Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3)

by Natasha Thomas

  “I bet you will little brother. Can’t say that’d be an altogether bad place to have her either.” Just like that my thoughts turn carnal. Visions of Priss cuffed to both corners of my headboard, naked, spread out for me to devour filter through my head. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what she looks like underneath her clothes, and the image has me hard as a fucking rock in seconds.

  More than a handful of times over summer I’ve seen her in a bikini sunbaking down at the lake, or swimming with Tilly. And just as many times I’ve wanted to beat the shit out of any man I’ve seen looking in her general direction. The woman gets far too much male attention, something I plan on putting a stop to real soon. Not that I’m surprised. Fuck. I look plenty myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with other guys doing the same.

  Fantasies are all I’ve had for the last six years, and in saying that I’ve only let them turn erotic for the last four of those. When I say erotic what I really mean is they turn to dirty, nasty, no holds barred fucking. No sweet touches or caresses. No tender kisses or whispering of sweet nothings. Just headboard banging, hair pulling, nail scratching, shoulder biting fucking. I want to make love to Priss more than my next breath, but I can tell you now the first few times I have her underneath me are going to be hard and fast to take the edge off.

  These thoughts aren’t going anywhere productive, and they have the ability to distract me from my ultimate goal, so I shut them down as fast as they come. Getting her back in my life period is the game plan. There’ll be more than enough time to re-enact every dirty fantasy I’ve ever had staring her later. For now I need to formulate an approach that will without a doubt get me, and her in the same room for me to be able to make this happen. There’s only one person I can think of that might agree to help me make this happen, especially now my brothers aren’t going to be of any assistance …Tilly.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Priscilla

  Priscilla’s Rules to live by 101

  “Common sense is like deodorant;

  The people who need it the most never use it!”

  The last two weeks haven’t given me any reprieve from my idea of a nightmare come to life. I stupidly thought that when the Adams brothers knew the details of my attack that would be the end of it. Sure I knew they’d want to talk about it. They’d want to ask questions, and I was fine with that. What I wasn’t okay with was them convincing me to trust them, telling me that they’d keep it to themselves when they didn’t.

  It hurt more than I can put into words finding out Brody, Noah, Kai, and Reid lied to me. They’d never lied to me before so I thought it was safe to assume they never would. I don’t know why they bothered lying to begin with. Did they honestly think I wouldn’t find out? Clearly they don’t know the same people I do. Because I swear the MC is more like a sorority house filled with gossiping nineteen-year-old girls some days than a motorcycle club filled with badass men. Juicy gossip to those guys is like cake to a fat kid. They love it. They eat it up ravenously.

  Forty-eight hours after my humiliating disclosure, in my kitchen over Chinese food I was paid visits by Priest, Pipe, Reaper, Kendall and Declan, V, Ade, and Lou. Thankfully Lou came on her own. However, she was pissed enough for two people, so I guess that made up for Billy’s absence. Ade’s visit was the one that finally broke me out of my self-inflicted pity party. It did it forcefully, but at the same time remarkably well. Seeing as I’d been indulging in said pity party for three days it was probably time to give it up anyway, Ade was just the catalyst for making that happen sooner rather than later. Something I was in the end extremely grateful for.

  I came away after talking to Ade feeling like an absolute bitch. Everything she said made sense. She gave me a lot of perspective on my situation, gave me another way to think about things. It didn’t cure all, but it was a good start on the way to understanding.

  Around lunchtime on the third day following the ‘Adam’s Family Roasting’, that’s what I’ve taken to calling it, Ade strolled into my house, through my bedroom, and ripped the covers off me. Mind you at that point I was perfectly happy in my vain attempt to block out the world outside of my bedroom, so I didn’t take to her intrusion all that well. I mean seriously, give a girl a break pity parties take a lot out of you. Standing at the side of my bed with her hands on her hips Ade narrows her eyes at me speaking in a voice that doesn’t leave a lot of room for negotiation.

  “You’ve got ten minutes to get your ass out of bed, get in the goddamned shower, brush that rats nest that you call hair, and brush your teeth. I’m sure they’re growing mould by now Priss. While you do that, I’ll be in the kitchen starting coffee. If you’re not out there in ten minutes I’ll come back in here and drag you out by your nasty hair if I have to. Understand?”

  In her current mood I’m not going to argue with her. Pissed off Ade is fucking scary. So I did what I was told making it to the kitchen with a minute to spare. Go me! Sitting down at the table across from her I mumble with a healthy injection of sarcasm,

  “Thanks.” What else can I say? I’m not thankful she dragged me out of bed, and I’m not thankful she’s not letting me wallow in my own misery. Showing appreciation for the coffee is the best I can do right now. She can take it or leave it as far as I’m concerned.

  Tapping her short purple painted nails on her mug Ade is shaking her head at me sadly. It’s not the first time I’ve seen that look in the last three days, I think I’m becoming immune to it by now.

  “You know I expected better of you. Of all the women in our harem I can see Kendall and V needing their heads pulled out of their asses. Lou, well she’s different, I can’t even explain the havoc she’d create if she was in your position, but I do know she’d need to be bailed out of jail by now so she doesn’t count. But you? You’re the strongest of them all, and to watch you wither away and die like you are is not fucking on, and I’m not going to watch it any more. Neither is anyone else, so you’ve got a choice. You listen to me or you talk to them. It’s up to you.”

  My jaw gapes open, I’m pretty sure I’m doing an awesome impression of a Gropper at the moment. She can’t be serious? After what I found out about Tank how could I not be torn apart? Keeping what he did from me isn’t like forgetting to tell me he got a new tattoo, or he waxed his balls…he forgot an entire marriage for Christs sake. A long one.

  “You’re shitting me? This chat’s over Ade if this is what you wanted to talk about. I’m going back to bed and the cocoon I rolled myself in before you so rudely disturbed me.”

  I’m not standing fully before she slaps her palm on the surface of the table with a resounding thump grabbing my attention.

  “Sit the fuck down. We’re not done and you can give yourself the courtesy of hearing me out. I’m not here for me and trust me you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  Eyeing her cautiously I ease my way back into the chair. It looks like I’m not getting rid of her as easily as I first thought. Hmmm…

  “Say what you need to say then leave me in peace, okay? I love you Ade but I’m really not hip on hearing another lecture right now.” The parade of MC members and their significant others that have come and gone through my house in the last two days have taken it out of me. It’s fucking exhausting having to reassure everyone recounting the details to all but Kendall’s dog, Able.

  Clearing her throat she straightens nodding her agreement.

  “I’m going to start by saying what happened to you sucks. I mean, not just a little bit, but a fucking whole hell of a lot. And for that I’m sorry.” I give her a brittle smile in response because that’s all I can muster. “I’m guessing by now you know it could’ve been a lot worse, and because it wasn’t you should be forever grateful.” Nodding, I watch as her eyes blink rapidly. I don’t speak but I am curious as to what would bring her close to tears. “Not many people know my story, and isn’t because I’m ashamed of it, or because I necessarily intended to keep it a secret. I just don’t want the looks of pity
anymore. And I sure as shit don’t want people that can’t possibly understand what I went through to tell me they do. I left that behind when I left Boulder and Furnace in my rear-view mirror to move here. If I tell you will you listen? I mean really listen? Because honestly, I don’t want to waste my breath if you won’t.”

  Ade looks nervous, it’s a look I’ve never seen her wear before. Not even when she visited the clubhouse for the first time, and that would scare the shit out of most people.

  “Of course Ade. I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.” I’m not getting out of it, and by the looks of it she needs to tell me whatever it is as much as I need to hear it.

  Without delay Ade launches into her horrifying story. I’m not too proud to admit I cried almost the whole way through it.

  “My mother was a junkie. All throughout her pregnancy with me, before, and I’m pretty sure afterwards as well. I was born addicted to Meth, Cocaine, Heroin, you name it I was addicted to it. From what I’ve been told I was a really sick baby. Obviously because I mean who wouldn’t be with all that shit floating around their system. My mother dropped me in a dumpster and walked away when I was four days old. I’ve never heard from her and I’ve never gone looking for her either. I can only assume she’s alive out there none the wiser that I survived.” Tears are already welling in my eyes, but Ade give my hand a squeeze to reassure me it’s okay. “You know Boss and Diesel?” At my nod she continues, “Yeah they’re pretty hard to miss.” she says on a giggle and she’s not wrong.

  You’d have to be deprived of all five senses not to know they’re in the same room as you. Jesus, they own the room when they enter it. I’m not ashamed to say they’re fucking H.O.T too so of course I’ve noticed them.

  “Diesel’s mom, Emily, was the woman who found me in that dumpster and took me to the hospital. Originally the doctors and nurses told her they didn’t think I’d make it through the first night. I was almost hypothermic. Addicted to a cocktail of different drugs. Underweight and probably premature. Apparently Emily sat by my crib in the NICU ward all night praying I’d get better, singing lullaby’s to me. Whatever she did must have worked because I made it through the first night, and the next then every night that followed. As soon as she saw I was going to make a full recovery Emily began applying to become my foster parent. CPS weren’t helpful. Like not at all. They declined all her applications based on her ties to Vengeance MC. She made three of them. They fed her some line about not being assured of my safety. Not being able to place an infant with someone that has active ties to a criminal organisation.”

  Ade scoffs at her statement, so I take the opportunity to ask,

  “I heard that Diesel’s dad passed away. How does that make her have active ties to the MC? She wasn’t an old lady anymore.” I know enough about the MC to know that when your old man passes whilst active within the MC, the club will still take care of you. Check in on you regularly. Make sure you have what you need. But you don’t hold the position of old lady anymore. At least not a recognised one.

  Tapping her fingers against the mug again this time she answers with exasperation.

  “Exactly! Even though we’ll never know, the truth is CPS can’t be seen placing children in the care of anyone linked with an MC. It’s not good for publicity or some shit like that. Who knows what goes through their small-minded pea brains?” Shaking her head in anger Ade goes on. “After months detoxing, putting on weight, and getting stronger CPS handed me to my first foster family. I didn’t find out until later, like a decade and a half later, that CPS forbade any of my foster families contact with Emily or anyone attached to Vengeance for that matter. I don’t remember a lot about the first few families. I mean I was young and had five foster placements under my belt by the time was five-years-old. The reasons for displacing me varied. Anything from I wouldn’t settle, to me having tantrums they couldn’t control, to being worried I’d turn that anger on one of their kids. Like I said, I don’t remember back that far but I know I was quiet kid. I liked to stay in my room and I never caused trouble. Not to my knowledge anyway.” Ade shrugs taking a sip of her cold coffee. “The first family I can actually recall anything about was the Jennings family. They had three kids of their own and I know for a fact I was just a payday to them, they told me as much. I remember being hungry a lot. I got fed maybe three, four times a week at best, and most of those times I’d have to do a full days’ worth of chores just to get a sandwich. Anyway, that was probably the nicest foster home I was placed in, they got progressively worse from there.”

  Jesus Christ. Poor Ade. I can’t imagine Tilly having to live that way, nor would I want to. My heart breaks for everything Ade went through, but I have to ask,

  “I’m so sorry Ade for everything, but I’m not sure what this has to do with me? I haven’t ever been in foster care and neither has Tilly.”

  On a chuckle she says,

  “Slow your roll I’m getting there chicky. As I was saying, they got worse. Much worse. Ranging from smacking me around for no reason other than because they could, to the last place I was in before I ran away. That one was hell on Earth. It was also the first one I ever felt truly fearful of too. I was about fourteen I think. No one’s ever told me my birthday so it’s just a guess.” Holy shit! Ade doesn’t even know her own birthday. I can’t even fathom not knowing the simplest detail about myself. Without taking a breath Ade keeps going. “But working backwards I think it’s about right. I developed early, lucky me, so by thirteen I looked like a sixteen-seventeen-year-old, not what you want when you live in foster care. The older son of the couple that took me in took a liking to me.”

  A shiver of revulsion goes through Ade as she recalls it. I can’t help one of my own creeping down my spine at the same time.

  “Lucas was twenty and in college, but he came home most weekends and those days I prayed for Monday come as fast as possible. For just over a year he raped and beat me. Not that it matters, because what he did was sick regardless, but I was a virgin the first time it happened. I’ll never forget the pain, the blood, and the beating I got because I cried.” Instantaneous sobs wrack my body, my tears stinging my freshly washed cheeks. Ade gives me a minute to pull myself together and wipe my eyes. Smiling softly she nods to the tissues. “The last time he raped me was the time I ran away. I couldn’t take it anymore, actually I’m surprised I did for as long as I had. Anyway, for months I’d been going to the public libraries searching archives on the microfiches looking for stories on dumped babies. I’d overheard the previous foster family talking about how they understood why my mother dumped me, saying stuff like they would’ve done the same in her position.”

  I gasp and blurt out,

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She chuckles at my outburst and with a sly smile says,

  “Nope. No fucking joke. I learnt to turn off to their hateful words pretty quickly. If you didn’t grow a thick skin you didn’t survive in that environment for long. Some of them liked nothing more than to see you cry, so I never gave them the satisfaction. Something about what they said stuck though, so I started searching. Finally I found one that mentioned an old lady of Vengeance MC in Furnace, Colorado reporting an infant to the local hospital after finding her abandoned in a dumpster. The time frame fit and it was the only article of its type I came across, so I took a chance. In hindsight it was a fucking stupid one because what if they weren’t the right people? Anything could have happened to me. And how was I to know it wouldn’t have been worse than what I was already going through? By this point I didn’t have much choice. My options were limited, I knew if I stayed any longer Lucas would probably kill me the next time. The last time he violated me was by far the worst. I tried to close my eyes, and picture the lady Emily who had already saved me once. I only had a grainy picture to go by, but that image got me through it. Why?” she says shrugging, “I don’t know, but I was glad for it. And because I didn’t fight back like I normally did Lucas made sure the beatin
g he gave me was worse than any he’d given me before. He liked when I fought him. He was a truly sick bastard, so the fact that it turned him on when I did shouldn’t surprise me. I think he broke some ribs that time. I know I had two black eyes, my nose was broken, and I was definitely black and blue but nothing was going to stop me from getting the fuck out of there.”

  Impatiently I ask,

  “How did you? I mean how did you get out if you were so broken? I’m shocked you could even move, let alone escape.”

  Grinning an evil smile at me she answers with,

  “I wasn’t broken chicky. My body might have been a bit worse for wear, but my mind was all there and I knew exactly what I had to do. I’d planned it in my head so many times that it came like second nature. A humans’ capacity for self-preservation is an amazing thing when faced with the reality of life or death.” I can only imagine it would be and my mind goes to what I would’ve done if faced I was with the same thing. Before I can go too far down that path she pulls me back. “I waited until everyone was asleep and climbed out my bedroom window two stories up. I’d managed to jimmy it open the day before. They locked me in all the time, so making sure that window was open was the first thing on my list. Climbing down hurt like a bitch, but I would’ve done anything to get out of there. Hitting the ground with broken ribs was even worse but I survived. Over the course of a month I’d been stealing money out of their wallets, only little bits at a time because I didn’t want them catching on before I could put my plan into action. I’m not proud I stooped to stealing, but like I said it was do or die by this point. I was living in Minneapolis near Rochester, so getting to Denver took nearly sixteen hours on the bus. My ribs ached by the time I got there and I wanted to sleep for a week, I didn’t care where by then. The bus station would have done but I knew it wasn’t safe enough.” She lets out a self-depreciating chuckle. “So I hitchhiked. Yeah, don’t say it. I was young, stupid, and desperate, and in those circumstances you’ll do pretty much anything. I just wanted to make it to Vengeance’s clubhouse and I wasn’t stopping until I did. At the very least I wanted a bed. Maybe a shower. And some food wouldn’t have gone astray either.”