heading my way.

When I first came to the clubhouse, I admit it was with a sense of outrage that I found club girls in residence. Women, whose only purpose in life is to make themselves available for any man to use them. In the beginning, I wondered whether I should report the club for keeping sex slaves, but it soon became clear that they were here by choice. While I still can’t fathom why any woman would choose this life, I’ve spoken enough to them to know they rate it better than working on a checkout or being a street walker.

During my time, I’ve watched them. Far from believing they’re not worth much else than earning their keep on their backs, the girls here take pride in the services they provide, going so far as to chase hopeful hangarounds off. It makes me chuckle at times when I think how possessive they are about their bikers.

Then there are others—hangarounds, we call them—girls from town coming to club parties looking for a good time. Several of them are here at the moment, often coming when the band is playing, a free chance to hear live music. I watch as a gaggle of giggling girls gather around Dusty. Yeah, the good-looking fucker’s going to get lucky tonight. Idly, I wonder which one he’ll choose. Bones, sniffing and wiping his nose, approaches optimistically.

Uh oh. One is pulling free of the throng and coming straight for me. Narrowing my eyes, I brace.

“Get lost, Susie,” Eva snaps, her arrival coinciding with the hangaround’s. She backs up her words by placing her hand on my arm in a gesture of ownership.

Susie bites her lip and looks up at me pleadingly, but I give a violent shake of my head. I’ve been there, done that, and had immediately regretted it. Hell, I didn’t even remember it, just woke up with a sore and obviously well-used cock and her lying next to me looking like the cat that had gotten the cream.

If it had been that good, wouldn’t I have remembered?

While I didn’t want an encore, she had, and for some reason believed she deserved it. But anything she thought I owed after that night was all in her head. In fact, I think it was me who had been wronged and taken advantage of, though I have nothing and no way to prove it.

Yet I was the man, the one assumed to be the aggressor. Despite not believing it was my fault, I’d let her down gently. Did that put her off wanting a repeat performance? Like fuck.

“Susie,” Eva growls. She literally snarls at her. I choke back my laugh, and turn my head to the bar, vaguely conscious that Susie’s heeded the warning as the scent of her overpowering perfume recedes. While remorseful for my part, I have no qualms sending her off. She’ll soon be warming the bed of someone else with an eye to wearing their patch.

Before I became a Devil, I was a Marine, and sure, I got more than my share of casual fucks. I’m no prude, but there’s something distasteful in going with a girl who’s just been with one of my brothers, and after me, will probably move on to someone else immediately without waiting another sunrise and sunset to pass.

That night with Susie? I’d been in one of my despondent moods—thankfully now occurring less frequently—and she’d caught me when I was down low, and simultaneously high on a bottle of Jack. I suppose I must have grabbed at the fuck to bring me out of my funk. I hadn’t a clue what I’d been doing or thinking until I woke up with her in my bed. A bed I soon kicked her out of.

As a prospect, I was forbidden to touch the whores, then as a member, I could take my fill. But I didn’t—with the one notable exception. That’s a mistake for which I’m still paying. For some reason, Susie keeps trying to get her hooks into me. My drunk self must have been quite impressive.

I’m no saint, I’ve hooked up occasionally in town, but casual isn’t what I’m looking for. Sometimes, though, nature drives a man to take what’s on offer, but I’m not tempted by the club whores. Eva and the club girls know the score.

At the end of the day though, they see me as one of theirs, and don’t want anyone poaching. That’s why Eva had rescued me. The thought makes me smile. I could have spoken for myself and told her to get lost, but why should I when I had Eva to do it for me?

“How are you doing, Niran?” The lightening of her tone confirms Susie’s disappeared.

“Good. You?” I respond, as Eva pulls up a stool and sits down.

“I’m okay.” The wipe of her hand down her face belies her certainty. I raise an eyebrow to encourage her. Seeing I’ve seen through her act, she drops the fake lightheartedness and grimaces. “Lost a kid today. Cancer.” She grimaces. “We knew it was coming, but it’s still hard, you know?”

Eva’s the exception within the ranks of the club girls. While one of their number, she’s also a mom who amicably shares parenting with her ex, as well as being a nurse, and a fucking good one at that. But when her ex has her son and she’s not at the hospital, she’s at the club, working on her back. She’s a conundrum I can’t quite work out. Why does she do it? Fuck knows.

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