Page 137 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

The last is directed to someone behind me. Swinging around, I see Dart has got his phone to his ear but puts it away as he approaches.

Glancing at Duke, he smirks, then says loudly to a couple walking past. “Asshole’s had one too many.” He goes and helps Swift with the near deadweight of her load. “Truck will be here shortly,” he tells her, then looks at me. “Your man will be fuckin’ pleased to see you.”

As disbelief and relief send a wave of dizziness through me, I bend over, placing my hands on my knees and breathing deeply. Now Duke’s in the hands of the Satan’s Devils MC, he’ll no longer be a problem to me. It’s going to take more than a minute for that to sink in. I straighten as I remember today’s not all about me. “What’s happening to Mary?”

Dart begins to shake his head, but at that moment his phone rings. “Lost.” He greets his prez.

“We’ve got Mary.” Lost’s voice booms so loud even I can hear it. Oh, thank God.

Dart’s more cautious. “She okay?”

There’s a snort on the line. “She’s fine, but I’m not so sure about Grumbler. He just delivered his son by the side of the road.”

“Say again?” Dart splutters out while Swift and I shoot looks at each other.

“Yeah, you heard right. Grumbler’s a fuckin’ midwife. They’re on their way to the hospital now to get checked out, but Theodore Jack appears to be fine.”

Theodore Jack?That must be the baby. What a cute name.

“It’s good to hear some good fuckin’ news, Prez. What about Susie? You got her?”

“Sure have. She’s on her way to the brig.”

Swift grins at Dart, then at me. It takes a moment for the implications to set in. Duke’s been captured, and so too has Susie.

As tension leaves my body, tears prick at the back of my eyes as I start to believe it’s over and I’m finally free. And, of course, I’m overjoyed about Mary.

Am I jealous of her and her baby? Of course I am. But I can’t feel resentful of every pregnant woman and baby that I see. Mary and Grumbler deserve their happy ending.

Dart had ended the call after he’d had a few more words with Lost.

“What did he weigh?” I’m genuinely interested, a sign I’m beginning to heal.

Dart shrugs as if to say, why ask me?

“He was six pounds,” Swift informs me, putting away her own phone. As Dart looks curiously her way, she raises and lowers her shoulders. “Honor hacked into the hospital database.”

Dart snorts. “Does Utah do anything the easy way, you know, like texting Grumbler and asking?”

His question starts me laughing, finding his comment far more amusing than it warrants. As the sound coming out of my mouth surprises me, I realise it’s a relief of tension, a feeling that from this point on, everything’s going to be okay.

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