Page 11 of The Devil's Weakness

I can’t see his face, but the large image on his back is unmistakable.

A skull and crossbones engulfed in flames.

“Trying and doing are two very different things,pig. The next time you miss a pickup, I won’ttryto break your legs. I’ll fuckingdoit.”

Shock forces my eyes wide—both at his words as well as Captain Turner’s involvement with the Devil’s Skull. The brittle brick that my shoulder is pressed against chooses that moment to crumble. Various sized chunks of clay and mortar fall to the ground at my feet, sounding as loud as a cannon and alerting the men to my presence. I pull my head back quickly, but I know they’ve seen me. I reach for the door handle, but before I can open it, I feel firm hands grabbing me from behind.

He flips me around as though I weigh nothing, a testament to his strength.

Wrath narrows his dark eyes as he fists the front of my shirt with both of his hands.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop,little girl?”

Although I’m scared shitless, I’m not a pushover, and I won’t let anyone patronize me like that.

“I’mnota little girl,” I challenge.

I watch his nostrils flare, and I try to determine if he’s more irritated or impressed that I talked back to him.

“Let her go. She didn’t see anything.” Captain Turner pins me with a serious stare over this monster’s shoulder.

He’s both telling me and warning me not to let anyone know what I may have seen or heard.

I may not be a pushover, but I’m also not stupid.

“I didn’t see anything,” I repeat, a slight shake to my voice.

He doesn’t let go of me right away. Instead, his eerie stare bounces back and forth between my eyes as his jaw twitches. As if he’s debating his next move. Is he going to say something else? Do something?

I try to look away, but I can’t. Until he blinks, and it’s as if he’s severed a connection that kept my eyes on his. My eyes fall to his chest. His black t-shirt is ratty, and the leather vest he wears has a patch on the lower, right-hand side that says,Enforcer. His woodsy musk floats in the air around me, and I hate how much I love the smell of him. If I weren’t scared out of my mind, I think I’d be turned on.

Finally, his fists loosen, releasing the fabric of my shirt, and he takes a step back. He looks from me to Turner, sending us each a final warning, before straddling his bike and tearing out of the parking lot.

Finally, I exhale the breath I’m holding, and Captain Turner speaks up.

“I’ll do it.” He gestures toward the bag of trash I forgot I was holding. “Go on inside and have yourself a pleasant night, Sasha.”

He nods, once again warning me to keep quiet if I know what’s good for me.

I haven’t come into close contact with theEnforcersince then, but I’ve caught him staring at me from a distance around town a few times. I don’t know if it’s by coincidence or if he’s following me. Either way, he’s off the hinges, and he scares the shit out of me.

And you’re the stupid girl who ran his friend off the road.

I think the initial shock of the accident wore off while I was trying to get Michael situated and hightail it out of town. Now that I’m all alone in a scary and quiet motel room, tears rise to the surface, and I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m assuming things will blow over, and I’ll be able to return in a couple of days, but what if I’m wrong? Will I ever be able to go home? If the man dies and the Devil’s Skull doesn’t kill me, I could end up spending the rest of my life in jail. If not for the accident, then for running when I should have stayed.

God, I never should have run. What the fuck was I thinking?

Curling into the fetal position on the bed, I sob uncontrollably. I miss my father. Now, more than ever, I need him here. I’m angry about my earlier interaction with Michael. Will I ever see him again? Will I get the chance to tell him I’m sorry for how we left things?

I lay there for God only knows how long, exhausted. All of my energy has faded away. I close my eyes and silently pray that when I wake up tomorrow, this will all have been a dream. With tear-stained cheeks, I cry myself to sleep.

Chapter Four

Hawkand I share the same sentiment about finding the bastard who did this to Iron. I follow Stone out of the infirmary and see that the entire Club is waiting for us in the main room of the clubhouse. The second they hear the door open, they jump to attention and look to us for answers.

“How is he, Boss?” Cap asks.

“Iron’s condition is critical, but his vitals are stable,” Stone begins, his face more grave than usual as he explains the extent of Iron’s injuries. “Hawk isn’t sure about an injury to Iron’s neck. Since he can’t do a scan, we’ll have to wait until he wakes up for him to tell us if something is wrong.”

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