Page 78 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Twenty-One

Saffie

When Niran leaves me alone, I spend a while just staring out the window, considering the two chapters of the Satan’s Devils that I’d met. Neither bear any resemblance to the Crazy Wolves, thank God.

While I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to prove they’re no different underneath, my logical self tells me there’s no comparison. Except for that reference to a girl being tied up in someone’s room back in San Diego. Hmm. I’m not sure how I could have interpreted it wrong. Would a woman allow herself to be willingly restrained? Some do, I remind myself, if the books I read are to be believed.

Utah is yet another beast. It has all types for a start. At first Grinch had scared me, but when he’d mentioned he’d had a daughter and that I resembled her, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy. I truly believe they don’t care whether Honor and Duty are gay. Stormy openly appreciates his woman, and as for Swift, what can I say? The Wolves would never have accepted a woman member, whatever the circumstances.

Mealtimes?I chuckle, wondering whether Cowboy had been serious.

I think here I can feel safe.

From somewhere there’s the sound of a motorcycle revving, and my palms start to sweat, my heart kicks up a gear, beating so rapidly it drains blood from my brain. I become so dizzy I have to collapse on the bed. My lungs heave, but I’m starved for air.

Safe? Far from it. I’m in the middle of a motorcycle club.

Recognising the signs of yet another panic attack, I try to get myself under control. Drawing in air through my nose for four seconds, holding it, and then breathing it out through my mouth as slowly as I can. I repeat, and then again, until my heart gets the message I’m not in flight mode.

I’m battling with my own head. However much I tell myself it’s irrational, my nostrils seem full of the imagined sense of leather, and my skin itches as though I’m being crawled over by a thousand bugs.

The Devils aren’t Wolves.

But how can I tell? I’m the stupid woman who’s been wrong so often before. They might not be wolves, but they’re dressed in leather. Sheep’s clothing, my brain tells me.

I fight my own body, trying to calm myself. I was okay until Niran left me. Somehow it’s different when he’s there, even confined to the wheelchair, he makes me feel protected. For some reason, thinking of Niran is the one thing that calms me.

After a few minutes, my panic attack starts to fade, leaving me worn out and exhausted. Lying back on the bed, I close my eyes, but not to sleep, just to rest. Since the escape from the Crazy Wolves’ compound, each night when I sleep, it’s only to relive lying shot on the ground, but this time, the bullet hadn’t missed. It’s then that I wake, sheets tight around me, and covered in sweat. Maybe tonight, Niran will keep the nightmares at bay.

Because tonight, Niran will be sleeping next to me.

I hadn’t been horrified to see we’d be sharing a bed. Niran’s in no state to try anything, and if he holds me like he had back in my apartment in San Diego, he’ll keep the monsters in my mind away.

The danger isn’t being close to him. The danger is that I’ll come to rely on him, and forget he represents everything I hate. I refuse to be an old lady, property, or even a wife again.

Interrupting my thoughts, a gentle tap comes on the door, followed quickly by a female voice saying, “Saffie, are you there? I thought you might like some company.”

I recognise the voice, it’s Cat. Cat, who’s got everything I want—a healthy baby growing inside her. But she’s tied to a biker for which she deserves my pity. I ignore the loving way Stormy had kissed her, suspecting it was an act, and that eventually he’ll revert to who he really is. Just like Duke.

Nonetheless, I open the door, and stepping back, wordlessly invite her in.

She glances around the room. “You got everything? If you haven’t, one of the prospects can go and get anything you need.”

“We’re fine for now. Thank you.” I try to think of something to say, and end up asking the obvious, though I’d really prefer not to know. “How long have you got to go?”

“Three months.” Her hand moves to her stomach. “I can’t believe six have passed already.” The smile drops from her face. “I know you lost your baby. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t want to hide the truth. “I had a termination.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “I heard. And I know the reason. It’s the kind of thing any pregnant woman worries about and wonders what they’d do.” Her eyes fill. “You’ve been so brave.”

Brave? I think I was anything but. I hate that tears come to my eyes, but I can’t do anything to stop them. “I just couldn’t… couldn’t carry on, knowing there was nothing anyone could do.”

“Oh, honey.” She approaches me. “I’m so sorry.”

I turn away, unable to face her sympathy, knowing I’ll break completely if I allow myself to wallow in her compassion.

Cat seems to know what I’m thinking without me saying a word. “Want to get out of this room?”

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