Page 24 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“How have you been?” Mary asks politely, trying to draw me out as she discreetly addresses the elephant in the room.

“I…”

But whatever I was about to say is interrupted by a commotion in the hallway outside my apartment. Loud voices, then a thump against my door, followed by fists hitting the wood gets Niran launching to his feet.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” he yells, opening the door, then closing it behind him as he disappears.

My widened eyes stare at the closed door in horror. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Niran can look after himself,” she tells me quickly, but I can sense her unease. “This really isn’t a good place for you to live, Saffie.”

I shrug, still concerned about my friend, but finding some solace in that nothing bad has happened to me.Yet.I keep my comings and goings to a minimum, my head down, and don’t get involved in anything that I see. “I just stay out of everything, Mary. It’s less dangerous than you’d believe.”But then no one had actually banged on my door before.While I try to act nonchalant, inwardly I admit, that had scared me.

To my relief, when the door opens again, it’s Niran using the key that I’d given to him. As if he heard what Mary was saying, he utters a warning himself.

“Hell, Saffie. That was a fuckin’ drug deal gone south. A demented druggie was on the wrong floor, wanting to take it out on his dealer.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in the way that he does and shakes his head. “I wish you didn’t live here.”

I don’t much like it myself, but beggars don’t get much choice. “I’m fine, Niran.” I go to mention especially now he’s staying with me, but I’m too well aware that he’s sleeping on the floor, and that can’t continue for long, so I keep my mouth shut.To date, have I just been lucky? Is someone breaking in only a matter of when?The incident has rattled me.

“You can’t think straight here,” Mary starts, her frowning face turning up at a thump and a roar of rage from directly overhead. Idly, I wonder whether that’s where the drug-crazed person has found the right man to take it out on. She shudders, glances at Niran, then suggests, “Look, why don’t you get away for a while? I’d love for you to stay with me and Grumbler. We’ve got a spare room.”

I shake my head and try to refuse politely. It’s the worst thing I can think of. I know Mary carries a worry that her pregnancy might also come to an end, but in the meantime, they’ll be happy prospective parents. It would kill me to constantly compare their situation to mine. “I wouldn’t dream of imposing, Mary.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition—”

“Mary,” Niran says sharply. “Perhaps staying with you isn’t what she needs.” He’s right, how could I think straight when I see her preparing her nursery? For a moment, a wave of sadness rolls over me, and I almost miss what he says next. “Fuck, I wish that she could stay with me, but I haven’t got my own place.”

“There are spare rooms at the clubhouse.” Mary’s eyes gleam. “Maybe she could stay there? Then she’d be close to you, Niran, and I could come around every day. And there’s Eva…” For some reason she looks at him knowingly.

I start to consider whether changing location would help me decide when their actual words filter through to me.Clubhouse?My heart skips a beat.Surely not. It’s too much of a coincidence. It’s only my experience that makes me think of the only type of place that matches that description.

“What did you say?” I hold my breath, certain my mental leap must be wrong, but needing the confirmation.

“That here isn’t the place for you, not right now,” Niran says unhelpfully, looking like he’s considering Mary’s suggestion.

“No, the clubhouse,” I prompt, hoping there’s something wrong with my ears. Or if that’s what they said, that it’s not the type I was only too used to.

“The clubhouse?” He frowns in confusion and shrugs. “Sure, it’s not ideal, but it’s nothere.It might not be quiet, but you’re used to that.” His eyes shoot to the ceiling in emphasis where some kind of argument is still going on. “But my brothers would treat you with respect.”

Brothers?What. The. Fuck?Time stops. My blood chills in my veins, my heart misses a beat. My lungs cease taking in oxygen.No, no,I’m internally screaming.They can’t mean what I think they do.Words come into my memory;I’ll get one of my brothers to pick me up.At the time, I’d just assumed he has a big family. But brothers can have more than one meaning, in the context I’m used to, one that’s chilling.

Shivering, still hoping I’m way off the mark, I enquire with trepidation, “What clubhouse?”

“Oh,” Mary says airily. “My old man and Niran are in a motorcycle club. It’s their clubhouse—”

I launch myself to my feet.Why hadn’t I seen this before? Why hadn’t I guessed Grumbler was a road name?Niran had never worn a cut and had always arrived in a truck.He’s been deceiving me.“Get out of here, now!” I scream.

Both my unwelcome visitors stay where they are, looking shocked, exchanging worried glances with each other.

“Get out! Get out! Get out!” A loud banging comes at the paper-thin wall of my apartment, but that doesn’t deter me. “Get out of my home, now.” I’m shaking, my stomach’s rolling with a fear so intense it makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.Has Niran been playing me all this time?

Stunned that they’re not moving, and becoming more afraid, I glance for a weapon of some kind. Spying my phone, I snatch it up, key in the code, tap in three numbers and wave it threateningly. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Whoa.” Niran’s on his feet now, looking worriedly at Mary then in utter consternation my way. “Saffie, listen to me.” His hands are moving as though to soothe a spooked horse.

There’s no pacifying me. “No, you listen to me!” I scream.

“Saffie—we’re friends, aren’t we?”

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