Page 118 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Thirty-Two

Grumbler

“They’re here,” Salem calls out, quite unnecessarily as a deaf man would be able to hear the trucks as they approach the clubhouse.

As I rise from my stool, Prez reaches out his hand and grabs my shoulder. “Easy, Brother.”

Shrugging him off, I make my way to the door and step out into the sunlight. The trucks pull to a halt. The one Connor is driving is first, and I eagerly watch the bodies getting out. I recognise Stormy, Preacher, Swift, Road and Thor, but not the man I’m looking for.

I stomp to the next, smaller, truck. Bolt’s out first and is going to the back door. He takes a pair of crutches in one hand and offers his arm to the man I’m looking for. When Niran’s standing, balanced on one leg, he passes the crutches to him.

My rage can’t be contained. I take the next steps at a run and place my fist in Niran’s face. “This is all your fuckin’ fault!” I roar.

“Grumbler!” Salem’s there, holding my arm tight, preventing me punching him again.

At least my first found its target and did its job. Unbalanced, Niran’s fallen to the ground. He’s shaking his head and wiping blood from a cut lip.

“Deserve that, Brother.” He looks up into my face.

“And fuckin’ more,” I tell him, spittle coming out of my mouth. “My fuckin’ old lady’s gone because you brought that bastard down on us.” I struggle to try to get out of the enforcer’s hold, but it seems I’m going nowhere.

“It’s not his fault,” a new voice says, as Saffie places herself between me and Niran, her hands on her hips. “If you want to blame anyone, it’s me.”

“Fuckin’ touch her and I’ll kill you,” Niran growls, as Bolt once again helps him get to his feet.

What? They think they need to warn me not to hit a woman? I’d never dream of doing such a thing. The very idea pulls me up, changing my anger into grief in a split second. My face becomes wet with soundless tears as I face the woman in front of me down.

“It’s not your fault, Saffie. You asked for none of this. But Duke’s got my woman, and it’s tearing me apart inside.”

“I’m so sorry,” Saffie wails, throwing herself at me. Taken by surprise, I hug her tight. “I’m going to give myself up so you’ll have her back by your side. Right where she’s meant to be.”

I clutch at her, hearing her suggestion and immediately knowing that’s not right.

“No one’s going to be giving themselves up to that fucker!” Lost’s voice booms. “Now Niran’s back, we’ll have church.”

“Welcome home.” I see Pennywise going to Niran and slapping him on the back as I turn and almost run after Lost, but such pleasantries are beyond me.

I barely know which way is up. I never want to get a call like I got in the early hours of this morning.

“Mr. Winslow, your wife isn’t in the hospital. Have you any idea where she might have gone? Is she with you?”

What the fuck? “No she’s fuckin’ not. What do you mean, she’s not in the hospital?”

“A nurse just checked her room.”

“What about the man who was there?” Who was it? Oh yes, the new prospect, Ross. I’d left my old lady in his hands.

“He appears drunk,” the anonymous voice told me. “We’re trying to rouse him now.”

My initial snarl of rage was suppressed as my brain kicks into gear. A man who wants a patch doesn’t get drunk on the job. “I think you’ll find he was drugged. Check your fuckin’ security tapes. If my old lady is gone, it wasn’t her fuckin’ choice.” My Mary is sensible. She might not like being confined to a hospital bed, but she’d do nothing to risk our kid.

Having put the phone on speaker, I was already halfway dressed.

“We’ll do that, of course, Mr. Winslow. I just needed to check whether she went home. Have you any idea where else she would have gone?”

“She didn’t leave of her own fuckin’ accord,” I screamed at her.

“If that’s the case, the police will need to be involved.”

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