“Maybe I don’t want you for sex,” he throws at me. I raise an eyebrow at him. He gives a self-deprecating grin and shrugs. “I like you, Saffie. But if I ever want a woman in my bed, maybe it won’t be you, and we’ll stay friends.”
That thought hurts me. I might not want all of him in that way, but I’d be jealous of another woman. I want him, even though I’ll never be able to give him that.
As I feel the green flame burn inside me, I know I can’t hold on to him, letting him wait for what I’ll never be able to give. A good man like him deserves happiness, and a willing woman in his bed.
Standing, wrapping my arms around myself, I decide there’s nothing for it now but the truth. “Even if I did want you like that, Niran, it wouldn’t work.” Taking a deep breath, I know I’ve got to tell him everything, or at least as much as I’m prepared to say. “I was raped by a biker.”
“Duke,” he states, his mouth twisting in distaste, showing there’s nothing wrong with his memory. “Where is the fucker, Saffie? What club does he ride with? I’m going to fuckin’ dismember him with my bare hands.”
It’s the most bikerish expression I’ve ever heard from him, and I’m not surprised, but I’ve got to stamp that down. “He’s not important.” I brush his statement away, not wanting to give him the information that I know he’s going to request. The Crazy Wolves would kill him before he got close. While vengeance would taste good, it can’t be at the cost of my only friend. I have to offer another explanation. “Because of what happened, I freak at the sight of a cut, at the sound of a motorbike or when I see bikers passing. I’ll never get over that, and I can’t string you along that I might.”
“Saffie, tell me about him.” he starts with a growl, his mind still clearly on Duke.
I hold up my hand. “It happened, Niran. Killing him won’t sort anything. It won’t make me feel better. Please, it’s not about him, it’s about you and me. Continuing this would be wrong. My fears are too deep seated. Unless you gave up being a biker—”
“I can’t do that.” The admission’s wrenched from him. His soulful eyes full of emotion show me how much being a biker means to him. “I don’t know what club Duke was associated with, nor anything about them. All I know is the club I belong to. Saffie, I was a Marine, then I wasn’t anymore. I had nowhere to go, a family who wouldn’t have welcomed me. All my friends were Marines like myself, and hell, I felt jealous of them still being able to do what I couldn’t anymore. I was floundering in civilian life when I met the Devils. They fuckin’ saved me, Saffie. Fuck knows where I’d be now if I didn’t have them.”
“Perhaps they’re a crutch you no longer need.”
He goes quiet, and I can see him thinking seriously. “I work at the shop that we own, Saffie. Which means I’m like my own boss. How could I exist as a civilian? I tried that, and it didn’t work. More than that, the Devils are my family. I can’t leave them.”
“Not even if you find a woman you love?”
His jaw clenches and he takes a while to respond. “I don’t think I could. Leaving the club would destroy me. I wouldn’t be the man she fell in love with.”
There we have it. I couldn’t be with a biker, and he can’t be anything but.
“Your telling me this makes me feel it’s right that we should call a halt to whatever this is now.”
His eyes narrow and he vigorously shakes his head. “You can’t fool me, Saffie. You need me. Or at least, someone to lean on. And I’m the only person you have.”
“Maybe it’s me using you as my crutch.” I shrug and wipe an errant tear away. “Niran, I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, but only I can fix myself. While I may never come to terms with what I’ve done, I’ve got to forge a new persona for myself. I came to San Diego to make a fresh start for me and my baby. But now…” I place my hands over my empty stomach and try to summon the strength to go on. “Now, he’s not there anymore, and I have to start living for me. If you stay around, propping me up, I’ll never know what I might achieve.”
“Is me staying extending your misery?”
I think about his words, and partly agree. “It means I’m not having to deal with the pain and perhaps delaying my moving on.”
He’s quiet, thoughtful. Then at last, he speaks. “Maybe I’ve been selfish. As Kink would say, I’m fulfilling my own need. My desire to be helpful. I might have been wrong or too damn arrogant thinking this was something I could fix.” When he glances at me, I can’t tell him he’s mistaken. “Me being a biker is the final nail in the coffin, isn’t it?”
It’s the crux of the matter, so all I can do is nod my head. There’s no future for us, probably not even as friends. There’s no point in prolonging this.
“I think you should go now, Niran.”
He stands. Pacing, he goes to the wall and leans his head against it, then bangs his fist gently on the plaster. “I want more for you, Saffie. I want you out of this shithole of an apartment. I can set you up with a place if you want, and I want to be there beside you.” When I make a sound, he turns and holds up his hands. “And my wants don’t end there. I’d also want you to meet my family, my friends. And in time, I’d probably ask you to be my old lady.”
As firmly as I can, I state, “That’s not what I want.”
He grimaces, takes out his key ring, and once again is handing me back the key it had seemed easier to give him. “Anytime, Saffie. Any fuckin’ time, day or night. If you need me, you call. If you want to talk to me, I’ll be there on the end of the line.”
“I need to not need you.” Inside, I’m breaking. Inside, I don’t want to be on my own. But as I suspected, he’d mentioned me as an old lady, and as I’m determined never to be property again, I’ve got to cut all strings. Otherwise, he’ll destroy me. “Don’t ring, don’t check up on me, Niran. If… if I do break and need saving, I promise I’ll call you, okay?”
He sounds anguished. “You’re asking too much of me.”
Not as much as I’m asking of myself. Bowing my head, I wipe the tears away. He waits in silence.
“A month,” I suddenly say, as a vision of life without Niran in it flits through my head. It’s not a nice picture. “I’ll call you in a month, or if I don’t, you can ring me. I’ll have my head on straighter.” And what? He’ll still be a biker, and I’ll still be me.
“One month,” he reluctantly agrees. His eyes shutter. “But Saffie, I’ll still be a biker.” He echoes my thoughts exactly. “Hell, I never thought the day would come when I hate my fuckin’ cut. It’s part of me, though, every bit as much as my prosthesis. Maybe you’re right and it is a crutch, but I’d fall without it.”
The hurt in his eyes makes me want to take my words back, but I can’t influence how he lives his life, just as he can’t force me to accept it.
What does giving us a month help? Nothing will change. I won’t get over my total fear of bikers. Sure, Niran’s great, but the rest of his brothers? Nothing he can say would reassure me they weren’t the same as Duke and the rest of the Crazy Wolves’ rejects from civilised society. Niran’s the exception, not the rule.
“A month.” He states it as if the timeframe is the only reason he’ll leave today.
He glances around the room, then goes into the bathroom and collects the few items he’d brought over. Finally, he walks across to me.
“I fuckin’ hate this, Saffie. But you’re in the driver’s seat.” Gently, carefully, he leans down, and his lips caress my forehead. When he straightens, he pulls his shoulders back and steps to the door.
“You want to take that?” I call out, spying the sleeping bag he’d forgotten.
He swings back, his eyes going to where I’m pointing, then a half-grin settles on his face.
“Nah, I’m sure you’ll find another needy homeless person.”
Nothing gets past him, does it?
The small upward curve his parting words had brought to my lips turns downward immediately after he closes the door. The apartment i
s quiet, and emptier than it was before.
What have I done?
I stand, pacing, with my hands clenching then opening.
What choice have I got?
Niran has no idea how much Duke hurt me. It wasn’t one rape, it was constant, horrendous abuse for five long years. I doubt there’s enough therapy in the world that could repair me. Duke had completely destroyed my faith in men, and especially those who ride motorcycles.
If Niran had any other occupation, then I’d have held on to him with both hands. But he’s a biker, and that’s a complete no-no for me.
I couldn’t allow myself to be stupid for a second time. Once was enough. More than fucking enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Saffie
Five years ago
“When are you going to introduce me to your friends?” I ask, bouncing on my tiptoes, hardly able to contain my happiness as I admire the impressive new ring on my finger when we step out of the courthouse. The diamond flashes almost blindingly in the brilliant summer sunlight. The sight makes me feel excited and light, and not because it had cost a fortune. I had no idea nor cared whether it had or had not, my delight was because it had been chosen by the man at my side and represented my future.
I’d neither expected nor wanted to marry again. When my previous husband had cheated on me, I’d left his sorry ass. With hindsight, I should have known far earlier than I had. The signs had been there, but at the time, blinded by love, I’d missed them. Gradually, though, doubts came into my mind. Were his excuses just a little too smooth? When concerns about him had crept up on me, I’d spoken to my mom. Her only response was to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was expecting too much, and it was obvious Clive was a man in love.
Whatever she said, and she’d said a lot, I couldn’t rid myself of my suspicions that Clive was being unfaithful.
When I had the proof in front of my eyes, I wasn’t happy to be proved right.
I’m sure my mom had known all along, and I suspected my own dad had been unfaithful, but marriage vows apparently trump all. Even when confronted with concrete evidence that my suspicions had proved correct, she’d told me to be adult about it.
You can’t get divorced, Sapphire. Just think of the shame it would bring.
But even if sticking in a relationship built on deceit was expected, I couldn’t do it. Not when I realised Mom had been partly right. Clive was indeed a man in love, but with the other woman and not with me.
I’d left, bringing disgrace on our family. As Clive had been quite happy to carry on with the sham, all the blame for the dissolution of our marriage had fallen on me. Divorce in our family wasn’t the done thing.
Burned, I wasn’t sure I’d trust anyone again, so I set out to prove I could be happy on my own, and had been busy trying to live for me, and not revolving my life around a man. In that I’d been successful. I made friends. I was happy. I grew as a person. For the first time in my life, I no longer needed to be a wife or a daughter, I became me. I was happier for it.
Then Duke entered my life, and I was knocked off my feet. He was everything my ex hadn’t been. Charming, and from the start, making it clear he only had eyes for me. He was handsome, tall, a man who obviously worked out. His body was covered in tattoos which I’d found both naughty and at the same time delicious. I was proud to have snagged his attention, aware that other women spared him more than one glance, but it was me he was with. Duke was generous to a fault. I only had to indicate there was something I wanted, and the next day, or sooner, it would be in my hand. As for the sex, it was out of this world. He was so considerate, gentle and loving.
I loved Clive once, I trusted him. I wasn’t going to fall into the same trap again. Duke, though, was persistent. While I just wanted to date, he wanted something more permanent.
Still, I held back. Being bitten once, this time I was determined to be shy. I wasn’t going to rush into anything.
My parents were rich with old money. Clive had been an investment banker of whom they’d approved, to the extent they couldn’t understand why I hadn’t been able to overlook the ‘little issues’ in our marriage. Duke, a man who owned a motorcycle shop, they hated on sight. Maybe it was some kind of delayed rebellious stage, but the more they put obstacles between us, the more they pushed me Duke’s way. It was after one particular row with my father, when he declared if I continued to see Duke he’d no longer recognise me as his daughter, that focused my mind. When Duke had next proposed, I’d overcome my own objections to things moving too fast, and I’d accepted.
I was an adult, a grown woman. I could make up my own mind.
As I stand in the sunlight admiring my ring, coming to grips with the thought that once again I’m married, but this time it’s to the man of my dreams. Sure, I’d sacrificed my family, but Duke is the one who makes my world turn. I turn to him with a beaming smile. He doesn’t disappoint, planting a scorching, possessive kiss on my lips.
I’m his ‘little socialite’ as he fondly calls me. I think that’s sweet. Sure, there’s a world of difference in our backgrounds, but that doesn’t affect anything between him and me.
Having come from money, I’d been cautious enough, doing my own due diligence until I was certain Duke didn’t want anything from me. At the start, I’d been prepared for Duke to make monetary demands, but those demands never came. He would pay for everything, as though determined to show me he was a successful businessman in his own way. Duke was a proud man. I had nothing to worry about him.
Although I’d been burned once by a man who cheated on me, because it was Duke, I accepted the many times away and trips out of town as requirements of his business. He needed to source parts, or check on a bargain, or go give advice. Each time he returned, it was with a generous and thoughtful present, proving it was me who’d been on his mind. That he also stayed a number of nights in his own home was logically explained by his garage being full of expensive bikes, and the need for him to watch over them.
It might sound strange now I’m his wife to admit I’ve never seen his garage or where he lives. At first, because it was a bachelor mess he was too embarrassed to invite me to visit, then it became a project to turn it into the home of my dreams. I can’t count the evenings when he’d bring home catalogues, wanting my advice on furniture and fittings to set it up just how I wanted, though the final unveiling was to be a surprise on our wedding day.
Soon, I’ll see the home he’s designed for me.
It follows that due to his business, Duke has many friends, all of whom seem to own motorcycles, and who take up a lot of his time. I’ve asked before when I can meet them, but on every occasion, he’d brush me off with kisses and loving, telling me he wanted me all to himself for now. Now that we’re married, it seems more imperative I should know everyone important in his life.
“You want to meet my friends, Sapphire?” There’s a glint in his eyes as he turns to me, then, raising my hand, admires the wedding band as it sparkles in the light.
“I do.” Going on tiptoe, I kiss his cheek. “I’m your wife.”
“You are, aren’t you, my little socialite. You’ve given up everything for me.”
I have, and I don’t regret it. But there was something in his tone that put me on edge, just like your mood can momentarily sour when a cloud moves over the sun. I shake that feeling off. This is the happiest day of my life. What care have I my parents hadn’t been there to witness it? I have Duke, he is my future, they’re in my past.
Suddenly Duke grins. “As it happens, my friends want to meet you too, Sapphire. In fact, they’re throwing us a party.”
“A wedding reception?” Over the past few months, I’d lost contact with many of the friends that I had. Arrangements to meet had fallen apart when Duke had been free that same night. Others had taken my parents side and had tried to dissuade me from seeing the man who was so perfect for me. As old friendships had drifted apart, I hadn’t thought anyone would have wanted to join us in celebra
ting our matrimony. That his friends do makes me want to dance on the spot.
“Of sorts,” he says, mysteriously, reaching again for my hand and this time curling his fingers around it. “Come on. We’ll go to the club, and then I’ll show you the home I’ve made for you.” Before he moves, he lowers his head, taking my lips in a scorching kiss. “Only for you, Sapphire. You’re mine now.”
Oh yes, I’m his, you can bet on it. I’m positively glowing with the emotions his statement brings forth.
In my specially bought pure-white figure-hugging dress that flares from my hips, I walk at his side as we approach his car.
“Gotta get you some bike wear, pretty thing,” he says, unlocking the passenger door. “You’ll be riding on my bike from now on.”
That causes another flare of excitement to go through me, that illicit pleasure Duke had kept to himself up to now. I’m special, I’m his wife, I think to myself.
As we drive away, I’m wondering what club he’ll take me to. I love to dance, to let down my hair and drink cocktails. I muse they must have arranged a special opening as it’s only mid-afternoon. Settling back, I smile. Oh, the lengths this man will go to please me. I’ve won the jackpot.
I’m slightly surprised as we head out of town and drive into the desert. I’ve never heard of a club out this way. But what do I know? There’s probably some I haven’t frequented before now, though I’m sure I’ve experienced the best in town. Fidgeting, eager to arrive, I sit forward on my seat, looking forward to charming his friends and celebrating the start of our married life. I have no fear of meeting strangers. My parents had me attending their business parties since I was old enough to be polite. I know how to socialise and can hold a conversation with the best of them, having met many people from all walks of life.
Avenging Devil Part 1: Satan’s Devils MC - San Diego Chapter #3 Page 19