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

by Mellett, Manda

  He snorts. “Don’t talk to me about knots, Brother. I can talk about them for days.” Despite myself, my mouth quirks. “You ever been this worried about a woman before?”

  “Never come across one in such dire straits,” I answer. “It’s so fuckin’ hard to accept her doing everything alone.”

  “Kind of got that when Token said you’d offered to turn in your patch.”

  “Token’s got a big fucking mouth,” I growl, wondering now whether everyone knows.

  “Is it true though? She means that much?”

  “I’m sorry, Kink.” He’s one I’d be letting down if I did. “Seems she does.”

  He studies me earnestly. “Then I don’t fuckin’ blame you, even if I don’t think you’d be right. You were born for this life, Brother. And she’ll still be a tough nut to crack, whether or not you wear a cut. Her fear of bikers will always be against you.”

  “The boat has sailed,” I tell him. “She doesn’t want me to go near her. She’ll be moving out of town, hell, out of state. What I should be focusing on is whether I’ve still got a place here.”

  “Should be, but you’re not.” His lips thin. “Thing is, Niran, on the home front, I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about.” I shrug. He hadn’t seen the disappointment in Lost’s face. Still, at least Kink doesn’t seem to be holding it against me. “You know your mistake,” he continues. “You’re giving her what she wants, not what she needs.”

  “Fuck off,” I retort but without any malice. I pick up my beer. “You screw up my head with that dominant shit.”

  He snorts as I walk off and take my ass off to bed.

  Despite that I pride myself on being able to drop off anytime, anywhere, I spend a restless night with thoughts of a certain woman circulating around my mind.

  The next day, I get up and do it all over again.

  Today, it’s even harder to stop jumping on my bike and going to check if she’s alright. Only one thing stops me. She asked me to stay away, and I’ll abide by her request. Of course Kink’s words lodge in my head, but who am I to say what she needs? I start to hope Token will soon report he and Stormy have got her new identity sorted out, and that she’s relocated somewhere far away. Maybe that will get her annoying presence out of my head.

  I take another long ride this evening. I force myself to stop and admire the sun setting over the ocean, trying to focus on the reds and greens instead of Saffie’s dark hair as it falls around her shoulders. It only works to a small extent.

  On returning to the clubhouse, I get myself a beer, then survey the room, wondering whether a game of cards would hold my attention, and how much I could afford to lose if it doesn’t.

  I watch Salem dealing out hands to Pennywise, Wrangler and Deuce, hoping one of them will fold soon, enabling me to take their place. Unlike my usual hypervigilant self, I don’t see her before I feel the hand on my arm.

  Startling, I twist around.

  “Susie,” I state, the word tasting like poison in my mouth.

  “That woman hasn’t come back, then?”

  “What the fuck do you know about that woman?” The words had sounded distasteful coming out of her mouth. “And why are you fuckin’ here? Salem told you to get lost and never come back.”

  “Pfft. He didn’t mean it. Hey, your sister is a hoot. We’ve been getting friendly.”

  “You fuckin’ stay away from my sister.” I don’t want someone like Susie anywhere near Cyn. Cyn’s a bad influence as it is. The two of them together, well, I don’t even want to think about that combination.

  Susie shrugs. “I heard a rumour that woman let you down. You don’t need to miss her, lover, not when you’ve got me around.”

  What the fuck?

  “You been listening where you shouldn’t have?” I snarl. Or just what the hell has Cyn been telling her?

  She glances around, as if looking for someone. “It’s not my fault if I overhear shit. The brothers do talk loudly.” Susie flicks her hair over her shoulders and pouts.

  Do they? Or is it that she sneaks around listening? It reminds me how I thought I heard something outside the room Saffie had been in that night, while we’d been having our conversation. Had it been Cyn? She had appeared soon after. I don’t think it was Susie, I didn’t think she’d been in the clubhouse.

  “Whatever you fuckin’ think you heard, what I do and whoever I want is none of your fuckin’ business.”

  She flutters her eyelids. It does nothing for me. “Well, she doesn’t want you, but I’m here for you, baby.” Pouting, she adds, “I could be a real good old lady.” She inches closer and her overpowering perfume makes me want to choke.

  Pulling away, I snarl, “Susie, whether or not I have or am thinking about taking any woman as my ol’ lady, it’s got fuck all to do with you. As one thing’s for fuckin’ certain, if you were the last woman on earth, it still wouldn’t be you.” I can’t put it clearer than that.

  “We could have been good together. That night was great,” she protests, trying to rewrite history. I don’t have the slightest memory of that night, good or otherwise, except for the bad taste in my mouth that it had left, along with the feeling that somehow she’d tricked me. If it hadn’t been for the evidence of my raw cock, I’d say it was all in her imagination.

  How far would she go? For the first time, I wonder whether my drink had been spiked. If so, Susie’s more dangerous than I thought her to be.

  “Susie,” a voice says sharply. “What the fuck are you doing here? Niran’s told you before, he ain’t interested, and I, myself, told you to get and fuckin’ stay lost.”

  Salem’s eyes question me over her shoulder, a slight tilt of his head toward the door and a firming of his lips speaks volumes. When I give a determined nod, he moves to stand in front of her.

  “I banned you from the clubhouse once already. I don’t take kindly having to do the same thing twice. This time you’re gone and you ain’t never coming back. You get me, bitch? If I see your face again, I’ll happily rearrange it. You hearing me now?”

  “What? No.” She looks at him, then to me in horror. “Niran…”

  “Susie, just go.” I want nothing more to do with her, so turn and walk off. As I reach the card table, Pennywise grins, then seeing something over my head, his eyes narrow, and he sighs deeply. “Seems you’ve got more woman troubles.”

  Turning, I spy Cyn. Ruefully shaking my head, I spin around. “Whatcha want?”

  “Susie would have made you a better ol’ lady than Saffie. Why is Salem being so nasty to her? I saw him dragging her out. She was my friend.”

  What? “What the fuck, Cyn? And this is your business, how?” I walk away for privacy. She follows, then stomps her foot.

  “I thought things would be better now that bitch Saffie has gone. But you’ve still no time for me.”

  “First, she’s no bitch, Cyn. And second, think of someone other than your damn self for a while. Ever thought I might have shit on my mind?” Sure, I’ve been distant over the past couple of days. In truth, I haven’t forgiven her for the comments she’d made about Saffie that night.

  “I’ve missed you,” she protests. “I thought it would get better now she’d gone. But you’ve got no time for me at all. I might as well not be here.”

  Oh yes, please. “You going home?”

  She huffs loudly and marches off. Guess she’s not. I wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Hell, I suck at this big brother gig, but who could blame me when my sister is Cyn?

  Damn it. I need something to take my mind off women. Seeing me staring his way, Pennywise jerks his head to the cards on the table in front of him, kicks out a chair then when I sit, deals me in.

  Accepting soon becomes a mistake. On a losing streak, I throw my cards in with a sigh before I completely empty my wallet.

  When I go to the bar, Kid pours me a drink without me asking.

  “Drinking alone again?”

  “Go away, Kink. I’m not in the mood.�
��

  “Nah?” He ignores me and takes the stool next to where I’m standing. “You’re hurting, Brother.”

  Raising and lowering my shoulders, I shake my head, not even bothering to refute his observation. “What can I fuckin’ do, Kink?”

  “You can obey your fuckin’ nature for a start. Go and see her.”

  “There’s no point,” I tell him. “I offered to leave the club for her, Kink, give everything up. If that wasn’t enough, I don’t know how else I can persuade her.”

  “You’re falling into a trap.” As my eyebrows raise, he continues, “First rule of being a Dom is giving the sub what she needs, and not what she wants.”

  What Saffie wants is for me to stay far away from her.

  Now it’s his turn to shrug. “You being willing to turn in your patch shows the depth of your feelings for her. She needs someone like you in her corner, whether she realises it or not. What’s to lose, Brother?”

  “She’s leaving, Kink. Either I let her, or I go with her.” And right now, it looks like she’s made her choice about going it alone. My wants don’t even come into it.

  He purses his lips together. “Or you find some middle ground. She needs you, Brother. Go to her.”

  Staying away, hoping she’d come to her senses and contact me hadn’t worked. I could sit on my ass and feel sorry for myself or do something about it. What would it hurt? Another refusal isn’t going to make me feel any worse.

  I lower my gaze to my glass, then lifting my eyes, raise my chin toward Kink. “You’re right. I’ll go visit her.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Saffie

  In the cold light of day, I realised I should have confronted Niran, should have allowed him to explain what that note meant. Questions abound in my head. Who could have put it under my door? Were they trying to warn me? Or was it someone up to mischief trying to push me away? Whatever the reason, that’s the effect they achieved.

  I could have challenged him when he’d called, but I didn’t. I was too afraid I wouldn’t be able to separate truth from lies. Not given my past and all the mistakes I’ve made.

  When I’d run, I hadn’t been thinking at all, nor remembering that the reason I left the apartment was because Duke was getting close to finding me. It was only when I got back to my apartment that I realised this wasn’t the safest place for me.

  Then Token had called reassuring me, for now, I had nothing to worry about. Duke didn’t know how to find me. Not yet, he was sure about that.

  When he asked questions, I listened and responded.

  My new name? Something totally different this time, I don’t care what. Location? I don’t care where. Sure, New York sounds big enough for me to disappear. I’d stick out in a small town.

  What had mattered was when everything would be ready. Just a few more days.

  Was I suspicious he was part of the plan to keep me locked down for Duke? Hell yes, of course I was. But I was also exhausted, worn out, and heartbroken. My baby’s loss is a constant physical ache, now there’s another gap in my life that hurts almost as much. God help me, but I miss Niran. Half of me wishes I’d given him a chance to have his say, the other half congratulates me for leaving his cheating ass.

  I feel in limbo, having neither the strength to go forward nor back. I’m too tired to do more than let things play out as they will. If Token’s to be believed, I’ll have my future sorted out in a few days. If he’s lying, Duke will be coming for me.

  As it is, I’m tired of watching my back all the time. What will be, will be.

  Now two days have passed since I ran from the compound. Two days of me returning to normal. A normal where I’m living by myself, thinking only about what I want and nobody else, which is simply a polite way of saying I’m lonely.

  I miss Niran. Miss his large presence which made me feel safe. Miss him just being there. I try to tell myself I had a lucky escape and thank my lucky stars I found out what he was in time. It doesn’t help.

  I should be used to Niran’s absence, I’d already had a month without him being around to prop me up, but then I’d always known he was just at the end of the line should things get too much. This time, I’d burned my bridges and told him to leave me alone. And in case I became weak, I’d deleted his number from my phone.

  He’s already got an old lady. Or was he planning to kick her to the kerb? I was hardly the best substitute. I didn’t want him in my bed.

  When my mind circles back to the note, things don’t seem to add up. Niran hadn’t acted like a man who’d already had a woman he’d patched. When I’d refused to be his old lady, he’d offered to leave his club. What biker does that?

  My immediate conclusion that he was doing all he could to ensure I stayed until Duke arrived, was beginning to dissipate as the days pass and Duke still hasn’t turned up.

  Did I take the excuse as soon as one had been offered to me? I’d rejected becoming his property, but its more than that. I never want to be dependent on another man again, and Niran’s insistence that he wanted to be with me, even to the extent that he’d move with me and start a life somewhere new, had terrified me. How could I, Saffie, with all her problems, hold any attraction for a man like him?

  It’s been forty-eight hours since I last saw the man, and he still haunts my thoughts.

  A fresh start would do me good. My apartment’s still crap. The arguments still go on around me as if I’d never been away. My neighbours still have noisy sex, feet continue to stomp past my door all hours of the day or night and loud music constantly blares. It’s not too much different from the clubhouse, except no one wears leather, and dealers and druggies tend to be the ones skulking about.

  If I leave, I’ll never see Niran again. But I won’t anyway. I’ve no way of contacting him, and he’s not bothered to follow up with me. Of course not. He’s got an old lady waiting in the wings. But the more I try to tell myself that, the more I think that note was a sham. But what does it matter now?

  As I knew I’d be leaving in a matter of days, I quit my job the first day I was back, in reality not wanting the bother of going anymore. Without any reason to go out, time hangs heavy on my hands and I’m left with far too much time to think and far too many of my thoughts involve Niran.

  If I sit on the couch, I remember him sitting next to me. When I go to the kitchen, I recall him making coffee or pulling some food together and encouraging me to eat. His presence is somehow constant, making me wonder whether I’ve made a mistake. But I know I haven’t. A man like him wouldn’t be good for me, he’d want more than I’m prepared to give. Even if the note writer lied and he hasn’t already, he’ll soon find someone more appropriate for him.

  I go through the motions, doing laundry out of habit, washing up the few plates I’ve used, putting things away to keep the place tidy, basically just ticking along.

  Having finished my tasks, I stand in the middle of the living room. I’ve got to start packing as I’ll be leaving soon. But what to take and what to leave? Will I have transport to take furniture with me, or just take what I can fit in my car? Of course, if it’s New York I’m going to, my car will never get me there. In that case, I’ll more likely be limited what I can carry in a suitcase on the plane.

  Telling myself I need to know before I can begin, I leave everything where it is. I’ve just sat on the couch, my head leaned back and my eyes closed when the doorbell rings and startles me.

  Who would come calling?

  Pulling myself to my feet, I go to the door and stare out of the peephole.

  It’s Niran.

  I don’t know whether to be pleased or dismayed. My initial instinct is to pretend I’m not in. I don’t want to see him; don’t want to hear what he’s got to say. I don’t want to give him the chance to persuade me to stay. All my reasons for not seeing him remain valid.

  But he’s persistent, ringing again, and this time also knocking loudly. When I hear my neighbour start to complain, I get angry he’s got the nerve t
o come here, and for bringing attention to me. Before I can have second thoughts, I fling open the door ready to give him a piece of my mind, words on my lips ready to tell him to go away and stop bothering me, but he strides straight in without giving me a chance to say anything.

  I stand, my hands on my hips, my mouth open.

  “We need to talk, Saffie.” He eyes my apartment with a twist to his mouth, then grinds down on his heel.

  Another cockroach? I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I hear the giveaway crack. Although I can keep my place clean, they flood in from other not so kempt apartments.

  While I’m stifling the need to apologise for the unsanitary conditions, he turns his eyes to me. The depth of his penetrating stare makes me feel uneasy. I look away and address the wall instead of the man himself.

  Even though my heart gives a leap at seeing him again, I know how wrong he and I would be whether or not he’s already tied. I could never give him what he wants from me. I decide to give my case straight from the start. “The only thing you’ve got to say that I’ll listen to is if you’re here to tell me the plans for me leaving are sorted.”

  “I’m not. I’m here to talk to you about us.”

  “There’s no us,” I mutter.

  “Saffie, look at me.” Stubbornly, I stay turned to the wall.

  I hear him sigh. “Saffie, why did you leave that night? Why didn’t you stay and talk to me?”

  Because it’s been all I can think about, I blurt out, “Because you’ve already got an old lady. I know, Niran. I know you’ve been lying to me.”

  “I got a what?” I hear confusion in his voice, then he growls, “What did you just say?”

  There’s a tremor in my voice as I tell him, “I said I know you have an old lady. And if she can’t meet your needs, I certainly wouldn’t be able to fulfil them. You’re better off with the club whores.”

  “Old lady? Club whores?” He sounds perplexed. “Saffie, I certainly haven’t got, nor ever had, an old lady and I’ve no clue why you’d think I have. As for the club whores, all they could complain about is that I never use their services. Once or twice, maybe, when I first joined the club. But never on the regular, and not once since I met you. I’ve not got my dick wet elsewhere either.” A touch of anger taints his tone.