Page 1 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter One

Niran

Idon’t have to ask the identity of the man who’s calling the shots, there’s only one person who’d burst into Saffie’s apartment and talk to her using his fists. The infamous Duke.

Time seems to freeze as the man called Slit holds a gun to my head and my mind fills with rapid-fire questions.

How the fuck did he find her? Why didn’t I know he was close? Why had all the warnings we’d put in place failed?

Instead of my life, it’s the last few minutes that flash before my eyes. Kid entering, all light-hearted and smiling, carrying those pizza boxes that now lie ruined on the floor next to his dead body.

Kid, the young man with so many hopes and dreams, and yet who’d been given no time to achieve them. I hadn’t been quick enough. If I’d been faster, nimbler, maybe I could have got the drop on them, but my fuckin’ leg had given way, sending me crashing to my knees. Vulnerable, Slit had been able to overpower me. Some fuckin’ saviour I am. I can’t even protect the woman I vowed to, nor the prospect who’d barely begun to live his life. The only mercy was his death had been quick, and I doubt Kid had time to consider his impending doom.

Now I’m staring at the wrong end of a gun, seething at the senseless killing of the prospect while Duke uses his fists on Saffie. I can barely contain my rage, but control it I have to if there’s to be any chance of helping her now. A clear head is required to come up with a plan, though it’s a long shot to find anything that might work. The one aim I have left in life is to fulfil my promise of bringing every man present as painful a death as I can make it.

But the gun to my head suggests getting my vengeance may require me crawling up out of hell. So be it. I’ll be bringing the Devil back with me. One thing’s for certain, they are not going to escape what’s coming to them. I’ll fucking haunt them for the rest of their miserable lives.

Closing my eyes momentarily, I apologise to Kid for putting him in this situation, and then reopen them, knowing I’m going to put on the performance of my life, and that I’ve got to sound convincing. I’m no use to Duke, it’s Saffie he’s come for, and once he takes her, her life isn’t going to be worth living.

They’ve already killed Kid without blinking an eye, not even bothering to ask his name. I’m facing the same sentence unless I come up with something fast. I can’t afford to die, can’t lose my chance to make Duke pay for all the times he’s hurt her, both then and now. Every blow, every punch, every kick, every pain he ever caused her will be paid back with the type of interest that would make any loan shark blink.

He’ll wish he was dead long before I end him.

But I’ve got to get on his right side first, and even then, there’s a high risk my plan won’t work.

When Saffie’s curled up in a ball of pain, he loses interest in her, and now turns his attention my way.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks me directly. “Why are you with my ol’ lady? You fuckin’ her? Oh fuck it, I don’t even care.” He nods at the man holding the gun to my head. “Just kill the fuckin’ nigger. I don’t want him breathing the same air.”

I hear the gun cocking and know I have a split second for him to change his mind. “Hold up,” I speak fast. “Let’s not be hasty here. I’m the reason you found her.”

From her position on the floor, Saffie, horrified, stares at me. I force my eyes away from the horror and betrayal in hers as I take the calculated gamble that someone’s either been feeding him information, or could have dropped clues for Grit to find—the man who Duke seems to look to for information.

At least I’ve got his attention. Duke holds up his hand, indicating a stay of execution, but I don’t get elated. There’s no guarantee anything will work. At his raised eyebrow, I give him more, starting by answering his questions.

“The name’s Niran. I ride with the Satan’s Devils MC.”

He eyes me suspiciously. “Where’s your fuckin’ cut?”

I nod to the back of the door where I’d automatically hung it when I’d walked in. Saffie’s triggered by that piece of leather, so I’d taken it off to help her see me as just a man. Now Duke walks over and examines it.

“Satan’s Devils wouldn’t help the Crazy Wolves,” he murmurs, half to himself, but loud enough for me to hear.

I treat it as a question that needs answering. “Maybe not,” I agree. “But I would. The Devils are a fuckin’ pansy club. I should never have joined them.” Sneering, I add, “They don’t deserve to wear the one-percenter patch. Fuckin’ club’s all about legit business.”

“And you want easy money?” Duke doesn’t sound impressed.

“I want an interesting fuckin’ life. One where I can act like a fuckin’ man.”

Duke snorts. “I don’t believe you. It wasn’t you I got my information from, was it, Grit?”

The man named Grit, who up to now has done and said nothing, shakes his head. “Nah, VP. It was a bitch.”

A bitch. With those two words, he’s given me more information than I could have hoped for. Duke didn’t stumble across Saffie by accident, and not through any efforts of his own or faults of hers. Betrayal burns in my gut, as the gender limits who the traitor could be. It’s either the woman who wants me as her old man, or the woman that’s supposed to be on my side. My own fucking sister. I discount the sweet butts who wouldn’t dare cross the Devils.

Susie or Cyn. Whichever it is, they’re dead. Fuck, I hope it wasn’t Cyn. The knowledge that it could be threatens to send me off track, when having my head firmly in the game is the only thing that might save me. Garnering all the acting skills I possess, I huff, which isn’t easy with Slit still weighing me down, and roll my eyes.

“And where do you think she was getting her information from? Don’t know about your club, but women in ours don’t get to know club business.”

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