Page 35 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Twelve

Niran

“We’re trapped.” Saffie hisses. “Is this your plan? ‘Cause at the moment, I don’t think much of it.”

I have no time to mollify her or admit to her I haven’t got the faintest idea how I’m going to get us out. All I know is Slit was going to rape her, and I had to stop him. Now, anyone coming to check will find a dead body and both her and I missing. Fuck.

“Stay here, throw the bolt and lock the door after me.”

“Where are you going?” Her eyes widen. “You can’t leave me here alone, Niran. Sooner or later, they’ll come looking for Slit, find his body and…” After a pause, she continues, her voice shrill but still hushed, “They’ll tear me limb from limb. Slit’s their sergeant-at-arms.”

“You’ll be okay,” I try to impress on her. “No one would think to search here. The room’s locked and you wouldn’t have a key. Hide under the bed. If they do come in, they’ll only give it a cursory look to confirm it’s empty.” I cross my fingers behind my back. It sounds flimsy even to me.

Unconvinced, she challenges me. “And what will you be doing? Saving your own ass?”

Her mistrust in me is chilling. Hissing myself, I approach her, backing her against the wall. “You don’t fuckin’ know me at all, do you, Saffie? I’m a fuckin’ Marine. I never leave a woman or man behind.” I wait a beat for that to sink in. “I’m unarmed, I need a gun. I need to find a way to get you out of here. I’m going out, but I will be back.”

How I’m going to do that I have zero ideas at present. I might be a Marine, but I’d slipped up. In my haste to get Saffie out of the room, I’d forgotten to search Slit for weapons. I need to go back, and before someone comes looking for him. When they open that door, they’ll be out for blood. I’m banking on having whatever time they’ll allow for Slit to take his pleasure. I’m unable, of course, to be able to rank him on his past performance or guess how many minutes they’ll give him. That they haven’t come already means the security camera isn’t working, or that no one’s checked the footage. But if it’s the latter, time’s fast running out.

Still unconvinced, Saffie’s eyes shoot to the door. “Take me with you. I know the clubhouse and where the exits are.”

“I can’t do that.” I’m growing frustrated. “Hell, Saffie. What excuse could I offer for walking you about? And I’m fuckin’ unarmed.”

“My clothes are torn,” she says fast. “It could look like Slit’s finished with me. There’s a barn out back where they keep girls before moving them on. Tell them Duke’s going to make a whore of me. Most would believe that.”

It’s more than I’ve come up with. “Will that work?”

She grimaces. “It depends who we see. There’s no chance if we meet Duke, or Knife, Slit, Croak and Grit, who know how important I am to their VP, maybe even to the whole club. I’m a fucking money cow it seems. But I don’t know about the other members. They might believe.”

“It’s too risky,” I respond fast, grimacing at the long list of names. “Or at least, until I’m armed.”

She hisses like a cat. “If you go, I’ll follow you. You’re not leaving me here like a sitting duck.”

“Just let me go find a weapon first,” I plead with her. I can’t even guarantee Slit walked into her room armed. He might not have as a precaution. All I know is I feel naked as a fucking newborn baby without a gun. I’m not afraid to use my fists to defend myself, but that’s only one-on-one. I’d be a fool to think I could take on the whole club.

Her face is set. It looks like no amount of pleading will help. I eye her carefully. Her face is red, blotchy with weeping, and the eye which was closed yesterday but open earlier is swollen shut once more. If Slit wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him again, and this time take my time over it.

I’m just about to capitulate when heavy footsteps sound right outside the door. Putting a finger to my lips, I unnecessarily admonish her to be quiet.

The footsteps start again and move away. I hear a knocking from a distance, and then a voice calling out, “Duke? You in there?”

A pause, then the footsteps return. Saffie’s eyes widen as they again stop, and we hear a heavy rapping on the opposite door.

“Slit?” Then after a pause, “Sapphire? Bitch, answer me. Slit still in there?” Heavy knocks sound again, then what I interpret as a kick. “Bitch, I take it he’s gone. You staying dumb ain’t going to do shit, just sayin’.”

The footsteps move away, back down the corridor, but halt far too soon.

“Hey, anyone seen the nigger? He’s s’posed to be here.”

“What you need, Croak?” a muffled voice shouts up the stairs.

“I’m looking for Slit. Knife wants him.” the man at the top calls down.

“Slit’s probably still in with the bitch. Duke told him to take his time.” My hand covers Saffie’s mouth before her indignant gasp escapes.

“Nah, well I knocked, but no one fuckin’ answered.”

The man he was speaking to presumably climbs the stairs, as his voice is clearer now. “Bitch probably wore him out. Perhaps they’re taking a nap.”

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