Page 62 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

I don’t expect him to have an answer, but he does. “Because she wants your undivided attention, which you can’t give, spending half your time at work, and the nights with your woman.”

I have an immense amount of respect for Dart. It was he who’d originally approached me three years back, and it was his suggestion I should join the Devils. At the time, I’d been wary of joining what was clearly an all-White club, but he’d read the situation correctly, and knew the brothers wouldn’t give a damn about the colour of my skin. I have tremendous respect for his judgement. Which leads me to wonder, is he right, now? I grimace, knowing I have to at least give his theory merit.

“You know what will happen if she does anything like this again, don’t you?” He poses it as a question, but I hear the unspoken threat within.

I nod, knowing only too well. No woman, family or not, can cause trouble amongst the members. Or prospective ones, come to that.

She’s apparently made an unfounded accusation. Surely, she knew I wouldn’t leave it like that? I’d already punched Kid, for fuck’s sake, and was prepared to do far worse to him.

Damn it!

“I’ll speak to her, Dart.” I start to turn away, then turn back. “For your information, I’ll be here more now. Saffie and I have decided to cool things for a while. Kid?” I call out to the prospect, gaining his wary attention. Nodding my head toward his face, I instruct, “Best get some ice on that.”

His sharp look is penetrating, but I don’t give him more. Instead, I stomp my way back into the clubhouse, roaring Cyn’s name.

“She left a while back with Salem,” Snips informs me. His head tilts. “Problems?”

I don’t waste my breath explaining, just turn on my heel and stride through the clubhouse, exiting through the kitchen and taking the fastest route to the second hangar where Salem has his customisation business.

Sure enough, Cyn’s seated at the front desk. She’s shuffling paperwork. Hearing me approach, she looks up.

Placing my hands on the desk, I loom over her. “Never, ever, fuckin’ lie to me again.”

She rears back, and her eyes go wide and innocent.

So close I know she can feel my heated breath on her face, I expand, “I’ve spoken to Kid. It was all you, not him.”

“He’s the liar,” she fires back, her cheeks reddening.

“Got a witness that says otherwise, Cyn.”

“You believe the prospects more than your sister?” Her wide-eyed look of pretend innocence doesn’t fool me at all.

Rolling my eyes when she all but admits she knew Curtis was there by her use of the plural, I tell her through gritted teeth, knowing now that I’m convinced and I mean it, “Yes.”

Her mouth snaps shut, she looks down, then to the side, anywhere it seems rather than to meet my eyes. Then she shrugs. “Maybe I misunderstood what he was saying.”

Just like that my rage is back with a vengeance. “You’re fuckin’ lucky you’re not packing your bags this morning. That shit won’t fly here, darlin’. You got that?”

“Niran, I…” Her voice trails off.

Salem appears from the back. “You ordered those parts yet, Cyn?” He gives me a chin lift then narrows his eyes. “What the fuck is going on?”

Shaking my head, my accusing gaze still on my sister, I give him an honest reply. “I don’t have a fuckin’ clue, Brother. But you keep an eye on her. She’s fuckin’ trouble.”

I need to get out of here. Need to think on this shit. Think about what more Cyn expects from me. Do I owe her? Fuck no. I should I get her to pack up and leave.

Difficult? Mom didn’t tell me the half of it.

I’m not cut out to be a blood brother. And, after Saffie’s dismissal last night, I’m not qualified to be a friend.

Chapter Twenty-One

Niran

Time drags when you want it to pass. Like when you’re a kid waiting for Christmas which never seems to speed up and come. Four weeks feels like a fucking long time.

For the first few days, I’m hopeful Saffie will come around. Then I start accepting this time apart will only give her space to do what she needed to do, to come to terms with the tragedy that had happened to her, for her to learn how to wear the cloak of her sadness without it overwhelming her. By finding herself on her own, she might be learning how to cope. If I give her some time, she might accept me back in her life.

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