Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3) (12 page)

She chuckles at my outburst and with a sly smile says,

“Nope. No fucking joke. I learnt to turn off to their hateful words pretty quickly. If you didn’t grow a thick skin you didn’t survive in that environment for long. Some of them liked nothing more than to see you cry, so I never gave them the satisfaction. Something about what they said stuck though, so I started searching. Finally I found one that mentioned an old lady of Vengeance MC in Furnace, Colorado reporting an infant to the local hospital after finding her abandoned in a dumpster. The time frame fit and it was the only article of its type I came across, so I took a chance. In hindsight it was a fucking stupid one because what if they weren’t the right people? Anything could have happened to me. And how was I to know it wouldn’t have been worse than what I was already going through? By this point I didn’t have much choice. My options were limited, I knew if I stayed any longer Lucas would probably kill me the next time. The last time he violated me was by far the worst. I tried to close my eyes, and picture the lady Emily who had already saved me once. I only had a grainy picture to go by, but that image got me through it. Why?” she says shrugging, “I don’t know, but I was glad for it. And because I didn’t fight back like I normally did Lucas made sure the beating he gave me was worse than any he’d given me before. He liked when I fought him. He was a truly sick bastard, so the fact that it turned him on when I did shouldn’t surprise me. I think he broke some ribs that time. I know I had two black eyes, my nose was broken, and I was definitely black and blue but nothing was going to stop me from getting the fuck out of there.”

Impatiently I ask,

“How did you? I mean how did you get out if you were so broken? I’m shocked you could even move, let alone escape.”

Grinning an evil smile at me she answers with,

“I wasn’t broken chicky. My body might have been a bit worse for wear, but my mind was all there and I knew exactly what I had to do. I’d planned it in my head so many times that it came like second nature. A humans’ capacity for self-preservation is an amazing thing when faced with the reality of life or death.” I can only imagine it would be and my mind goes to what I would’ve done if faced I was with the same thing. Before I can go too far down that path she pulls me back. “I waited until everyone was asleep and climbed out my bedroom window two stories up. I’d managed to jimmy it open the day before. They locked me in all the time, so making sure that window was open was the first thing on my list. Climbing down hurt like a bitch, but I would’ve done anything to get out of there. Hitting the ground with broken ribs was even worse but I survived. Over the course of a month I’d been stealing money out of their wallets, only little bits at a time because I didn’t want them catching on before I could put my plan into action. I’m not proud I stooped to stealing, but like I said it was do or die by this point. I was living in Minneapolis near Rochester, so getting to Denver took nearly sixteen hours on the bus. My ribs ached by the time I got there and I wanted to sleep for a week, I didn’t care where by then. The bus station would have done but I knew it wasn’t safe enough.” She lets out a self-depreciating chuckle. “So I hitchhiked. Yeah, don’t say it. I was young, stupid, and desperate, and in those circumstances you’ll do pretty much anything. I just wanted to make it to Vengeance’s clubhouse and I wasn’t stopping until I did. At the very least I wanted a bed. Maybe a shower. And some food wouldn’t have gone astray either.”

Ade rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands. I can see this is taking its toll so I try to offer her the option of a break.

“Do you want a drink? More coffee?”

“No, I’m good.” Stretching her back Ade takes a deep breath. “The truck driver that dropped me off told me to be careful. He warned me about the bikers that ride with Vengeance saying they lived up to their well-earned bad reputation. I figured that if one of their mom’s or sisters saved me they couldn’t be all bad right? Taking a chance on them wasn’t going to be any worse than where I’d come from.” She says on a shrug. “I walked the last three miles and to be honest I have no fucking idea how I made it in the end. I had blisters on my blisters, they were so bad I was told my feet were bleeding when they eventually took my shoes off. I must have passed out from pain or exhaustion. Who knows which? It didn’t matter either. When I woke up I freaked the fuck out; I was surrounded by some of the biggest men I’d ever seen in my whole life, but even at that age I could see they were hot though, I mean I wasn’t dead or anything. A couple of minutes later Emily came into the room they had me in and I can remember my body immediately relaxing. It was almost like I was waiting to see her before I could finally feel free. All I could think was that I’d finally made it somewhere safe, that nothing else mattered anymore, I’d survived and I wasn’t going back.”

Nodding my agreement because I can totally see how she would have felt safe anywhere that wasn’t where she’d come from I ask,

“But you were all grown up, how did she recognise you?”

Ade shrugs carelessly,

“She didn’t. I called her by name and within two minutes Emily worked out who I was with a few basic questions.”

“And they took you in? Just like that?” I know the guys in Devil’s Spawn would definitely help a woman in need, but keep her? I’m not sure about that. They’re more likely to make sure she has all the help she needs then pack her off somewhere safe.

“Emily didn’t give them much of a choice, I don’t think Boss or Diesel would have turned me away in my state either. When I was strong enough to be moved, I think it was two or three days later, Emily packed me up and took me home with her. I stayed with her at her home until I was seventeen then I moved into the clubhouse full-time.” I must look at her in shock because Adelyn giggles adding, “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t get any freedom and I didn’t see shit. Shame. Those guys could definitely be the meat in a lady club sandwich any day. Boss and Diesel were even more protective than Emily funnily enough. They still are. Anyway, the reason for me telling you this is because it doesn’t matter how hard, or far you fall it’s how you get back up and put yourself back together that matters most. I could’ve let everything that happened eat me up inside. Shit. Sometimes it nearly did. But instead I drew strength from the men around me when I didn’t have any of my own, learned to let it go or did my best to, and dealt with the pain. It could only hurt me or take over my life if I let it.”

After everything she went through, having the ability to look at it like that is amazing. I would have curled up into a ball and let the world go on without me.

“You’re so much stronger than me Ade. I’m struggling to get out of bed. What
nearly
happened to me is nowhere near as bad as that. It’s not even the reason for my pity party; all this shit about Tank being married is a drop of the ocean in comparison. I don’t even have a
good
reason to be acting like I am. I mean Tank and I weren’t together. The man hadn’t even talked to me in a fucking year and I’m acting like a spoiled bitch.” I can’t believe Ade would tell me all this trying to make me feel better when she’s got a lifetime of pain behind her. But that’s what Ade’s like; she’s the most caring person I’ve ever met.

She squeezes my hand and says,

“Shit happened to both of us, now you have to make a choice Priss. You can go on like you are; shutting everyone that cares about you out and sleeping your life away, or you can get up and fight. It’s up to you. After today I’m not going to push you or say anything else about it. Tank hiding the fact that he’s married sucks ass babe. I hate to state the obvious, but clearly the man’s not happy and he has nothing to do with her either, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work it out when he’s here all the time and she’s not. No one’s met her or even seen her. There has to be more to the story than you know.” I go to interrupt but Ade puts her hand up to stop my protests before they can start. “Yeah I know, blah, blah, I’m hurt. He’s a liar, blah, blah, blah. Whatever.” I can’t help but giggle at her eye rolling and the disdainful look on her face, but I stay silent otherwise. “Straight up. You get to choose whether you get over the fact everyone knows about the creepazoid that attacked you, and you can choose whether you hear Tank out. I can’t hurt to listen to the man. Put him out of his misery, he’s moping around like a little boy who’s had his chocolate milk stolen at recess. I also think you’re smart enough to realise you’ll end up regretting it if you don’t.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything else, and I don’t get a chance to thank her before a livid Reaper barges into my kitchen. He looks furious, and I immediately feel sorry for Ade that looks to be on the receiving end of all his anger. What the hell is up with people inviting themselves in these days? I swear it’s like a fucking revolving door has been installed in replacement of my plain timber front door.

“You’re supposed to be at the fucking shop. What the fuck are you doing here? I’ve got Toby calling telling me you’ve got walk-ins out the ass, and you’re here having coffee and a fucking chat on my coin?”

Wow! Reaper’s definitely caught the asshole bug. It must be something in the water I muse. Honestly it could have been one of
many
of the brothers in the MC he caught it off, there’s too much choice to narrow the field down. I’m actually shocked though, because I’ve never heard him talk to anyone like that. Ever. Standing quietly and dropping her mug gently in the sink Ade faces him saluting and half-heartedly says,

“Aye, aye Captain little prick. I’ll get right on that.”

The vein in Reaper’s neck pulses and his jaw is clenched so tightly that I bet he’ll need reconstructive work done on his molars sometime soon. I can’t help the choked laugh that bubbles out, and Reaper can’t help turning his glare on me either. Oh well, he’ll just have to get over whatever is currently stuck up his ass.

“Don’t be a fucking smartass Adelyn. Just get your ass back to the shop and hope I don’t dock your pay this week to make up for how long you’ve been out.”

Looking over to the clock on the wall by the backdoor I note that she’s only been here forty-five minutes. Huh, it felt longer. By the time she gets back to Skin Fusion she’ll only have been gone an hour. Jesus. He’s definitely on his man-rag today. Can bikers go through menopause? Because Reaper’s showing all the classic symptoms and I pity Ade having to be the one to put up with it. I definitely wouldn’t.

“You do that big man. To be honest I don’t give a flying fuck what you do. I’ll even pay you for the time I’ve been gone. Sound good?” She says, but not waiting for his answer promptly leaves the way she came and just as fast it make my head swim.

I spend the next ten days thinking about what Ade told me. Her story. Her advice. Even her insight about the state of Tank’s marriage or lack thereof. If I’m being honest with myself, yes it hurt that he never told me he was married, and yes I’m angry because he should have been the one to tell me himself. I shouldn’t have had to hear it from his brothers. Blurting it out flippantly like a drive-thru order at Burger King was not the way to approach it. That aside, and quite frankly this fact is important, we aren’t together and we never have been. Not like that anyway. We haven’t spoken in fourteen months. We’re barely friends anymore. So honestly do I even have the right to be pissed at him? Probably not but that hasn’t stopped me before, and I doubt it will now. I know I have to bite the bullet and hear him out. It’s the only way I’m going to get the answers I need. The ones that will give me closure if nothing else. I don’t even know what I want, but I know things can’t stay as they are it will just ruin both of us.

Tilly’s been on my ass about letting Tank explain too. I swear I nearly hogtied her and locked her in the hall cupboard a few times so she would shut up and let me think for a minute. But eventually, as expected I caved. Not only because it’s Tank we’re talking about, but because I have no freaking willpower period. Two weeks and one day after the ‘Adams Family Roasting’ I give in and text him.

              *Priss – I’m ready to listen. My place 10am tomorrow?*

I waited less than five minutes for his reply, and when it came I smiled the first real smile I’ve managed for two weeks.

              *Tank – I’ll be there beautiful.*

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Hunter

Cleanin out my closet – Eminem

              The message from Priss last night scared the living shit out of me. Sure, I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to lay everything out on the table, but I can’t say part of me isn’t terrified this will be the last time I see, or talk to her. No matter what happens today, and fuck me but I hope it goes well, at least she’ll know the whole truth. Everything about us from here out will be because she wants me in her life for the man I actually am. Not the one I’ve pretended to be.

Church last week was one of the most tense we’ve had since Priest announced the truce between Devil’s Spawn and Satan’s Sons. Having to hear about one of our own being hurt, especially a woman didn’t sit well with anyone, not that I expected it would but the reaction was more severe than I initially anticipated. The older guys like Vic and Phil who knew Priss’ dad Jones, almost lost their shit entirely and I’d never seen that happen. Ever. They’re two of the most laid back guys I’ve met, and if it wasn’t for having to move to get more beer I wouldn’t think they were capable of standing so quickly. In the end it was Priest threatening to shoot their kneecaps out if they didn’t sit down that took them down a peg. I think they would’ve gone Hulk on someone’s ass if he hadn’t intervened.

Cage, Steel, Dagger, and Glock were equally pissed. That was a given seeing as their women, Cage and Steel’s at least the other two don’t have women, are best friends with Priss. I’m sure it’s crossed their minds that their women may be at risk too. To their credit they didn’t say anything, especially knowing what my reaction would’ve been, but I know they were thinking it.

The only reason, or the only one I can come up with, for Glock’s reaction is because he’s young, he’s Tilly’s best friend, and Priss is hot. Need I say more? The asshole practically strips her naked with his eyes every time she walks into a room, which is often because he’s at her and Tilly’s place almost every day. I don’t blame him Priss is fucking hot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to rip his eyeballs from his skull every time I see him looking.

Dagger and his anger over it? Your guess is as good as mine. He and Priss aren’t close as far as I know if anything, Priss has the least to do with him than any of the other guys. But at this point I couldn’t fucking care less why he’s invested in finding the asshole that dared to lay a hand on her the more people looking out for her the better in my book.

Church pretty much like this…

Banging the gavel to quieten the room, Priest continued talking after he stopped everyone grabbing their piece to go out hunting the sick fuck down and making him pay for hurting Priss. I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind a time or ten since I found out, but to date I’ve kept it reeled in. Barely. But I have.

“Quiet down assholes. We don’t need to sit around discussing it, the course we take from here on is hyper vigilance. You got an old lady you watch her. If you can’t you request a man be put on her. Same goes for kids. Change up your usual travel routes and activities, and get your women to do the same. We can’t spare a brother per person even though I wish we could. One per family is going to stretch us thin. Obviously if you’re in town you’ll be assigned to your own brood. If you’re not around Pipe will work out a solution that’ll work for everyone. This isn’t a fucking democracy and I’m not taking requests as to who’s assigned to who. If you’ve got a problem with what Pipe arranges stiff shit.”

Pipe looks to Priest, and at his nod he takes the opportunity to speak up.

“After Church do a weapons check. Anyone that doesn’t have personal firepower as well as a couple of alternates see Tank, he’ll sort you out. Make sure you’re carrying and that shit’s loaded.” Glancing at Train quickly Pipe adds with a chin tilt in his direction, “Not like last time.”

Everyone at the table knows what Pipe’s referring to. On our last run Train hadn’t checked his piece, so when we stopped at the warehouse to collect our payload Satan’s Sons were waiting for us, and all hell broke loose. We managed to subdue and detain with no casualties, but it was a fucking close call. Three inches to the left and a stray bullet would’ve had Priest missing the side of his head purely because of Train’s incompetence. He was the closest to the target that took aim at the Devil’s Spawn MC president and hadn’t checked his fucking weapon, so when it didn’t discharge he realised it wasn’t fucking loaded. Thanks to Reaper’s inhuman reaction time, because seriously when the man moved he fucking
moved
, Priest made it out of it unharmed. Train not so much. When we got back to the clubhouse Priest took Train into the cage and taught him a lesson in checking your hardware before a meet. Six minutes and a KO later Train learned Priest wouldn’t forgive another slip up of that nature. Honestly I think he made out lightly. If I were Priest I would’ve at least made him swallow a few teeth before I let up on him.

Priest’s voice brings me back to the topic at hand when he says,

“We’ve got a run in four days. Good a time as any to test Glock and Sanchez out. See if they’ve got what it takes. In total that’ll be me, Pipe, Reaper, Dagger, Glock, and Sanchez. Six men down isn’t ideal, but we’ll make it work, we have to. It’s only for two, three days at the outset. Cage, Steel, you boys don’t need to be told you’re on your families. Tank you’re on Priss and Tilly. Arrow obviously you’ve got V and Kellen. Shifty, you’re on Adelyn.” I hear a growl come from Reaper’s direction but I ignore it. My brother is sporting a serious hard on for the petite dreadlock wearing blonde, but he needs to get a handle on it before he blows a fucking gasket. Most of the time I’d find it entertaining, today I’ve got other shit to worry about. Like how I’m going to keep Priss safe without her knowing I’m following her around.

With no further business and everyone given their assignments we file out. It’s time to start setting my brothers up with new hardware and enough ammo to fuel a small country. You can never be too prepared.

Unexpectedly, but thankfully at the same time, trailing Priss was a damn sight easier than I’d imagined. V saw to it that any paperwork she needed in order to complete the club’s books was delivered to her house, and aside from her shifts at Mo’s, a couple of trips to the store for food, and one for gas, she didn’t leave the house a whole lot. Tilly was actually harder to keep tabs on than her older sister, and because of this I did something that in any other situation I wouldn’t have considered; I called Glock in to watch Tilly.

I’ve been keeping tabs on that shit for a year now, and lucky for him because I’d rip him the fuck apart if he considered touching her, nothing’s come of it. I knew the second Tilly met the fucker that she started crushing on him or whatever it is girls her age do. Sadly for her but ecstatically for me, the same can’t be said for him. The brother isn’t even twenty-one yet. He’s got too many years ahead of cheap, easy pussy to want to settle down and my Tilly’s definitely the settling down type. I took him aside and laid it out for him, but that’s when he told me in no uncertain terms he’s not interested in Tilly and never will be. Good. Because I’d hate to have to kill him, but I would if I had to.

By the looks of it Tilly’s moved on anyway to a kid in her year at school. The kid looks like an asshole, but it’s not my place to tell her who to like, unless he fucks her over and then I’ll step in whether she likes it or not. The kid’s a football player if the jersey he wears is anything to go by, and someone that I wouldn’t have paired sweet Tilly with in a million years. As long as she’s happy and he remembers to keep his hands above the belt, and off her goods he’ll live to see another day. I may, or may not have had words with him last week when I found out from Glock about his existence. In this hypothetical chat it’s possible that I explained in great detail what I’d do to him if he didn’t respect her, remaining a gentleman at all times of course. Needless to say, somewhere in between the hot poker to his eyeballs and Taser to his balls while his feet were submerged in buckets of water, the kid promised all would be copasetic. I would’ve felt sorry for the kid, but I know his type, and I know exactly what that type is all about. Tits, ass, and pussy. I was there once and I was no different. Fuck. I was no different five years ago.

About now you’d be right in assuming I’m not faithful to my estranged wife. If she was
anyone
else, and if I was in any other marriage there’d be no question I’d be faithful. Monogamous. If I was married to Priss, (a man can dream), I can’t imagine looking at another woman, let alone touching one. It just wouldn’t happen. I’m not going to make excuses for who I’ve fucked or how many of them. It also isn’t a closely guarded secret that my apparently devoted society wife has stepped out on me more times than I can count either.

I wouldn’t say we’ve got an open marriage, although she’d like to think we do, that’s her justification for why she does it, I just don’t give a fuck about who she sleeps with. In my mind an open marriage means that a discussion has been had and both parties agree to the conditions. The fact is I only know about her getting around spreading her legs for whoever’s got the fattest wallet, because I ran into one of her many man-toys leaving our place in Chicago when I dropped in once to ask her about signing the divorce papers.

Charlee wasn’t backwards in coming forwards when she told me she has needs, and seeing as I’m not around she has to fulfil them she gets it elsewhere. Again, if she were any other woman, especially Priss, I would’ve been eaten up by jealousy, but in Charlee’s case I simply shrugged it off and left. No harm no foul in my book. We’re both doing it, I haven’t stuck my dick in her for fourteen years, so who am I to say anything about where she gets her kicks. Charlee hasn’t asked once about where I’m getting it or from who, and I’m glad she hasn’t because that’s a question that’d go answered for a fuck of a long time, like forever. I know she’s smart enough to figure out I haven’t been celibate all these years, but I honestly don’t think she cares enough to ask.

Most of the time I pick up a woman at a bar or club in Boulder when I’m on a run. I don’t believe in shitting where you eat and the last fucking thing I need is for some woman to pull the bitch-card out and get in Priss’ face about what I’ve done with her. Yeah, no.

My motto for the last fourteen years has been ‘One and done’. I won’t deny it and I won’t fucking apologise for it. I don’t care where I fuck a woman as long as my dick gets wet and I blow my load. I try to make sure she gets hers first, but once I’m done I’m out whether she got it or not. No exchanging numbers. No repeat performances. If I can get away with it, and honestly I have more often than I like to admit, no names. I’m not an asshole about it. I explain upfront what I want and if they expect more than that I move on to the next one. I won’t fuck someone that isn’t completely aware of my end game, it’s not fair to them and it sure as hell isn’t fair to me. In saying that, it’s been so long since I’ve fucked a woman I couldn’t even give you an exact month, let alone week. My cock’s interest in anyone other than Priss has taken an extended leave of absence, and the outlook on his return is shaky at best. I can’t say I blame him, but I seriously need to burn off some of this frustration. A man can only take so much before he snaps. Working out isn’t cutting it anymore and the only other outlet I’ve found successful is a good, long, hard fuck. However because of my cock’s disinterest I’ve had to settle for jacking off in the shower twice a day.

Motivational material isn’t an issue when I’m alone with my dick in my hand, and as sad as it is to say I’ve had my best orgasms that way, and have for years. All I have to do is recall Priss in her tiny white bikini, nipples straining the thin fabric to the point I can almost make out the colour of them. Imagine them in my hands, how they’d feel, what they’d taste like. All that gorgeous blonde hair curled around my fists as I fuck her from behind, her tight heart shaped ass grinding against my groin. Long tanned legs wrapped around my waist as I drive in and out of her tight wet pussy. What makes me the hardest, makes me cum harder than I have with any woman, is imagining her saying my name as her orgasm takes her. That’s the stuff of pure fantasy. Her breathless whispers in my ear begging me to take her harder, faster, more. Looking into her eyes as I cum inside her has my cock jerking against the zipper of my jeans just thinking about it.

Last night it was almost impossible to fall asleep with today’s conversation with Priss looming over me. It didn’t help I received the first phone call I’ve had in a year from Charlee demanding I take her to some fucking stupid benefit dinner next month either. Telling her politely, not really I was pretty blunt actually, to fuck off and hanging up on her I ended up having a few beers with Arrow and Cage at Rough Shod. To say it was hard sitting with my two business partners, and best friends knowing that within days everything they know about me, and the club we love is going to be blown apart is an understatement. I’ve got no idea how they’re going to react to what they’re about to learn, but it’s not a stretch to assume they aren’t going to take the news well.