Page 24 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Eight

Niran

My non-reaction enrages her, but I let her words fall from me like water off a duck’s back. Hating myself for not being able to reassure her, I leave as I came in. Stoic and unresponsive.

As I close the door, the crash of the plate smashing reaches my ears. Inwardly, I grin. Saffie’s broken but not defeated. If she’d just given in, then I’d probably have more difficulty getting her to take a chance on an escape attempt should one present itself.

Locking her in and me out, I take up my position playing sentry again, wondering whether I’ll be relieved later, while knowing I’ll happily stand here for twenty-four hours as long as it means I’m the one to protect her.

As the question of where I’ll be sleeping hasn’t been addressed, I wonder whether they want to test me, see how long I’ll stand here. A cold feeling inside of me warns it could be because they don’t expect I’ll live out the day. Dead men need no accommodation.

It’s already late in the evening. My life might already be measured in hours, but if that’s the case, I’ll go out fighting, and hopefully take Duke with me.

I stand, after a while abandoning my military stance, using the wall at my back to support me and to relieve some of the pressure on my stump. Whatever’s ahead, I’ll need to be at full strength.

Those keys to her room are burning a hole in my pocket. I want to use them. I want to go inside and check her injuries for myself. Comfort her, explain how bad I feel at hurting her, that I only said those despicable things to sure, keep myself alive, but mostly so she wasn’t brought back to Duke on her own. Then I’d assure her I’d sacrifice my life if it meant she could get away.

My fingers itch and seem to inch toward the metal in my pocket, needing a conscious effort to pull them back. So close at one point, it takes footsteps on the stairs to bring me to my senses.

When the Crazy Wolves’ member reaches the top, he stares straight ahead as he passes, leaving me unprepared for the fist in my stomach that has me inhaling sharply and bending over. He walks on, not even a glance spared. And like a good hangaround, I bite my tongue and make no protest. I just mentally add him to my growing list of people who’ll eventually feel my wrath.

That I’m putting up with this shit for Saffie makes me admit I’ve been fooling myself. From the start I’d thought I was doing her a favour, that I was reacting to a damsel in distress, her knight in black leather armour, riding in on my metal steed to rescue her.

Now, with hours with nothing to do but think, I finally admit that it wasn’t just for her, it was as much for myself. I’ve always wanted her.

The realisation pulls me up as I question how she’s become so important to me. It’s not her looks or her figure, I’ve barely seen her without red-rimmed eyes. And when I first met her, someone else’s baby was inside her. It’s not what’s on the outside, it’s the inner strength I see within in her, along with the fragility I want to protect. Kink might have been right. Something within her calls to me as if only I can fix her.

It’s crazy, but since I was forced into claiming her, I consider her my old lady, even though I doubt she’d ever say yes. My claim, I fully believe, trumps that of Duke’s. Half of me wonders whether he has an inkling putting me so close to her is the greatest torture he could inflict.

Only a door separates us, but it could be a million miles. I can’t rush in like a hero in a movie, even though I’ve the means to undo the lock.

What is an undisputable fact—Duke doesn’t trust me and the men in this club don’t want me here. That they’re pretending I’ve a chance at getting a patch is all a trick. They’re fucking with my head, making me suspect there’s hope, when there’s none to have. They’ll kill me, they have to, if only to tie up loose ends.

I’m not personally scared of that outcome. Hell, I’ve served. Though a Marine doesn’t go on a mission with that result in mind, it can’t be totally disregarded. Signing on, there’s an acceptance that though you’ll fight to avoid it, an unseen roadside mine, a stray shot, or an act of deliberate hostility could cut your life short. It fuels the adrenaline that makes us try to do better.

When I joined the Devils, I accepted the patch knowing I’d exchange my existence for that of any of my brothers who required it. Ride free or die is the motto I live by.

I’m no use to Saffie if I allow Duke to take me out. I can only help her by staying in the land of the living, which means I can’t use that key. And if by staying aloof and refusing to talk to her I fuel the hatred she has, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Not now. But hopefully one day, when we’re out of here and free, I’ll show her that the real me was the man she first met, and not this current stranger.

Just as almost everyone does, I have a desire to be liked. It’s not in my nature to actively make someone dislike me. But that’s what I’ve got to do if either of us have a chance to survive. And if she’s the only one who’s going to make it out of here, I’ll go into this like any other mission. The end justifies the means, even if it turns out that to free her, I’ll have to die.

As I did back in those early days as a Marine when I was on guard duty for lonely hours on end, I scan left and right constantly, ears alert for any sound. When I hear weeping from behind the locked door, I clench both my fists, but stay exactly where I am.

Wolves pass by occasionally, and except for the first, they totally ignore me. Eventually, I hear what I’ve been waiting for as the sound of more purposeful footsteps approaching reaches my ears. My head swings in that direction, and I see Asslicker again coming down the hallway. It’s then I notice the light has changed, and the sounds from the clubroom below are diminishing.

“Brought her more water,” he tells me.

I take it from him. He turns and leaves without waiting.

Once again, I unlock the door and enter. This time, she’s lying on the bed. When she spies me, her eyes narrow and meet mine for a second with a puzzled expression on her face.

Then she gives an abrupt shake of her head, and turns over, presenting her back to me.

I leave the water and exit without speaking.

When the club room downstairs goes completely quiet, I take it no one is coming to relieve me, and that I won’t be offered a place to sleep. There’s a big part of me that’s happy they seem to have forgotten about me. I’m right where I want to be—watching over Saffie.

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