Page 71 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“Your woman sound?”

Lost snorts. “Sometimes I think she’s got a better head on her shoulder than I have, and not only that, as you know, she’s been under witness protection herself.”

“What’s siccing a fuckin’ bitch on her going to do to help?”

Lost’s face goes apoplectic, but Snatcher’s taken it on himself to call Stormy out. “Have some fuckin’ respect, Storm.”

To my surprise, Stormy backs down. “Sorry, Lost. I sometimes slip back into my old ways.” He sighs. “All I remember is Patsy running off to take the heat off her kids and the club. But that shows she’s got spunk, and if that’s half what my own old lady has got, it’s a good call and she’ll do the job.”

Lost states firmly, “She trusts the club and can vouch for us, and I can vouch for her. Patsy’s not only my ol’ lady, but her son is a prospect, her daughter’s married to Ink from Colorado, and they’ve just had a child. She’s club through and through. Once she’s gained Saffie’s confidence, she can bring her into the fold. I’ve no doubt she can do it.”

It’s a good idea. I harbour no hesitation about the first old lady’s abilities. And if she fails, I’ll drag Saffie back here myself. Force her to see we’re different.Yeah, like that’s not going to confirm her view of what an MC is.While I’d rather it was me dealing with Saffie, I have to admit, Lost’s idea has benefits, and once she’s here and has an insight into how we run our club, maybe I can take over.

“Right,” Snatcher starts. “You deal with Saffie and get her under your protection. Token will make contact and try and get them off the trail. We’ll keep digging and see how they figured her alias out and how close they’ve got. You keep her undercover while we get new papers and ID sorted, then plug whatever the fuck hole we’ve got somewhere.”

“Sure,” Token answers quickly. “Er, I’m confident in my skills, but this is a matter of life and death. Stormy, any problem with me keeping in contact, and picking your brain?”

“No problem, Brother. I’ll set up a closed comms channel between the both of us.”

Token grins. “You gonna tell me how I can send messages direct to your screen?”

It had been a bone of contention for a while, when Stormy had managed to get under Token’s more than adequate defences and do just that. I wonder how the other man will answer.

“Share trade secrets? Why the hell not? We all bleed Devils’ blood.”

As Lost, Dart and I exchange glances, I note I’m not the only one surprised. Token though, well he’s beaming as if he’d just won the lottery.

On that positive note, the call is ended.

I leave the meeting, my head spinning with all I’d heard. When I allow myself to dwell on the things Saffie must have suffered, I rush to the heads, only just making them before I vomit.

Saffie.Fuck.Five years.How could I have ever thought I could fix her? How much time does it take to get over something like that? And top of which, she’s just lost her baby.

I’m impressed as fuck that she keeps on breathing.

I splash my face, rinse out my mouth, then stare at my face in the mirror.

Saffie has very good reason to be wary of anyone wearing an MC cut and I don’t see how she’ll ever get over it.

Would she ever see beyond the patch on my back? Would she accept we’re trying to help?

And lastly, however much I want to personally keep her safe, she might not give me a chance.

And who could fucking blame her?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Saffie

It’s been almost a month since I ended my baby’s life. A lonely month with nothing growing inside me. I feel empty, wondering what’s worth living for.

Each day, I regret having to make the decision I had, but I don’t doubt it was the right one. Time’s a healer they say, but I’m not so sure. I’ll never forget the dream I once held within me. If it were possible, I hate Duke more and more. Vying with my own guilty feelings, I’m convinced he caused the harm to my baby, before I even knew it was growing inside me.

It’s also a month since I last saw Niran.I miss him.Why, oh why did he have to be a biker? Why did he have to be so wedded to his club? More times than I can count, I go to pick up the phone, then pull back my hand, knowing he won’t change, and I can’t.

I’m lonely, longing to hear a friendly voice. When I’m not at work, I stay in the apartment, living my life through the sounds of my neighbours—a new couple has moved in next door, newlyweds who have sex a lot, while I lie in my bed, knowing I’m no longer a fully functioning woman and unknowing whether I ever will be again.

Sex is a weapon. Duke used it to hurt me. Sex with my previous ex was pleasant at first but ended up being just a chore.

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