Avenging Devil Part 1: Satan’s Devils MC - San Diego Chapter #3

by Mellett, Manda

“Are you a gang member?” Strangely my revelation has her animated. She’s brightened and is leaning forward as if eager to hear more.

  “We’re a club, not a gang. In fact,” I wipe my hand over my face, wondering whether my hastily decided course of action is indeed the right one, “I’d like you to meet the other club members. You want to come stay at the club for a while?”

  “Niran!” For the first time tonight, a genuine smile lights her face. “You’d introduce me to your friends?” Coming over, she leans down and gives me an awkward hug, which I return after a moment. “I knew I was right to come see my big brother.”

  Hell, it might work for her, but now I’ve taken on responsibility for my young sister, I’m having doubts. Doing so is something I never expected and am far from certain that’s what I want, especially with another woman occupying my mind.

  Dom traits? That’s what Kink thinks I have? Nah, he’s wrong. I want to be there for Saffie, but I’d gladly walk away from my sister if I had the choice.

  As Cyn goes to the bathroom and does whatever women do to get ready for the night, I lie back on my bed.

  Why is it I think of Cyn as a burden? I never saw Saffie that way. From the moment I’d first seen her crying, all my instincts were to protect, help and do what I could to make her life better.

  Cyn’s my fucking sister, yet if she agreed to go back to Michigan tomorrow, I couldn’t be happier.

  One woman’s compliant when I don’t want her to be, the other anything but.

  Fuck my life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Niran

  With Cyn seeming happy her immediate future is sorted, and me wondering how much I’ll regret it later, we settle down for what remains of the night. Trying to keep my tossing and turning to a minimum so as not to disturb her, I can’t switch my mind off.

  Why did Cyn want to stay with an abusive partner? I really don’t understand. Does she really think that’s all she’s worth, or as it was her first boyfriend, all she thought she could settle for? Is she misinterpreting his controlling nature for love? If so, she’s sorely mistaken.

  Was Saffie’s missing baby daddy abusive? Was that why she’d run? While I try to concentrate on the woman I’m supposed to care for, I can’t help but think about the woman I have no blood connection to. If that’s Saffie’s situation, she was wise to get herself free. That could be why she’s in such a shit apartment. Cyn, though, she wants to go back to the fucker. How the hell do I deal with that?

  I’ve met abusive assholes before, and never had time for them. I’d met some of their wives and had wondered why the fuck they stayed with them. I’m hopeful when Cyn sees examples of Lost, Dart and Grumbler with their wives that she’ll come around to the view that men can be protective and loving without taking over their women’s lives. Even Tits, Cindy and Pearl have more of an idea of their self-worth, and wouldn’t stay if the brothers were violent toward them. As for Eva, I wouldn’t want to be the man who tried anything with her. With her medical knowledge, I think she could be quite inventive.

  Yes, hopefully taking Cyn to the clubhouse will be an education.

  I wish I could have persuaded Saffie to come there.

  I must doze a little, as my thoughts become merged, and I find myself thinking of the discussion I’d had with Kink. Had Cyn had a satisfying relationship? Not that I, as a brother wanted to know, but maybe it was so good it compensated for his other failings?

  My thoughts start to jumble, wondering where control begins and ends. Kink restricts his dominance to the bedroom; Hester used his to take over Cyn’s life. There must be a middle ground. Was Saffie hit, just like her? My fists itch to punch something—Saffie’s ex first, followed quickly after by Hester.

  My final thought before I give in to sleep is that I should keep Kink and Cyn far apart. If she’s, in his terms, submissive, and I think that she is, she’ll scream to the Dominant in him. Or, conversely, he might be able to give me insight into what makes her tick.

  Waking from dreams, or nightmares to be exact, where my naked sister is crawling around the club, I first rouse myself and then her.

  What I should have been thinking about is how exactly to introduce her to the club, and what I’m going to say when my mom gets wind of what I do and where I really work, all while I can’t stop wishing it were Saffie I was bringing to the club.

  Seeing Cyn’s dropped back asleep despite my shake to her shoulder, I take my phone and quietly make my way outside. Once there, I breathe in the fresh air, then place my call.

  “You got Lost.”

  As always, I bite back my desire to respond by asking for directions, knowing it would go down like a ton of lead. “Prez. I gotta problem. Need to ask the club for help.”

  “Speak to me, Brother. This about the woman who kicked you out?”

  I take another lungful of air. Shit has gotten around fast. Not that I expected Token to keep his mouth shut, he lives on information and likes to share—with brothers, of course, no one else. “Not her, no. Prez, I know I don’t talk much about my family, but one of my sisters turned up. She’s left home and needs a temporary place to stay.”

  “She okay?”

  I sigh. “Long and short is, she was made to leave an abusive ex. I think my folks took the right path, but she’s still cut up about it.”

  “He still breathing?” Lost growls.

  “Unfortunately, as far as I know, yeah. It’s got her all twisted up. She’s only twenty, Lost.”

  “Still a kid,” he observes. After a moment, he adds, “Why you, Niran? You close?”

  “About as far from it as half-siblings can get. I know it’s an ask, Prez. I don’t really know her, but if I turn her loose, I don’t know where she’ll end up. She seems pretty adamant she’s not going home.”

  “She’s family, Brother. She’s welcome to bunk down with us for a spell. We’ve got plenty of room. Doubt we’ll even notice she’s here.”

  Grateful as I am, he deserves a warning. “I can’t vouch for her, Prez.”

  “Kid like that? Can’t see she’ll cause trouble for us.” He chuckles softly. “For you, perhaps.”

  “Thanks, Prez,” I respond drily, then end the call.

  A peek back inside shows me Cyn’s not stirred. Stepping away once again, I place another call.

  “Mom, it’s Niran. Cyn’s here. I got her.” I’d messaged last night, but a verbal confirmation always helps.

  “Oh, thank the Lord. Is she okay?”

  “Yeah. She’s sleeping right now. One question, Mom. This Hester, he get sorted out?”

  There’s a pause, then, “She told you? And yeah, Grover got some of his ex-Army pals to have a chat.” I’m sure I hear disapproval in her voice, but then Mom was never into violence.

  “Is he going to be a problem?”

  “You mean, will he take it out on her?” After I respond with a nod that she can’t see, and an audible yes to back it up, she continues, “Not according to Grover, no.”

  “What do you think?”

  “On my part, I liked him, Niran. I didn’t expect him to do that. I do wonder if it’s all been blown out of proportion.”

  Well, she’s no damn help. “Mom, I’m asking if he’s likely to come after her. I want to be prepared. Or if she comes back, will he be waiting for her?”

  Again she replies, “Not according to Grover.”

  I’m not so sure. Abusers are often bullies who don’t like their marks to get away. One thing’s for certain, when she does go back to Michigan, I’ll be going along with her, and having a few words with Hester myself. Knowing my brothers, I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more of them wanted to tag along. Maybe even finish the job Grover’s buddies had started.

  After waking Cyn and stopping off to get us both some breakfast, I make my way to the compound. Casting a sideways glance at the woman beside me, I notice she’s acting like a kid, bouncing on the seat in excitement. Not for the first time, I wonder what type of life she had before sh
e made a disastrous start on her own. Loving, no doubt, but from my memory of Grover, probably restrictive, making her easy pickings for a guy like Hester.

  “What was it like at home?” I ask, as we pull up at a red light.

  She looks at me quickly, her browed furrowed. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Your dad let you have boyfriends?” I hazard a guess he did not, and that Hester was the first man she’d met.

  She snorts. “I’m his precious daughter, what do you think?” Her mouth forms a pout. “Claud and Caro were given more freedom than I.” I grin. Our parents insisted on calling all their kids by their full names. Cyn’s obviously used to shortening them. My smile fades as I realise I barely know the seventeen-year-old Claudia, or Caroline, at just fifteen. My dad had been traditional, wanting me to have a name reflecting my heritage, which I’ve worn proudly. Grover, though, had wanted his all-American kids to fit in.

  “Why were you treated differently?” I wonder aloud.

  “Because I’m ‘difficult.’” She snorts as she puts the word in air quotes, while I wonder if our parents know better than I, and what I might have gotten myself into.

  “Like how?” The light changes to green, and I pull forward.

  A shrug, then, “Claud’s got a car, mine was taken away.”

  “Why?” I prompt when she offers no explanation.

  Another rise and fall of her shoulders. “I stayed out beyond my curfew more than once.”

  Yeah, that’s something Grover wouldn’t have appreciated. I remember that myself. Being in by ten pm had been restrictive to me as a teen. I have some sympathy for her.

  “How did you meet Hester?”

  She huffs in air, puffs out her cheeks, then explains, “I joined a gym. I was going for dance lessons, but Dad thought I wanted to get fit. He encouraged it.”

  “How many classes did you actually attend?” I indicate left, then make the turn.

  “Loads of them.”

  But my sideways glance catches her wide grin. “And they were?”

  “Weightlifting.” She snorts again. “And some MMA.”

  “Watching Hester,” I surmise, not needing the dip and raise of her chin to confirm it.

  “Dad used to drop me at the gym, and Hester and I would take off for a few hours. We fell in love, he asked me to move in, end of story.”

  End of story? Seems like she’s left out one hell of a lot, including the reception she’d gotten from our mom and her dad. “And Mom and Grover just accepted that?”

  “I was nineteen, Niran,” she states, as though there’s nothing more to add. “And Mom approved of him. I mean really approved. She was on my side against Dad.”

  Really? Their relationship must have changed over the years. I park that to ponder on later. “How long were you together?”

  She stares at her fingers, wiggling one after the other as though adding them up. “Ten months?” Why she poses it as a question, I can’t fathom. It’s she who’s got the information, not me. She then adds to qualify, “We were living together for eight weeks.”

  It can’t hurt to casually drop my next question in. “How often did he raise his hand to you?”

  Yup. I’ve caught her off guard. “Not often. Only when I deserved it. And it was mostly a smack, barely anything.”

  My jaw clenches, and I ask through gritted teeth, “What the fuck did you do to deserve it?”

  She shifts in her seat, her body as uncomfortable as it seems she is with the explanation, as if she’s given it before and knows what my reaction will be. “I’ve never been responsible for a house before, so I often did things wrong. Dinner was late or burned. I stayed out too long, shit like that.”

  “You did nothing fuckin’ wrong, Cyn.” But my words slide off like water from the back of the proverbial duck. I think for a moment. “You see Mom and Dad often?”

  “No,” she states. “Dad made it clear he didn’t like Hester, and Hester didn’t like me going around their house without him.”

  So how did they… “How did they know that he’d hit you?”

  The disused airfield where we have our compound starts to come into sight. I slow to make the final turn, catching sight of her biting her lip as I turn my head.

  “I ran home to see them.” She glances my way, a pleading in her eyes, begging me to understand.

  Which I do, only too well. Hester’s slaps had turned into more, and like a frightened animal, she’d run to the only sanctuary she’d had.

  In a small voice she adds, “I made a mistake, I wanted to go back to him, but Dad wouldn’t let me. Then, after Dad spoke to Hester, he ghosted me. I couldn’t stay with them, so… I came to you.”

  Lucky me. And lucky that we’ve reached our destination and can end this awkward conversation. Cyn sits forward on her seat, bouncing in anticipation as I drive past a row of bikes and park the truck behind the clubhouse.

  “Do those bikes belong to your friends? Will they take me riding? I can’t wait to see inside, Ni. Is this really where you live?” She glances around again, then frowns. “It’s not as I pictured it from watching Sons of Anarchy.”

  Oh shit. That’s all I need, my sister thinking I’m living a life as portrayed in the television show. What the hell have I led her to expect? “My name’s Niran,” I tell her shortly, knowing her preference for shortening names. “And one word of warning, bikers don’t take women on their bikes. Not unless they’ve become special to them. There are things you should know, Cyn. Never, ever touch a man’s ride without permission, and don’t touch his cut. That’s the leather vest we all wear.”

  “You’re not wearing one,” she observes.

  “That’s because I’m driving a car. I’ll put mine on when we get inside.”

  “Jeez, all these rules make you sound like Dad.” She opens the car door without waiting, and throws one last parting comment inside, “I thought bikers lived free from all regulations.”

  “We live on respect,” I tell her, warningly. Then I too get out and go around to her side. “And you’d do well to make that something you never forget.”

  What have I gotten myself into? I muse, as I lead her up to the front door, trying to work my sister out. In many ways she’s naïve, though from what I’d heard, I thought she excelled at school. She obviously sucks at relationships and doesn’t know what to expect. And now, she’s my responsibility. I promised Prez. Fuck.

  Hoping she doesn’t like it here, and soon wants to go back, I open the clubhouse door and let her precede me inside.

  “Well now, who have we got here?” Dart, our VP, is first to notice the newcomer. He looks from me to her, and frowns slightly.

  Realising I should have expected them to make the mental leap which, up to now, hadn’t occurred to me, I quickly correct his assumption this is Saffie, and far younger than I led them to believe, and get the introduction over fast. “Dart, meet Cyn, my little sister. Cyn, meet Dart. He’s the VP.”

  Cyn’s eyes widen as she takes in his serious face, his tattoos and his cut. She moves backward into me.

  Dart’s face, though, has relaxed. “Sister? Well, hell. Nice to meet you, Cyn. You come for a visit?”

  “Just for a bit,” I put in, before she gets any ideas about staying. “Needs a place to clear her head.”

  Dart smiles at her, but his eyebrows rise toward me. Yeah, I’ve not spoken much about my family, but now’s not the time to let him know he’s no more surprised than me that she’s here.

  “Sister?” Dusty appears as if by magic, his eyes assessing Cyn, and his lips curve in a wide, lascivious grin.

  Glancing down, I see Cyn fluttering her eyelids. Unseen by her, I make a slashing motion across my neck, letting him know if he lays one finger on her, he’ll be dead.

  “Sister,” he repeats, this time with a different emphasis. “Got it, Brother.” Losing interest, he steps away.

  Cyn pouts but shakes off her disappointment and looks around the room. “Who’s that?” she asks in a too-loud
whisper.

  Both Dart and I glance to where she’s looking, and Dart grins, then beckons. As Alex comes over, he introduces her. “This is Alex, my wife. Alex, meet Cyn, Niran’s sister.”

  “Hey, Cyn. You visiting?”

  I notice Cyn’s looking between her and Dart, her eyes flaring with interest.

  “Staying for a little while,” I explain, answering on her behalf, then take my opportunity. “You know if there’s a room I can put her in? I didn’t get much notice.”

  Alex isn’t at all fazed. “Sure. You want me to get her settled in?”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. “That would be great, if you don’t mind.”

  When I check, Cyn seems happy enough to go with her and walks off in her wake.

  As Dart turns to me, I pre-empt him. “I barely know her, Dart. She’s had a bust-up with her parents and for some fuckin’ reason ran to me. The bust-up was that they didn’t want her to go back to an abusive motherfucker.”

  “What the fuck?” He turns to look in the direction she’s gone. “Perhaps Alex can tell her a thing or two about that.”

  What he’s alluding to happened shortly before I joined the club, but I know the story. Alex’s abusive ex had tried to kill her. In the end, it had been he who’d been taken out by an impressive shot from Pennywise, our resident sniper.

  “Couldn’t hurt her speaking to Cyn.” I think it would do her some good, to understand once that behaviour starts, it’s only going to get worse.

  “You don’t want her here,” Dart observes sagely.

  “I just don’t know what to do with her.” I shrug. “She’s all but a stranger.” And, unfortunately, not the stranger I’d prefer to have here in my domain. “I honestly don’t know what to do with her, Dart. I’ve got to work, and I can’t just leave her hanging around here.” Who knows what fucking mischief she’d get into, or how many people she might upset?

  “Hey, Salem?” Dart calls out to the man just entering, then when he approaches, asks, “You still thinking about hiring a receptionist?”

  Salem seems taken aback and takes a moment to get his thoughts on Dart’s track. “I thought we’d dismissed it? Sure, it would be good, but one of the prospects can handle it, maybe the new one, Kid? The custom build place is on the compound, and I don’t want a civilian with open access to it.”