Another breath and I’m feeling slightly calmer. I take out my phone dial her number.
It rings, once, twice then again. Just before it rings out, thank fuck, it’s answered.
No greeting, no hello.
“Saffie, are you alright?”
“Niran. Please, leave me alone.”
“Where are you? Are you safe?” I thump my fist into the wall.
“I’m at my apartment. I’m sorting stuff out.”
“I don’t like you being there. Not alone. Can I come over?”
There’s a pause, an indrawn breath, then, “No.” Her voice sounds shrill. She’s upset. Then she spits the words out one after the other. “Niran. You and I would be a great mistake. You’re not what I want. I can’t be with someone like you, either at the compound or anywhere.” There’s another pause, as though she’s sitting herself down. “I don’t want to see you.”
There’s something about her tone. “Saffie—”
“No, Niran. I’ve done a lot of thinking. I’m not right for you, and you’re not right for me. We wouldn’t work. It’s best you just let me go.” The words tumble out one after the other.
Is that a sob I hear? “Why the fuck not, Saffie? I thought we were friends.”
“We’re not friends!” she cries. “Please, Niran, leave me alone.” She ends the call.
I scratch my head. What the fuck just happened? What’s gone on between me leaving her with promises last night and now? Why did she leave without talking to me? I thought she’d told me she’d stay. While last night I put the discussion on abeyance, I thought this morning I could pick it back up. In the light of day, her thoughts might have become clearer. Apparently they have, but not in the direction I wanted.
And now I’ve got to go see Lost and tell him how I’d fucked up. Fuck my life.
“What the fuck happened, Niran?” Lost asks as I enter. “Patsy’s upset and I don’t like that one fuckin’ bit.” He waves me to the seat in front of his desk.
What do I care about the distress caused to his old lady, or that he might not get any until this is cleared up? My old lady is alone and missing. And it’s all my own fucking fault.
Sitting forward, clasping my hands, I give it to him straight. “Last night I spoke to Saffie. She’s too savvy about club ways, Prez. Knew we couldn’t just give her protection without there being some strings attached. She was scared she would be expected to be a sweet butt, so I came clean. I told her I claimed her.”
Lost rolls his eyes. “Which went down like a lead balloon, I take it?”
I shrug. “What could I do? She was right. Giving her a place to stay while her shit gets sorted is one thing, going head-to-head against another club is something else.”
Lost wipes his hands down his face. “I’m going to have a hard job holding Patsy back from going after her. But I’m not putting my ol’ lady in danger.”
“I appreciate that, Prez. I’m having enough difficulty stopping myself.” I would, but I know from our recent conversation, Saffie wouldn’t take kindly to me turning up.
Lost leans forward and picks up his phone. He taps out a message. Almost before he’s finished, the door opens.
“Ah, Toke. I was hoping you’d already be up.”
“Up? I ain’t gone to bed yet, Prez.” Token grins, hooks his foot around a chair pulling it out, then sits. “Whatcha want?”
Lost sighs and simultaneously rubs at his temples. “Niran, the stupid fucker, opened his big mouth and shoved his foot right in it. Saffie took a dislike to becoming property again. She’s taken off. We need to know where the Crazy Wolves are on tracking her, and ultimately, how much time we’ve got? In that, do we leave her in whatever hole she’s bolted to, or drag her kicking and screaming back?” He shoots a glare full of accusation my way. “I take it despite her objection to becoming yours, you’re still willing to help?”
In answer, I give a sharp nod. Yeah. It’s stung my pride, but that’s not going to stop me wanting her safe.
Token grins and sits forward. “You’re in luck. I spent the night seeing where we were with her. As Niran,” he winks at me, “is claiming her, I decided to see if I could track back and see exactly how much info the Crazy Wolves have got.”
Ignoring his reference to the woman who’s unlikely ever to be mine, I sit straighter. “What did you find?”
“I’m assuming they’ve hacked into the Freedom Trail database, but that only holds info about her alias and her previous San Diego location. When she moved, she was careful not to leave a forwarding address, and continued using the old one. All official records show her previous location.” He raises his chin as though impressed as he adds, “Saffie was good at covering her tracks.” Leaning back, Token folds his arms. “And, as we’ve been over before, it’s likely he knows she was pregnant. If I were him, the hospitals would be the first place I’d start.”
“Have you checked what address she gave the hospital?” I ask.
“Sure. As you know, it’s child’s play to access their database. But no worries there, Saffie gave them her prior address and not the recent one.”
“How the fuck was she getting her mail? Was she going back to collect it in person?”
Token rolls his eyes. “No need to, Niran. How much snail mail do you receive? Nowadays most shit is sent electronically.”
“Rent records?” Lost presses. “That might be somewhere she’s slipped up.”
Token barks a laugh. “That apartment block? The fuckin’ landlord doesn’t want records any more than she does.”
“Taxes?” Lost rubs at his forehead again.
“Last address. As well as her medical insurance. That’s part of what I was doing last night. Checking absolutely everything I could think of.”
“So all he knows is that she’s in San Diego,” I point out, thinking maybe she is safe for now.
“It’s a big fuckin’ city.” Lost seems to be on my wavelength.
Token’s eyes soften. “You certain you and she aren’t going to make a go of it, Niran?” I give a sharp shake of my head. “Pity.” He purses his lips for a moment. “Anyway, after our conversation yesterday, I put out all the feelers I could.” He sits forward again, this time lifting his laptop and balancing it on his knees. “I tried to put myself in Duke’s head. We already know he’s willing to offer money for information. If I were looking for someone, I’d post their picture all over the web, reward attached. I found nothing.”
“Good news?” I could do with some.
He shrugs. “How else would he find her? Yeah, for now, even at her apartment, I think she’s safe. At least in the short term. I can’t think he’s given up, but my reading is, he’s not close.” He glances at Lost. “I’m getting on okay with Stormy, surprisingly. I know Utah wanted her with us as a precaution, but we can’t keep her prisoner. They must understand that. I’ll update him and impress how we need to get her a new cast-iron identity straight away.”
“And this time not fuck it up,” I blurt out. “Do you really trust Utah to be able to do that?”
Token looks at me sharply. “Hey, Utah’s tight. This isn’t their problem. It was the Freedom Trail’s system that proved to be the weak link, and they for certain won’t be getting any more info on Saffie.”
“Presumably they know their system’s vulnerable?” Lost demands, his eyebrow raised. “Wouldn’t want this happen to any other women they protect.”
“Or men, or kids,” Token corrects. “And yeah, of fuckin’ course. Stormy’s dealing with that end of things. Though, I have to admit, it wasn’t a novice that was able to hack in.”
“Saffie said Duke’s man Grit is ex-fed,” I inform him.
“Yeah?” Token’s eyes rest on me, and his head dips and rises. “That makes sense.”
Lost sighs, this time with relief. “I don’t like letting down another club when they made a direct request of us, but it seems we’re covered. Of course, we wouldn’t be in this shit if Niran hadn’t fucked up a
nd made us look like fuckin’ amateurs.”
He doesn’t know the half of it. I’m still reeling. I’d fucking offered to leave the club for her, and she didn’t give that suggestion the time of day.
Maybe it’s a mistake, but I decide to come clean. “It wasn’t just me implying that she’d be my property, Prez, that sent her running away. Before I left her last night, I’d already taken that back. I gave her another option. Our last words were about…” I pause, summoning up the strength to admit, “me leaving the club and disappearing with her.”
For a moment there’s silence.
Then, “You like the bitch that fuckin’ much?” comes from Token, while Lost looks incensed.
“You lost your fuckin’ mind, Brother? What do you think the Satan’s Devils are? Boy-fuckin’-scouts, where you can dip your toe into the water and walk out if find you don’t like it? No one fuckin’ leaves the club, except in a box. You know that. It’s what you signed up for.”
I wince at the anger in his voice. “I was hoping you’d make an exception.”
Lost, normally a genteel and calm man, smashes his hand onto the desk. “You fuckin’ know what happened to this club, Niran. We lost nine fuckin’ men. Did you stop to think your leaving might be taken as a betrayal? That your brothers weren’t fuckin’ good enough?”
“It’s not about you or them,” I defend myself, rasping out, “It’s about Saffie.”
“Club before bitches,” Token spits out with disgust.
I glare at him, then turn back to Lost. “What if it were Patsy?”
Lost stills, a flicker of something akin to sympathy flashes across his face, then it’s gone. “You go ahead with this plan of yours, and a fuckin’ beatdown is the least you can expect. And don’t expect the brothers to go easy on you.”
My suggestion to Saffie had been made on impulse, and it’s true I hadn’t for one moment considered the effect it would have on this particular chapter given its so recent past. Nine men had for one reason or another thought this club wasn’t good enough, or not in its then incarnation. I hadn’t taken into account the effect me turning my back might have on my brothers.
“Prez,” I cry out earnestly. “If it comes to it, I’ll take any punishment you see fit to dole out. You think I want to do this? You think I’d turn my back on the club and my brothers who mean fuckin’ everything to me if I had any fuckin’ choice? She’s important to me, damn it.” By the time I finish, my chest is heaving. I thump one of my fists into the palm of my other hand. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. That she fuckin’ left without speaking to me says volumes about her views.”
As my final words ring in the ensuing silence, Token regards me, his expression not that of a computer nerd, but a man full of feelings and sympathy. Suddenly he puts his ever-present laptop to one side and sits forward. “You care for her, Niran, if you were prepared to give up so much. It must sting like fuck that she didn’t want that. But hey, I’ll work with Stormy. We’ll keep our ears to the ground. I promise wherever she goes, she’ll be safe.”
He’s right. I do care for her, care what happens to her. Fuck knows why, I couldn’t explain if I wanted to. There’s just something about her vulnerability and situation that tugs at my heartstrings. But not only has she pushed me away, she left without saying a word. Seems as clear as night and day that she doesn’t want me anywhere near her.
There’s only one thing I can ask. “Keep me in the loop, Brother.”
“You got it.” Token raises his chin toward me.
Lost’s still staring at me, seemingly unable to give up on the previous conversation. “You serious about turning in your patch?”
Could I tell him it was just words said in the heat of the night? I grimace and give him the truth. “Fuck it, Lost, I am. If that means I don’t lose her, then if it came to it, I would do that. As it turns out, I’ve no choice in the matter.”
As he continues to stare, I wonder whether I’ve burned my bridges. Stay or leave, I’ve already shown my loyalty could be divided when it comes to the club. Once again, I should have kept my mouth shut. I’d give anything to be able to wind back the last twenty-four hours.
After a torturous silence, Lost breaks it. “Utah asked us to keep eyes on her, you’ve fucked that up. I’ll ring Snatcher, come clean. See if we can get Vegas and other friendly clubs to keep an eye out for a herd of Wolves heading our way. And if they do,” he raises a finger and points it at me, “someone will have to make sure she gets out before they arrive.” He breaks off and looks at Token. “You keep on at Stormy, but I’ll step in as well. I’ll prepare Snatcher and impress on them the necessity to speed up her new paperwork.” Reaching into his pocket, Lost pulls out his phone, then hesitates, his eyes landing on me, then Token. “Haven’t you fuckers got some work to do?”
“He might.” Token points to me with a grin. He stifles a yawn, then adds, “Me? I’ve got sleep to catch up on.” With his laptop under his arm, he walks out.
Lost puts his head down and pulls some paperwork toward him. Feeling dismissed, I stand.
“We okay?” I ask, hesitantly.
It takes a couple of seconds, and then Prez’s face turns up. Grimacing, he states, “You tell me.”
With a clenched jaw, I step to the door and open it. After closing it behind me, I breathe out. Fuck it.
This isn’t a job you resign from, it’s a way of life, a lifelong commitment once you accept the patch. This club saved me when I thought I had nothing, gave me a purpose and only asked my loyalty in return. Hell, they’ve accepted my pain-in-the-ass sister, and all our current problems are down to me. They were prepared to go to war with the Crazy Wolves over Saffie, a woman they’d never have met were it not for me.
And what have I done? Shown I’d throw all that back in an instant, all for my own selfish needs.
Saffie doesn’t want me, her running off without a word made that clear. Now my inner thoughts were out in the open, what if the Devils decide they too no longer want me? It’s not like I’m a long-time member, I’ve only been patched in two years. The disrespect I’ve shown could see me losing my patch and being declared out bad.
Damn it.
I’m a grown man, yet my eyes water. I’ve fucked up. With my club and with Saffie.
Is there a way to come back from this? I can’t see it. Especially as I know, were Saffie to indicate that she needs me, I’d go with her in an instant. Full of regrets and wishes of what might have been, but it’s her I put first.
What do I do?
What can I, but go through the motions? I ride to the shop on autopilot, trying to put the question of my future with the club out of my head. What will be, will be.
Instead, I focus on the reason that’s brought me to this place. Saffie. Should I take her gesture as the final answer, or should I override her objections and try to see her? But to what end? What good would more talking do? Her actions have told me plainly she wants nothing to do with me, whether or not I’m a biker.
What danger is she in?
If Token’s to be believed, and I’ve no reason to doubt him, Duke hasn’t enough information to locate her. Maybe some time to calm down is all she needs to sensibly think about the offer I made. Perhaps her initial reaction doesn’t mean she’s said no to me forever. There’s still time before her paperwork is completed, and she’ll be ready to leave.
Backing my bike into a parking spot, I’ve still no answer, and no way forward decided.
“You’re late.” Grumbler spies me immediately.
Straightening my back, I approach him. In a few short sentences I tell him only that Saffie had walked out on me, effectively thumbing her nose at both mine and the club’s protection.
Once I’ve assured him Token’s pretty certain she’s safe, he guffaws, finding amusement in me having the shortest spell of having an old lady in history. I do a good job of pretending I don’t give a damn, wanting to end the conversation quickly. Then I volunteer myself for
a tricky job which will hopefully focus my attention.
But however complicated the fault is to find, Saffie stubbornly stays on my mind. It doesn’t help that I can picture the apartment she’s living in. Will she still go to work? Is her car still running? Fuck, she didn’t even let me help with that. Another thing to show she’s had enough of overbearing bikers controlling her life.
The day passes slowly. When I return to the clubhouse, she’s still on my mind. Rumours are rife about the woman who appeared yesterday evening, only to bolt in the middle of the night. Saffie, and her vulnerability, had touched many hearts. It doesn’t help that Eva, Patsy and Mary all seem to give me the cold shoulder. I want to defend myself, but keep my mouth shut. It was she who walked out. She who turned her back on the safety I could offer her.
Grumbler, it appears, isn’t much better off. Mary seems to be blaming him by association.
“I don’t understand why the club can’t help,” Mary comments theatrically loudly in passing while I’m speaking to her old man. “Saffie should not be alone in that apartment.”
“Club business,” Grumbler retorts. The way his old lady tosses her head as she walks off, I gather tonight he will not be getting lucky. His glare my way confirms that thought.
After dinner, I head out on my bike, just riding to nowhere to get Saffie out of my head. It proves impossible.
What I should do is forget her, but I can’t. Despite there being no rational reason for her I offered to upturn my life, then have to face she had no such reciprocal feeling. We were just passing ships in the night. I barely know her, and have no responsibility for her, not now she’s turned my offer down flat.
“You look like shit,” Kink remarks on my return.
Yeah, I probably do. Riding, for once, hadn’t helped. Maybe I should get drunk instead, but I forego the spirits and stick to beer, wanting to keep a clear head in case she needs me and calls. Fuck, I’m a fool. Sliding onto the bar stool adjacent to his, I place my bottle in front of me.
“It’s Saffie,” I tell him, leaning in close so I can speak confidentially. “She’s got me twisted in fuckin’ knots.”
Avenging Devil Part 1: Satan’s Devils MC - San Diego Chapter #3 Page 32