Page 25 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

She might not know it, but her every move is being watched. If it weren’t for me spotting that camera, I might have been tempted to go in and speak to her, now everyone else appears to be asleep. If that’s what they’re waiting for, they’re going to be disappointed. I’ve too much self-control to risk everything now.

The room I’m supposed to be guarding is opposite me. At my back is a door, with another adjacent to it. Right at the end is a fourth, just before the corridor kinks to the left and heads off somewhere else. I’m curious what the rooms behind me are used for. A few brothers have walked past, but they’ve bypassed the doorways. Storerooms? Perhaps. I’m tempted to check it out in case there’s a handy weapon around, but that’s probably wishful thinking.

As if to stretch my legs, I start to pace casually up and down the hallway. While keeping my head turned to the ground, I peek up through my eyelashes. Try as I might, I can see no more hidden cameras. I’m comfortably sure they haven’t got eyes on me.

Shall I look behind the other doors?Or will I be caught? If I step one foot out of line, it will give them the excuse that they need, and my days will be ended.

A good prospect will always follow every instruction and never deviate from any course given. That the closed doors are tantalisingly close could be them putting temptation in my way.

When it’s been deathly quiet for more than a few minutes, my curiosity gets the better of me. I’m just about to investigate when I hear footsteps coming up from my right.

With a feeling of relief that I hadn’t given in to the impulse to explore, I stand at attention when Duke comes into sight.

I’m about to greet him politely when there’s a commotion behind him, and I hear a female cry.

“Please, no.” The girl’s voice is shrill and piercing. “Please, let me go.”

When she comes into sight, her pretty face is made ugly with tears streaming, and crease lines showing that the man dragging her along has her in a painful grip.

Duke swings around but offers no commiseration. “Bring her,” he instructs.

Without a glance in my direction, as if I was invisible, he proceeds to the room at the end and opens it with a key. Sneaking a glance I get a glimpse of a well-appointed bedroom, which I take to be his.

The tattooed biker drags the unwilling woman past me. She sees me and shoots me a look of appeal, but I can do nothing to help her. Although it makes bile boil in my gut, like a guard on a base, I ignore anything that’s not a threat to me, and let them move past without making a move or requesting an explanation.

At the doorway ahead, Duke stands back, allowing the other biker to push the girl in. The last sight I see is her sprawled on the floor, before the door is closed and it’s only me and the Crazy Wolf left in the corridor.

As he walks back down the way he’d approached, he pauses to wink at me. “The VP’s gonna have fun tonight. He always likes breaking a new girl in.”

As agonised screams begin to float down the corridor, I start hoping that Saffie’s room is soundproofed, while knowing that’s unlikely. It’s probably wrong and I should have more compassion for the poor girl, but all I can think of is with him occupied, it’s not Saffie being subjected to his attentions. Perhaps it was a good ploy to suggest she’s still bleeding.

I can’t help but wonder who the girl is. Her clothing was torn, but from what I could see of what remained, it was nothing like a sweet butt’s. It wasn’t expensive, cheap but smart looking, as though she’d been picked up off the street, maybe on her way home from a job in an office.

My fists clench and I’d give anything to be able to intercede. But I can’t save everyone, and it’s Saffie who’s important to me. Even if I could break up Duke’s fun night, I wouldn’t be able to get the girl off the compound or find a way to let her go free. Killing Duke with my bare hands might give me satisfaction, but it wouldn’t help me or save the girl. And where would that leave Saffie?

Is Saffie important to the MC, or just to their VP? If I killed Duke, she might be even worse off.

As the sounds lower to a constant sobbing, I gather Duke’s occupied for now. Apart from the background of the girl’s distress, I hear no one else around. Inching up the hallway, I place my back against one of the doors that remain a mystery.

Reaching into my boot, I take the innocuous weapon that hadn’t been removed from me—a bent piece of wire—and have that door unlocked in three seconds flat. Pausing again to make sure Duke hasn’t finished with his toy, I crack the door open and peer in. A large cabinet meets my eyes, but on inspection, unfortunately it holds no weapons. Otherwise there are a few mattresses piled up, and worn-looking bed linen, but nothing else. Just my luck. I step back out and lock it back up.

After checking, I can still hear no movement and that the distraught sobbing from the room at the end is continuing, I try the next door. In here there’s a bed, unmade and dishevelled, but not much else. Nothing personal to indicate it belongs to any of the men, but the scent of sex and weed is strong. A crash room? Maybe.

Taking a deep breath, I step inside, checking for cameras but there’s none I can see. My objective is finding a weapon, something with which to defend myself, but that would be too easy.

Still, I search, reaching my hand under the bed, opening the drawer in the bedside table, moving aside boxes of condoms which seem more than any one man would need. The variety of sizes and types suggest I was right. This is a place the men would take women for casual sex.

It was a vain hope I’d find a gun or a knife. While I’m to be disappointed in my search, I’m not surprised. Looking back toward the door, I see a bolt on the inside. Huh. Seems some people around here do like their privacy.

My brain registers that the sounds from Duke’s room have died down. Believing he’ll kick the girl out rather than allowing her to share his bed for the night, I exit quickly, hesitating before relocking the door. Might be useful if I quickly need a place to hide.

Now positioned leaning against the wall opposite Saffie’s room, I let my body slide down until my ass is against the floor. I bow my head, resting it on my knees.

I’ll be able to doze, knowing my senses will remain alert.

Only a few minutes later, I hear footsteps on the stairs. Jerking fully awake, I jump to my feet and regain my sentry pose.

The member who passes shoots a death glare at me but proceeds to the door at the end. He knocks. It opens. A naked, bloodied and almost comatose girl is pushed into his arms. With just a chin lift, he hefts her over his shoulder, slaps her ass, and hauls her away, walking back past me without even a glance my way.

Duke sees me, grins, lifts his hand in a mock salute, then disappears back into his room.

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