Page 53 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

My body aches and so does my soul. I’m bleeding just as I was told to expect and will be for quite some days. Surprisingly, I was told I don’t need a checkup unless things don’t seem to be proceeding well. Even at the stage I was at, the procedure was simple with few complications. I’d rather have a huge visible scar to match the one in my heart.

Will I ever forgive myself?Not for having the termination, I can’t see I had any choice, but for damaging my baby in the first place.

I can’t fully sleep, but I must doze, waking with a start. That’s when my mind starts working overtime all over again. Gradually, once more I drift off, veering between dreams where I’m holding a healthy baby in my arms, and nightmares where he’s born hideously deformed. The night passes torturously slow. When dawn comes, I’m lying awake, only not stirring because of the man who’s currently asleep in my living room.

Suddenly conscious I’d offered him nothing, no blanket or pillow to ease his sleep, I’m embarrassed to go out and see him. But needs must, my bladder’s demands are insistent, so finally I rise, dressing before heading to the bathroom.

As I pass the living room, I see Niran’s awake—well, he probably didn’t get much rest, he’s too big to lie on my couch—and is wolfing down a piece of cold pizza that must have been left over from last night.

He nods at me as I indicate the bathroom, and after taking a few more minutes of reprieve, I go out to meet him.

“Sleep okay?”

For an answer, I shrug. Terribly is the answer, but probably better than he had.

“The prospect will be here shortly. You gonna want something to eat? He’ll go out and get anything we want.” He pauses, then adds, “You need any more supplies?”

Despite myself, my lips quirk. “You made him buy that stuff, didn’t you? Is a big man like you afraid of going yourself?”

Niran snorts. “Babe, takes more than a few feminine products to embarrass me. I wanted to make sure you had someone with you, that’s why I stayed. And if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve got no transport. But yeah, I’ll admit, I did enjoy yanking Kid’s chain.” He chuckles to himself.

Carefully, I sit myself on a chair, easing myself down as my stomach is hurting similar to having terrible period pain.

Niran stares at me. He’d noticed my grimace, and his head tilts as if he’s not too sure whether I’m hurting, or whether it’s something he’s said. “Don’t worry about Kid, Saffie. We give all the prospects shit, giving them bum jobs and running them off their feet as a test. They need to prove their loyalty before they patch in, and if Kid can’t handle a bit of embarrassment, then he’s not the man I want at my back.”

Once again, I wonder about the Satan’s Devils MC. If making their prospects feel awkward is the most hazing they do, they’re not like the Crazy Wolves. Prospects with the Wolves don’t have it easy. Once, a tall gangly lad was forced to fight Slit. The sergeant-at-arms was twice his size, and his weight all muscle. It was an uneven fight, and the result was guaranteed from the time the scared youngster had bravely held up his fists. He had escaped with his life, but his back was broken and would never be fixed.

If you got patched into the Crazy Wolves, you had to prove you were one of them. Prepared to fight literally to the death for a chance to wear their patch, or to commit murder, kidnap, and torture on their behalf.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. As Niran’s posture is relaxed when he peers out the peephole, I gather it’s probably who he’s expecting. He opens the door and in steps who I assume is the expected prospect as he’s wearing a cut.

Ushering him in, Niran closes the door and locks it.

“Saffie, this is Kid. Kid, Saffie.”

I raise my chin. I don’t think I’ve ever been introduced to a prospect so politely before. On his part, Kid offers me a wide grin.

“Any news from the clubhouse?” Niran asks.

Kid shrugs and looks sheepish. “I, er, didn’t stay there last night. Came straight from…” When his voice trails off and Niran rolls his eyes, I can guess what he was going to allude to was some female’s bed.

“What do you want to eat?” Niran turns his body slightly to face me. “Kid will go out and collect something.”

I thought I’d never want food again, but at that point, my stomach rumbles. I might want to give up, but the gnawing pains in my gut tell me I’ll have a fight with my body.

“There’s a breakfast place close by that delivers. Why don’t we just order from there?”

Niran glances at me, looks at Kid, then inclines his head. “Nah. Kid can go collect it.”

Armed with our orders, the prospect, who doesn’t seem at all put out, leaves again.

Niran’s a rock that first day. I’m numb, I can’t think of anything. While I sit in a daze, unable to believe I’m no longer pregnant, Kid, after delivering breakfast, is sent off grocery shopping, then he and Niran put it away. I have no appetite but pick at food that’s put in front of me. At some point, Niran leaves as he’s got some business he needs doing.Club business,I think to myself, not that I let on that I already know were I to ask, he wouldn’t tell me. Kid stays with me, but plays on his phone, keeping quiet and out of the way.

Initially, I cast him in the role of prison guard, then realised my past was influencing me. Kid gives off no vibe he’d stop me if I wanted to leave. In fact, I even tested him, saying I was going out to see a neighbour, then when he nodded, I said I’d changed my mind.

Kid’s okay, I decide. Unassuming, fading into the background, not commenting when I disappear into my bedroom when the next bout of immense despair hits. I am mindful, though, not to talk to him.I can’t risk another Jude.

Niran returns that evening, quickly dismissing the prospect. He comes prepared, bringing a new sleeping bag with him to replace the one I’d given to the homeless man living on the street outside.

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