Page 116 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

I turn to her, telling her fiercely, “You do everything I fuckin’ say, Saffie.”

“Of course I will. I’m not stupid, Niran. The last thing I want is for Duke to take me again. But we have to do this, can’t you see? Mary doesn’t have much time. She needs to be back in the hospital. They wouldn’t have kept her in if she didn’t need to be there.”

Yesterday, I was all set to return to San Diego with Saffie, thinking she’d be the one I’d need to persuade. Now, I’d do anything to stay here and not expose her to danger.

Wordlessly, I follow her back to our room and watch as she empties the closet and drawers. We’ve accumulated more than I expected staying here. She puts the clothing onto the bed, and I pack the duffel bags Bolt dropped off for us. When everything which shows we’ve ever occupied this room has been removed, I hold out my arms.

She comes straight into them. The tension I feel in her belies her confidence that she’d just expressed. I’m not stupid. I know she must be terrified at the risk she’s proposing to take. But if I’m completely honest, using her is the only way I can see of getting Mary back, and quick enough before being held captive causes harm to her and the baby. I’m more than aware we’ve got no time.

Trying to find Duke on our own is like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack of immense proportions. If we’re going to save Mary, we have to move fast.

“You ready in there?” Bolt’s voice shouts through the door.

Saffie’s there and opening it before I can get to my feet. “We’re ready.”

He comes in, hefts both duffels over his shoulder, then gives me a chin lift. “Brute’s out front with the truck.”

Standing, I raise my chin back, then follow my woman and Bolt out.

The clubroom is full of all the brothers not going to San Diego. Grinch steps forward and envelopes Saffie in a bear hug.

“You take fuckin’ care, little lady,” he growls at her, then glances toward me. “You’ll answer to me if any harm comes to her.”

“I’ll miss you,” Saffie replies with a catch in her voice.

“You need me, and I’ll be there. You got me?” Saffie’s nod shows that she has.

Mystic is missing, but Goofy’s here and he hugs her too. But when Honor and Duty step up, my barely suppressed snarl means they’re satisfied with just shaking hands.

One by one I’m subjected to man hugs and, considering my crutches, gentle, thank fuck, slaps to my back. When Piston, Rascal, Honor, Duty, Cowboy and the old-timers have finished with me, Snatcher steps forward holding out his hand. As I take it, he pulls me in.

“You’re welcome in Utah anytime, Niran. Both you and Saffie.”

“Thanks.” I feel a bit choked up myself, so clear my throat and try again. “Thanks for everything, Snatcher.”

“Are we going or not?” Preacher yells impatiently.

Swift passes App into Gears’ care, then heads to the door. As Stormy, Swift, Road, Bolt and Thor follow her out, Saffie and I, both taking one last look back at our temporary home, go to the door. I know I’ll have bittersweet memories of this clubhouse. It’s been a place where I’ve more often than not been in pain, but also the place that finally brought me and Saffie together, and where these men have removed that final obstacle, the one where she’d sworn never to get involved with another biker.

The journey to the small airfield is short, and there I find the missing member as Mystic steps toward Preacher and updates him on the condition of the plane. Apparently, it’s been fully serviced and checked after yesterday’s outing to Nevada. A last round of goodbyes, then we’re seated on the plane, and before I really have time to process, are landing in a private airfield just outside of San Diego.

Two trucks are waiting for us, one driven by Ross wearing his new prospect cut, and one by Connor.

“Fuckin’ glad to see you,” I tell Ross. “Thought for a moment you’d been poisoned.”

He looks sheepish. “Nah, just ketamine, thank fuck. I’m sorry as fuck about that, Niran. I let you all down.”

“No, you did not.” I grimace. “You weren’t to know that bitch Susie.”

“Tell that to Grumbler,” he mumbles, ruefully rubbing at the reddened patch of skin I now notice on his cheek. In a day or so that will turn purple.

I’m itching for news, but there’s no point asking either him or Connor. Club business isn’t shared with prospects. So I take my seat in the truck, arranging my cast so it’s comfortable, and impatiently watch the scenery go past.

Saffie holds my hand tightly, her tension seeming to mount the closer we get to the clubhouse.

“You don’t need to do this,” I tell her quietly. “Fuck, after all you’ve been through, everyone will understand.”

“I do,” she replies, her voice shaking. “It’s the quickest way to get Mary.”

---