Page 97 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“How the fuck was she getting her mail? Was she going back to collect it in person?”

Token rolls his eyes. “No need to, Niran. How much snail mail do you receive? Nowadays most shit is sent electronically.”

“Rent records?” Lost presses. “That might be somewhere she’s slipped up.”

Token barks a laugh. “That apartment block? The fuckin’ landlord doesn’t want records any more than she does.”

“Taxes?” Lost rubs at his forehead again.

“Last address. As well as her medical insurance. That’s part of what I was doing last night. Checking absolutely everything I could think of.”

“So all he knows is that she’s in San Diego,” I point out, thinking maybe she is safe for now.

“It’s a big fuckin’ city.” Lost seems to be on my wavelength.

Token’s eyes soften. “You certain you and she aren’t going to make a go of it, Niran?” I give a sharp shake of my head. “Pity.” He purses his lips for a moment. “Anyway, after our conversation yesterday, I put out all the feelers I could.” He sits forward again, this time lifting his laptop and balancing it on his knees. “I tried to put myself in Duke’s head. We already know he’s willing to offer money for information. If I were looking for someone, I’d post their picture all over the web, reward attached. I found nothing.”

“Good news?” I could do with some.

He shrugs. “How else would he find her? Yeah, for now, even at her apartment, I think she’s safe. At least in the short term. I can’t think he’s given up, but my reading is, he’s not close.” He glances at Lost. “I’m getting on okay with Stormy, surprisingly. I know Utah wanted her with us as a precaution, but we can’t keep her prisoner. They must understand that. I’ll update him and impress how we need to get her a new cast-iron identity straight away.”

“And this time not fuck it up,” I blurt out. “Do you really trust Utah to be able to do that?”

Token looks at me sharply. “Hey, Utah’s tight. This isn’t their problem. It was the Freedom Trail’s system that proved to be the weak link, and they for certain won’t be getting any more info on Saffie.”

“Presumably they know their system’s vulnerable?” Lost demands, his eyebrow raised. “Wouldn’t want this happen to any other women they protect.”

“Or men, or kids,” Token corrects. “And yeah, of fuckin’ course. Stormy’s dealing with that end of things. Though, I have to admit, it wasn’t a novice that was able to hack in.”

“Saffie said Duke’s man Grit is ex-fed,” I inform him.

“Yeah?” Token’s eyes rest on me, and his head dips and rises. “That makes sense.”

Lost sighs, this time with relief. “I don’t like letting down another club when they made a direct request of us, but it seems we’re covered. Of course, we wouldn’t be in this shit if Niran hadn’t fucked up and made us look like fuckin’ amateurs.”

He doesn’t know the half of it. I’m still reeling. I’d fucking offered to leave the club for her, and she didn’t give that suggestion the time of day.

Maybe it’s a mistake, but I decide to come clean. “It wasn’t just me implying that she’d be my property, Prez, that sent her running away. Before I left her last night, I’d already taken that back. I gave her another option. Our last words were about…” I pause, summoning up the strength to admit, “me leaving the club and disappearing with her.”

For a moment there’s silence.

Then, “You like the bitch that fuckin’ much?” comes from Token, while Lost looks incensed.

“You lost your fuckin’ mind, Brother? What do you think the Satan’s Devils are? Boy-fuckin’-scouts, where you can dip your toe into the water and walk out if find you don’t like it? No one fuckin’ leaves the club, except in a box. You know that. It’s what you signed up for.”

I wince at the anger in his voice. “I was hoping you’d make an exception.”

Lost, normally a genteel and calm man, smashes his hand onto the desk. “You fuckin’ know what happened to this club, Niran. We lost nine fuckin’ men. Did you stop to think your leaving might be taken as a betrayal? That your brothers weren’t fuckin’ good enough?”

“It’s not about you or them,” I defend myself, rasping out, “It’s about Saffie.”

“Club before bitches,” Token spits out with disgust.

I glare at him, then turn back to Lost. “What if it were Patsy?”

Lost stills, a flicker of something akin to sympathy flashes across his face, then it’s gone. “You go ahead with this plan of yours, and a fuckin’ beatdown is the least you can expect. And don’t expect the brothers to go easy on you.”

My suggestion to Saffie had been made on impulse, and it’s true I hadn’t for one moment considered the effect it would have on this particular chapter given its so recent past. Nine men had for one reason or another thought this club wasn’t good enough, or not in its then incarnation. I hadn’t taken into account the effect me turning my back might have on my brothers.

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