Page 43 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Fourteen

Niran

As soon as they knew their sergeant-at-arms was dead, I knew my life would be measured in minutes or hours at best, and those last moments of my life would be painful.

While I’m being dragged into the clubhouse, I remind myself I’m already living on borrowed time. If I hadn’t lied to get them to bring me with Saffie, I’d already be dead.

I’ve failed. I deserve everything I have coming to me. My one reason of stealing those extra hours of life had been with one purpose, to protect Saffie, and now she’s dying or dead. They didn’t even blink an eye at her body or go over to see how badly she was hurt. Though I hate to think of her no longer breathing, I hope it was fast. The thought of her bleeding out in agonising pain is one I can’t stand.

I don’t plead for my life, I plead for hers. “Please, check Sapphire.”

It’s not the first time those words have come out of my mouth, nor the first time they’ve been ignored either. Instead, Croak just rechecks the bindings he’s tied around my wrists, making sure they’re tight. The fact my hands are going white should have given him a visual clue.

“Shut up talking about the bitch,” Knife drawls lazily. “I doubt she survived. Slinger here is a crack shot. As for you, you’re going to have more things to worry about.”

“Yeah.” Croak chuckles, a sound mimicked by several of his brothers. “Like how much pain you’ll be able to take, and how long you’ll survive. What d’ya reckon, Brothers?”

“He’ll pussy out. He’ll beg for a bullet,” someone puts in, conversationally.

“Ten says he won’t last five minutes.” Slinger holds out his hand, and people start dropping money into it.

“Nah,” another biker looks on, “he was a Marine. I think we’ll be able to play with him longer before he taps out.”

“What’s the bet?” A different voice asks. “When he’ll croak, or when he begs for mercy?”

“Mercy,” Slinger clarifies. “He’ll beg for death within minutes. But hey, I want to see how long a Black motherfucker can last.”

I growl in my throat. “Longer than any of you bitches.” I know it’s not a good idea to provoke them, but I’m not having them insinuate that the colour of my skin makes me any less of a man. Croak and Slinger might look like they’d give me a run for my money, but most of the rest I could take on with one hand tied behind my back. Unfortunately, having two restrained to the arms of the chair does compromise me a little.

“Should we wait for Duke?” Croak asks.

Knife kicks something on the ground. “Fuckin’ Duke, he’ll be gone a few hours yet. He’s gone to Carson City to work on a new drug deal. That’s what he should be fuckin’ concentrating on.”

“He wanted her alive.”

“Pah.” Knife only spares him a glance. “Stoat, the VP’s blinded by fuckin’ pussy. There’s more than one way to get the money from the Bartell estate. He’s been off the rails for months trying to find the bitch when it would have been easier to take a contract out on her. We off her, then the cousin, then Duke’s the only legal beneficiary. Blood line or not, he can fight it in the courts. We’ll win one way or another.”

“He won’t be happy she’s dead,” Slinger warns.

“Fuck him,” Knife says. “I’d have put odds on he’d have killed her himself before impregnating her. Man’s fuckin’ loco. Anyway, it’s the nigger’s fault. We’ll just have to mess him up enough so Duke’s satisfied.”

“What do you want us to do here, Prez?” Croak asks, eyeing me up. “Want me to get info from him on the Satan’s Devils?”

Knife snorts. “I know all I need to about that pussy-ass club. Weak leaders, weak men. You know they’ve accepted a woman as a member in one of their clubs?” Snorts of derision go up around him. “As for people like him?” He spits in my face. “They’re not even worth worrying about.”

“We don’t need trouble with the Wretched Soulz,” Slinger states warningly. “I know the Satan’s Devils mother chapter prez is thought highly of.”

Knife stills. Suddenly he whips around and snarls, “You fuckin’ questioning me, Sling?” He stares the man down for a moment. “What trouble are we going to cause? This fucker’s Black, who’s going to give a damn?”

My club,I think to myself, remembering the drone. That had to be them. Maybe they’re planning a rescue right now. I’ve just got to hang on.

But Saffie’s gone.And so has my will to survive.

How the fuck did she become my reason to live in such a short time? I never had a chance to show her she was important to me. These last couple of days I’d done more to persuade her she was not. Did she hate me at the end? Or had I redeemed myself by getting her out? Only to get her shot.

Knowing how I’d fucked up, she must have hated me in those final moments. In despair, I let my head fall forward.

“We boring you?” Knife yells, forcefully grabbing hold of both of my arms which are tied to the chair.

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