Page 102 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

“Winston?” his wife asks sharply.

“It’s business,” he tells her, equally abruptly.

“Is this true what was happening to Sapphire? Did you know? Is Duke a criminal?”

“I knew.” Bartell gets to his feet and rubs at his balding head. “I didn’t know she was being abused. Duke sent us pictures. As you said, she always looked happy.” He looks at Saffie. “If you’d come to me, I’d have given you protection. But you didn’t, and I swear to you, I never knew.”

“She’s still married to him,” her mom says as if she’s got a one-track mind. “But I suppose you’re thinking of getting another divorce?” She makes it sound as though that’s worse than what Saffie’s been through.

Bartell looks a little unsteady and reaches his hand to the back of a chair to steady himself.

“Winston, sit down. You shouldn’t be overdoing it,” his wife scolds.

“Dad. How are you? Duke said you were ill.”

“He’s got cancer.” Her mom doesn’t sugarcoat it.

“I’m alright.” Bartell brushes it off. “I’ve got years in me yet.”

But the expression on Clarissa’s face says he has not.

Maybe it’s to get the subject off of himself, but Bartell turns to me. “And why are you here?”

“I’m Saffie’s man.” Might as well bite the bullet.

Clarissa covers her mouth. “She’s married.”

“Not for much longer,” I tell them. “Then, when she’s free, I’ll be hoping your daughter agrees to marry me.”

Saffie turns to me with wide eyes, but her mouth curves, and I take it she’s pleased. Although it’s been two weeks, in the bedroom department we’ve messed about, but not taken that final step. I won’t, not until I’m absolutely certain the ghost of Duke won’t come between us. We’ve talked of a future though, and of her being my old lady, but this is the first time I’ve mentioned marriage.

“And who are you?” Bartell asks. “What do you do?”

I could tell him I work as a mechanic, could embellish it by saying I work for myself, which is kind of true in a way. But I don’t. I give it to him straight. “I’m a biker. I’m in a club.”

“No!” Bartell shouts. “No. Just no.” His anguished eyes find Saffie. “Sapphire, leave Duke, yes. But come home to us.”

“Duke will just come in and take her again,” I tell him.

“I’ve got security. He’ll never get past them.”

“I served as a Marine,” I snap. “I could tell you exactly what I think of your security. Within days, hours even, of Saffie coming home, Duke would have her back again.”

“And you think you can protect her?” Winston throws at me. “You?” He sneers as he waves at my crutches.

“My club’s offered her protection.” I shrug.

“Your club?” He rolls his eyes, then points his finger at me, waggling it furiously. “You’re after her inheritance like everyone else.”

As he’s still standing, I want to be upright myself. Awkwardly, I struggle up and balance on the prosthesis, and with the aid of the crutches walk closer to him. “Saffie doesn’t want your money, and neither do I. I understand there’s another relative. Alter your will and leave it to him.”

“It wouldn’t go to you or her anyway,” Bartell sneers.

“No,” I agree, letting him know she keeps no secrets from me. “It would go to a son. But I’ll be damned if we’re going to breed just to keep a lifeline going. Any children Saffie and I have will be free to live as they want, with no ties to an antiquated family stuck in the past, nor have the responsibility of running a criminal enterprise.”

“I’m no criminal,” Bartell objects.

“No?” I glare at him. “Money laundering is okay? Tax evasion?” Yeah, Rascal had found out some shit for me.

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