When Duke makes a turn, I’m slightly surprised. The steel industrial-type fencing looks ominous, and as we drive on, when it comes into sight, the worn ranch house surrounded by barns and an oversized garage doesn’t look particularly hopeful. But the number of motorcycles parked outside makes me realise this must be the right place. As the car pulls up, loud heavy metal music floods out from inside. Not exactly dance music. I suppress a pout.
For once, instead of coming around to help me out, Duke just waits in front of the car, casting an impatient look behind him. So, being quite capable and shrugging off the slight, I open my door and step out, almost twisting my ankle as my high heels meet the rough ground. The place where we’ve parked is the worst in the lot, the pavement only extends so far as where they’ve parked the motorcycles.
Teetering carefully to Duke’s side, I reach for his hand. Instead of taking it, he pushes me in front of him, then steers me with his palm on the small of my back. Little signs that should give me pause, but I think nothing of them.
The doorway looks foreboding, and over the top is a sign, Crazy Wolves Motorcycle Club. I grimace, knowing now it’s not the type of club I was expecting, and explains why Duke’s is the only car in the parking lot. It looks like I’m about to meet bikers, and a lot of them.
Mentally, I shrug. Duke rides a motorcycle, and I already knew all his friends all have bikes, that’s why I hadn’t been surprised to see them. I’m amused that I expected any different and begin to doubt there’ll be a dance floor and cocktails inside. It’s our wedding day, I remind myself. His friends want to celebrate with us. That automatically gives them a place in my book, even if I’d anticipated somewhere very different. This is my new life. By Duke’s side. I’ll draw on all my experience to make sure I don’t disappoint him. I know I can cope.
With one hand around my waist, Duke snakes out his other and opens the door, then, with me tight to his front, pushes me inside.
The interior is gloomy, and I can’t immediately make much out, except for wall-to-wall leather, and a strong odour of cigarette smoke, stale beer and male sweat. A flicker of doubt makes me wonder just what I’ve stepped into. Duke’s brought me here. I trust him implicitly. Everything will be alright.
Focusing on trying not to let my nose wrinkle or outwardly show my disgust, I smile brightly as Duke raises his hand. He must make some kind of signal, as the music is cut off. For a second, there’s silence. As my eyes adjust to the level of light, I notice the leather-clad men have turned and are all facing us.
“This is Sapphire,” Duke calls out loudly. “She’s my ol’ lady.”
My wait for cries of congratulations is unrewarded. Instead, only one man, wearing a patch that says sergeant-at-arms, steps forward. Expecting a greeting, I’m taken aback when far from offering an outstretched hand or a warm welcome, his eyes roam over me, pausing at my breasts, before heading south, then rising once more to my face. The leer he’s sporting makes me feel cheap. I tense, expecting Duke to say something. This isn’t respect, it’s far from it.
“Nice looking bitch. Gonna share, VP?”
The title VP barely registers. Holding my breath, I wait for Duke to punch the man, but instead he laughs. “Once I’ve broken her in, maybe.” Then he raises his voice. “Got a welcome, brothers, for your new piece of club property?”
Cheers and shouts come from all directions, but these aren’t the congratulatory ones I’d anticipated, loaded as they are with lewd suggestions, and accompanied by quite a few rude gestures with men’s hands grabbing at the front of their pants. Duke pulls me tighter in front of him, and I lean back against him for protection, then freeze as he ominously announces, “She’s mine, for now.”
“Duke,” I hiss, taking a tight hold on the sides of his shirt. “I don’t want to stay.” It’s an understatement, I want to run for my life.
His hand goes to my head, tangles in my hair and pulls it painfully. When I look up and back at him, it’s into a face I don’t recognise. With tight lips and a hard voice, he replies, “Oh you’re staying, Sapphire. There’s no doubt about that. Welcome to your new home.”
Letting go of my hair, he pries away my hands and steps to the side. “Who’s got my fuckin’ cut? I’m naked without it.”
A man runs up and hands him a leather vest. When Duke shrugs it on and settles it on his shoulders, it fits him like a glove and turns the man I thought I knew into someone else. Someone who immediately scares me.
“Now let’s get this fuckin’ party started. Where’s that phone?” he calls out.
While the men start flooding to what I now recognise is a bar, the one wearing the sergeant-at-arms patch passes him a device. “Burner,” he tells Duke.
My husband—God, how many women start regretting their marriage in such a short time?—taps in a number. With the phone to his ear and his eyes pinning me in place, he waits for an answer.
“Ah, Winston.” Over the noise I can’t hear the other party, but only Duke’s side of the conversation. “Yeah, I got who I want. Nice to speak to you, Winston Bartell.”
My brow furrows. That’s my dad. Why is Duke ringing him, and why now, when it’s only been two hours since we exchanged vows?
“Yeah. It’s Duke Marshall. Sapphire’s mine now, you lost, old man. I warned you not to cross me—” He pulls his phone away from his ear, and chuckles. After a moment, he moves it back. “You finished? Yeah, I’ll tell you why I’m certain. I’ve got my ring on her finger. It’s all legal… Sure, go ahead, you check it out. She’s Sapphire Marshall now… Nah, it’s too late. Nothing you can do. You lost your chance… See, you should have made that investment.” He barks a laugh. “Cops won’t lift a fuckin’ finger, she’s my wife. Don’t you get it? I warned you I’d retaliate… Sure, I’ll treat her right. She’s a great addition to our clubhouse… Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I get one sniff of the cops or any interference and Sapphire will meet with a nasty, fatal accident. And that you can take to the bank and store along with my investment I never had.” Another removal of the phone, and this time I can hear my father screaming. “Let’s be clear. Sapphire’s dead to you now, and you can spend the rest of her life wondering how your little girl’s being treated… Oh, you disown her? Like I give a fuck about that… Yeah, this is what I want. You meet my demands, and I’ll keep giving you proof of life. Sounds like a fuckin’ good deal as long as you keep your end of it.”
He ends the call, tosses me a disdainful look, then shouts out, “I need a bitch.”
As if it’s expected, the men, all holding drinks now, part, and a girl is pushed through. I see fear in her eyes, but she pulls back her shoulders and puts on a tremulous smile. It’s about all that she’s wearing—apart from a thong, she’s naked.
“VP?” her quivering voice asks.
Duke waves down to his groin. “Need you to suck me off, honey, and do your fuckin’ best. Show my cunt of a wife how a real girl gets to work.”
No, no, no, and no. I’ve been cheated on before, but not like this. Not right in front of me, or not deliberately. Not by a man so totally oblivious to my feelings. At least my ex had been discreet until I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Duke knows my history. He knows how much this will hurt me.
All this goes through my head in one split second and I’ve only one thought, to get out of there. I spin on my heels to the door that’s still just behind us, only to find another leather-clad body there. A man standing, arms folded, blocking the doorway.
“Entertainment’s that way, ma’am,” he tells me, mockingly polite, and jerking his head behind me.
“Yeah, Sapphire.” Duke’s voice, now sounding lazy, makes me reluctantly turn. “Watch and learn.”
I do, and immediately regret it. Duke’s thrusting his hips, his cock disappearing deep into the clearly reluctant girl’s mouth, making her gag and her eyes water. She gasps frantically for air each time he pulls out. I turn away, but the man behind me is there, clasping me tightl
y. His painful hold on my chin forces my face forward. I close my eyes, wanting to block out the sight.
“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” Duke snaps. “Take notes as it will be your turn later. If you don’t get it right, you’ll have to practice on my brothers.” He waits for a beat before adding, “All of them.”
The man holding me in place lowers his lips to my ears and chuckles softly. “Guess you’re going to have a sore jaw tonight. And a sore cunt if I’ve got anything to say about it. The VP’s made a good choice, I’ll give him that. I wonder if he’ll let me take your ass.”
Duke overhears, grins and snorts a laugh. “Her face, you fuckin’ see that, Brothers?” Then he adjusts his eyes to glare around the room. “She’s mine, for now.” He shifts his gaze back to me. “You do what I say, Sapphire. You belong to me, you got me? You can’t run, there’s nowhere for you to go. Even your cunt of a father doesn’t want you, and wherever you go, I’ll bring you back. You treat me good? Then I’ll keep my brothers away. You disobey or disrespect me, and you’ll be theirs. All of theirs. You fuckin’ feel me?”
I feel sick. I’m shaking. I go hot, and cold. This can’t be happening.
“Answer me!” Duke snaps, then pauses as he thrusts a couple more times, then groans loudly. He pulls out, leaving his cum dripping down the woman’s mouth, sighing in satisfaction, then stalks toward me while tucking himself away. He repeats his demand. “You get what I’m saying, little socialite?”
It’s the stranger behind me who answers on my behalf. Still having a firm hold of my head, he forces me to nod violently.
Duke snorts, then says sarcastically, “Good girl.”
Chapter Twenty
Niran
I fucking hated leaving Saffie, but she was the one calling the shots. I’d known she was starting to depend upon me, her welcome each night when she’d return showed me that. On my part, my feelings toward her hadn’t diminished, they had been growing. Was she feeling the same and was that what frightened her? That she was becoming too invested in a biker.
What the fuck had happened to her to make her so scared of bikers, to tar all of us with the same brush? Being raped is an awful crime and not easy to recover from, I’m not dismissing that. I can understand her being wary, not wanting to repeat any mistake she might think she made. But to have such an irrational fear of all members of all clubs suggests I don’t know the half of it yet.
As I exit her apartment block, pushing my way past an obvious drug dealer, making his mark jump out of the way and ignoring the prostitute and her pimp exiting her apartment, I make my way to my truck uncaring who I’m upsetting, knowing I’m more than a match for any man in the temper I’m in.
I’m annoyed at myself, not at her. Never at Saffie. My only beef with her was she had come too close to the truth. Yes, I’d harboured hopes that as she recovered, we’d grow closer. While far too soon to make promises, I had been thinking in terms of making her my old lady. I’d entertained dreams of introducing her to my brothers. I’d brushed over that her fears were so deep seated and were something she’d never be able to get over.
She was raped. Terrible, heartbreaking, the thought makes me see red. But why did that taint all men who ride motorcycles?
Hell, if being the type of man who takes women without consent defines bikers, I’d want to pull the cut off my back and shred it myself. We’re not all like that. I’m not so naïve as not to know there are some clubs which don’t treat women with respect, clubs which share their old ladies, or change them like they do underwear. Some keep sex slaves or run prostitution rings.
But that’s not the Devils. Even our sweet butts aren’t pressed if they’re not in the mood.
My rage won’t be satisfied until I find this Duke myself and remove him from the land of the living. But I’ve got to find him first, and that might prove a challenge. Duke can’t be an uncommon handle. I should have asked her where she’d moved from.
I know why she hadn’t given me details; she knew I was set on murder.
It’s three in the morning when I arrive back at the compound. Kid’s wearily mopping the bar, but there’s no one else to be seen.
“Whisky. The bottle,” I demand as I approach him.
“How’s Saffie?” he inquires, innocently, as he reaches for the bottle behind him. “She doing better?”
“She is,” I growl, my tone menacing enough that he doesn’t ask for more details. She’s so much fucking better she’s decided she can do without me. That will get around soon enough, no need for me to enlighten him.
I take the bottle, ignore the offered glass, and make my way up to my bedroom. Passing along the hallway, I hear a moaning coming from one of the rooms. Sweet butts are still awake and working.
It makes me realise just how long it’s been since I last got laid, and again, Saffie was right. I can wait, would wait a fuck of a long time, but I’d never be able to resign myself to a sexless existence. I’d have banked on that she wouldn’t either. But maybe waiting for a day that might not come, or heaven forbid, until she found someone else who could better arouse her, maybe wasn’t the best course of action.
I open my door—I never bother to lock it. If I can’t trust my brothers, who the fuck could I? I switch on the light and come to a full stop.
There, lying in the middle of my bed, is Cyn. My fucking sister.
“What the fuck?”
The light had made her startle, my roar made her leap up and almost out of the bed. “Niran!” she shouts, delightedly. “You’re home.”
Ignoring her welcome, I go for the pertinent information. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
I’ll be fucked if her bottom lip doesn’t tremble, and she wipes at her eyes as if to dab at what to me are invisible tears. “I’ve missed you, Niran. You’re never here. I’ve been feeling so lonely.”
Lonely in a club full of bikers? It suddenly occurs to me that while I think she’s got more than adequate company, maybe that’s my view and not hers. What has she in common with the men I ride with?
Though I’ve given time to her in the evenings before I’d gone to see Saffie, I’ve often left at ten, wanting to make sure her apartment is tidy, and that there was food ready for when she came in.
I’ve been spending the nights with Saffie, even though not, as others might think, in her bed, while the sister who apparently needs me has been crying in mine. All of a sudden, I feel like an asshole.
Cyn apparently needs me, and while I doubt I have much to give her, maybe now Saffie has sent me away, I should focus my attention on her instead.
“Are you going to ask me to leave?”
Taking it she means from my bed, and not from San Diego, I shake my head. “Nah, you can stay here tonight if you want to.”
I sit on the opposite side of the bed to which she’s occupying, and shrug out of my jeans, knowing my boxers will preserve my dignity, and start to unstrap my leg. Behind me, the bed dips as Cyn moves over, puts her hand on my shoulder, and leans in to watch.
“Ew. I’ve never seen your stump before. Does it hurt? It looks disgusting.”
Yes, little sister, I’m only too well aware that the scars from the surgery aren’t pretty, nor is the redness caused by a long day wearing my prothesis. Grimacing, I reach for my cane, and stand. “It’s not meant to be pretty.” Turning my back, I hop away to the bathroom where I do what’s necessary, before lighting a bedside lamp, turning off the main one, and coming back to bed.
“Shift over,” I tell her. “Give me some space.”
I’m tired as fuck, upset about Saffie and now worried about Cyn and how she’s really doing. Maybe her bravado is all an act, and underneath she’s just a frightened child.
One month, Saffie had asked for. Four weeks during which I should give her space. Perhaps instead of moping around, I should use the time positively and focus on Cyn. If I can get her head on straight, there’s a chance she could return to her parents and get out of my space.
&nbs
p; Sharing my bed with my sister? Hell, I could never have predicted that. While my head knows the warm feminine body beside me is that of my sibling, I’m worried as fuck that in my sleep, my hands might wander. Anchoring them under my head, I force myself to stay still. Each time I drop off, I wake, disturbed by the presence of another person, when normally I sleep by myself, or with a woman I am allowed to snuggle with.
When daylight finally breaks the tortuous night, Cyn isn’t impressed.
“You toss and turn a lot. And you snore.”
Do I? I’ve never heard myself. Still, my restless night is easily explained by everything I’ve got on my mind. Despite my promise to give Saffie time, she’s the first thing I think of as I wake this morning. Is she okay? Is she eating? Did she sleep? I just fucking hope those bastards living in the other apartments or hanging around waiting to score hadn’t bothered her.
I don’t apologise for Cyn’s disturbed sleep. “You’ve got your own room, Cyn.”
Ignoring my response, she grins at me. “It’s a lovely day. Will you take me out on your bike, Niran? Please?” She flutters her eyelids as she begs.
Is it wrong I really don’t want her there? The only arms I want around me are those which right now, wouldn’t give me the time of day. “I’ve got to work, Cyn. And so have you,” I remind her. When she grimaces, I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you like working for Salem?”
“Salem’s fine,” she admits grumpily, then raises wide eyes to mine. “But Kid’s there today, and he gives me the creeps.”
Bristling, I question her further, my voice deep and growling. “He upset you?”
She shrugs. “He makes me feel uneasy.”
I’ll have words with the fucking prospect later. As my sister, Cyn’s higher in the pecking order than a darn prospect who can be sent away, but I need to know more about what I’m dealing with. “In what way, Cyn?”
She gives another rise and lower of her shoulders. “He just does.”
Has he made a move on her? Fucking prospect should know she’s out of bounds. For now and forever. Even if he was patched in, she’s another member’s sister.
Avenging Devil Part 1: Satan’s Devils MC - San Diego Chapter #3 Page 20
