Page 101 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Bolt brings the fake cab to a halt, then he steps out and opens my door. I grin as I see it’s his prosthetic arm he’s using to help me out, but it does so more than adequately. He holds me until I’m balanced on the prosthesis with a crutch under each arm.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Bolt mumbles into my ear. “Your earpiece on?”

With a tiny raise of my chin, I confirm it, then hop around to Saffie’s side, but she’s already getting out without waiting for any gentlemanly action from me.

The steps to the front door take some negotiating, but I manage them without falling on my face or otherwise making a fool of myself. By the time we’ve traversed the small terrace, the door has been opened.

A man in a smart suit stands waiting, his eyes open wide as they land on the woman by my side. He opens his mouth to say something but gets no chance as he’s suddenly pushed to one side.

“Sapphire. Sapphire?” An older man takes his place. He’s got grey hair and watery eyes. “Is it really you?”

“Dad,” Saffie replies, hesitantly, unsure of her welcome.

“Who is it, Winston?” comes a female voice.

“It’s Sapphire!” Saffie’s father calls back excitedly. Then remembering his manners, waves her inside. “Come in, come in.”

Saffie puts her hand on my arm. “This is my friend, Niran.” She hasn’t moved, clearly waiting for me to be included in the invite.

Bartell narrows his eyes, but nevertheless, nods his head. His, “This way,” is directed to both of us.

My crutches make thudding sounds as they hit the wooden floor, the sound echoing in the large space. With Saffie alongside, we follow Bartell across the large hall and into a room on the side.

Bartell can’t take his eyes off of his daughter as he indicates we should take a seat. I ignore the chair he points me to, and instead sit beside her on the couch. Just as our asses hit the cushions, a woman rushes in through the door, her hands busy pinning her hair.

“Sapphire!” she exclaims immediately. “Where have you been?”

Saffie draws in a breath but isn’t given time to answer.

Bartell turns, sends a warning glance toward his wife, and poses a different question. “Have you finished with Duke?”

“Winston. Marriage vows remember,” she hisses.

“Clarissa. We’ve talked about this,” her dad growls. “Marriage vows be damned when it comes to that reprobate. If Sapphire’s left him, then it’s about time.”

“I didn’t leave him,” Saffie starts in a small voice. As her father narrows his eyes at her, she continues, her voice getting stronger with every word. “He tricked me into marrying him, then held me captive for five years. When he nearly killed me, I had to go to the hospital. There, a nurse took pity on me and set me up with some people who could get me free. That was about six months ago.”

“Captive?” Her father seems to have difficulty processing this.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, Sapphire.” Her mother huffs. “Duke kept in touch with us, sent us photos and everything. Such a good son-in-law even though you didn’t want anything to do with us. In the photos you always looked happy.” She sends Saffie a stern look. “Many women feel trapped in marriage, but holding you captive? You were always prone to exaggeration.” While Saffie stiffens at my side, her mom continues, “And who’s this?” Belatedly, she turns to me.

“I’m Niran Simpson, ma’am,” I start politely. “And I’m the man who rescued her from the captivity she was held in. I killed the man who was going to rape her with her husband’s permission.” By the end of my statement, I’m speaking through gritted teeth.

Clarissa gasps. Her hand covers her mouth, and her piercing eyes stare as though trying to work out whether I’m telling the truth.

Bartell’s expression is different to that of her mom’s. He doesn’t appear shocked, just devastated, as if he’d known there was something wrong all along.

He steps closer and takes the chair he’d previously offered to me. His position puts him opposite her. He links his hands between his spread knees.

“Why didn’t you come to me, instead of relying on strangers?” His quick glance my way shows he’s numbering me one of them.

Saffie shrugs. Raising her hand, she wipes a tear from her eye, then looks at the moisture on her hand as if it’s betrayed her. “Duke told me you hated me. I didn’t know if you’d help, or if you’d send me back to him.” She gives a stern look at her mom, who has the grace to turn away and not meet her eyes.

Bolt’s voice sounds through the device in my ear. “All clear out here.” Having the confirmation Duke hasn’t yet turned up, I focus back on the scene playing around me.

“Sapphire, I don’t know how to believe what you’re saying. You chose Duke, you married him.” The reminder comes unhelpfully from her mom. “Marriage vows—”

“Fuck marriage vows, Mom,” Saffie cries out. “Duke tricked me. He wasn’t a businessman, he was a member of a motorcycle club, and that’s where he took me. He abused me and gave me no freedom. But you knew where I was.” She addresses the final comment to her father.

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