Page 131 of Devil's Dilemma

“Because that’s how they think of us, darlin’. It isn’t right, but there you go. That’s what we’re always up against. In their world they consider us the same as any criminal gang.”

“That’s not fair.”

I smile at her objection. “It is what it is, darlin’.”

Flicking the indicator, I make a right turn, then pull the car up behind Rufus’ on the driveway. Before I’ve turned the engine off, her mom has opened the front door and is looking out anxiously. I notice her face relaxes slightly when Mel steps out of the car. I think she might have suspected she’d be in tears, and to be honest, that wouldn’t have surprised me either. She’s just had everything bad that’s happened to her exposed and dissected, and I’d be astonished if the feds hadn’t tried to discredit her.

But I’m not going to interrogate her, she’s had enough of that for one day. Instead, I’ll talk to her dad.

As Mel disappears into the house with her mom, I turn to Rufus. But he anticipates my question without me having to put it into words.

“We’ll talk in my study.”

I trail behind him, unsurprised his first action is to pour two whiskeys. He downs half of his in one go.

Then raises his eyebrow when he sees me watching. “I know I’ve heard it all before, but hearing it again today? Fucking hard.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard him swear.

“Mel cope okay?”

“Solid as a rock. They couldn’t shake her.”

I sit down and take a sip of my own drink. “How do you read it?”

His shoulders rise and fall. “They’re trying to wriggle out of it, of course. Will try to protect one of their own. They did bring up the kidnapping.”

I sit forward sharply. “What did they say?”

“That Skull’s wife wasn’t confirming his story. It’s Skull’s word against everyone else.”

Good on Redfor keeping tabs on her and offering his support. Both women had been used by the same man. Though she’d been scared at the time, if Clare hadn’t been brought to the Vegas compound and seen Mel, and witnessed her husband’s reaction, she’d never have known about his deceit. He’d have continued going undercover for months or years at a time and could have been with any number of women while she sat at home waiting.

We discuss what the FBI agents had said and Rufus’ impressions for a while, then our conversation peters out.

“Well, let’s go and join the women.”

“Sir, could I ask you something?” I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I’m not totally sure this is it, but I’ll take my chance. For some reason, I feel strangely nervous. At Rufus’ nod, I swallow. “I’d like your permission to ask your daughter to marry me.”

I hold my breath. Of course, if he says no, she’s a grown woman and can make up her own mind. I don’t really need his go ahead, but after the way Skull treated her, I want to do everything right. And that means trying to get her family on board with our relationship.

I’ve shocked Rufus. For a moment his face is unreadable, and it dawns on me, having a biker in the family might not be what he wants or hoped for his daughter. As I watch him, trying to gauge his reaction, his lips suddenly curve.

He holds out his hand, I take it. Instead of shaking it as I expect, he lays his other on top. “Pyro, I couldn’t have chosen a better man for my daughter. You’ve stood by her through thick and thin. I know you’ll never do anything to hurt her.” His eyes appear to water. “Even now, you’re doing things right. You have my blessing, and I know I speak for Angela too.”

I feel choked up myself.

Now we do shake hands, and, as neither of us are capable of speaking, we leave his study.

Mel and her mom are in the kitchen, sorting out food. Mel’s chuckling, and I’m pleased to see she’s coping after the interrogation she went through today. Suddenly the ring I have ready is burning a hole in my pocket. My plan had been to take her out to a swanky place and do everything properly, but nothing seems more right than sharing this moment with the other people who love her.

There, in the kitchen, in the space between the sink and the cooker, I lower myself onto one knee in front of her and take her hand.

As she looks down, her brow furrowed in confusion, I take a deep breath and ask, “Melissa Martins, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

My other hand holds tight to the ring box in my pocket.

Mel stares down.

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