Page 148 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

“If you were a man, you’d already be dead,” Lost states coldly.

“I’m sorry,” she wails. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.” Tears fall from her eyes as she shakes her head. “I thought maybe Niran might get into a fight over Saffie, but tortured and almost killed? If I’d known that, I’d never have said anything.”

“An MC runs on loyalty and respect,” Lost informs her, his voice monotone as he retakes his seat. “You betrayed us.”

Cyn again looks behind her to Sharp, but his face gives nothing away. “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to talk to Susie. She was my only friend here.”

For the first time, Sharp speaks. “And why was that, Cyn?”

Cyn’s openly crying now, tears running down her cheeks. I don’t have any sympathy for her. “Because I’m a brat,” she sobs. “I was thinking of myself, not anyone else.” Her words sound practiced, I wonder if Sharpshooter has schooled her. She becomes fascinated by the gun once again. “I’ll go home.”

“It’s a bit late for that now,” Lost tells her.

She gulps, wipes her tears with the back of her hand, sniffs loudly, then turns to me and says pleadingly, “Niran, I’ll do anything. Anything.”

I stare at her impassively.

“Please.” Her voice has become a whisper. “I didn’t know. Honestly. I didn’t know I was putting you in danger. It was the last thing I wanted.”

Suddenly, I can’t stay detached anymore. I sit forward, accidentally knocking my crutches to the floor. They crash as they land as if for emphasis. “Saffie and I were this close to death.” I hold my forefinger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart. “I might still lose my foot, Cyn. If I can’t ride, I lose my club. Have you any fuckin’ idea of the damage you’ve done?”

She swallows rapidly. “I don’t know how I can make it up to you.”

“I can’t stand to look at you.” I turn my head pointedly, instead staring at the Satan’s Devils’ insignia hanging behind Lost’s desk.

“Nevertheless,” Lost states, bringing my attention back to him, “she’s your sister. It was you who was wronged. You get the final say in what happens to her.”

Fuck it. Fuck it to hell and back. How can I say kill her?

Lost gives me a moment, then takes his eyes from me, and they land on the man standing behind Cyn instead. “Sharp? Take her out of here. Get a prospect to watch her.”

Sharp nods and puts his hand on Cyn’s shoulder. “Come.”

“Niran,” she says, pleadingly. “Niran, please…”

I refuse to look at her.

“Come,” Sharp repeats.

He pulls her up and takes her out. I hear her sobs slowly fade as he leads her down the corridor. Within moments, he’s back.

As he takes the seat Cyn vacated, Lost raises an eyebrow toward him.

“Cyn’s a civilian,” he starts in her defence. “She has no fuckin’ idea how an MC works. At most, she expected Niran to get a beatdown, and Saffie to return to her ex. I believe she’s truly contrite.”

“Fuckin’ contrite?” I scoff.

Lost raps the table. “I’ve had it up to here,” he raises his hand to his chin, “with bitches. Make your decision, Niran. We end her or send her home. Your choice.”

I cannot sanction the death of my sister. “Send her—”

“Or I keep her,” Sharp interrupts.

“That’s a big ask, Brother.”

“I know, Prez.” Sharpshooter sits back and stretches out his legs. “But I think everyone deserves a chance. She’s broken, but that doesn’t mean she’s not fixable. If you send her home, she’s not going to get better.”

“And we’ll be sending her away with fuck knows what secrets she’s learned about us. She listens at doors,” Lost reminds us.

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