Torn by the Devil: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Broken Wings MC) (Satan's Outlaw Sins Book 3)

by Sophia Gray

  Ratched closed the door, and Eyebrow floored it. The bouncer was busy letting people in so hopefully he didn’t pay any attention to the dark-colored van driving around behind his club at night without the lights on.

  As soon as he parked us in front of the back door nearest to Jasmine, we all filed out. Sam the Slayer reached for his gun, but I shook my head. Too many guns would be a bad idea. I should probably put mine away too. I snorted. Like that was going to happen.

  “Be ready, all of you,” I demanded, my voice thick. I hadn’t heard much at all over the line since he’d said he was going to fuck her, and if we had taken too long to make our move… If he had actually… I couldn’t even think about it.

  The handle of the back door wouldn’t budge no matter how hard I tried. Locked. Of course. Damn it! I kicked it in frustration.

  Eyebrow’s fingers flew over the keyboard. He hadn’t always been a hacker, but we had needed one a few times, so he had taught himself out of necessity. In no time at all, there was a slight buzzing sound, and the handle turned in my hand. That man deserved a raise.

  To the right were Jasmine and Greene. She was pouring a drink into his mouth, her hand down his pants. His hand was on hers, making her stroke him. His other hand was on her bare tits—he had pulled down on her dress, ripped it even. The fucker!

  No one else seemed to notice our arrival, so I shoved my gun into the back of my jeans. My brothers and I hauled the man off of Jasmine. My hand covered his mouth so he couldn’t scream. Oh, he struggled all right, arms and legs flailing, but we were too much for him, and we forced him out of the back door. Jasmine closed it behind us.

  I shoved Greene into the arms of the boys and stared at Jasmine. Her makeup was smudged, her eyes wide and red, but I saw no blood, no bruises.

  “Are you all right?” I murmured.

  She nodded.

  Greene was back to fighting. Sam the Slayer had just wrestled a gun away from him and Eyebrow socked Greene right in the temple. The guy went down, dazed but not unconscious. He lumbered to his feet.

  I grabbed his shirt and dragged him along. Only remembering that the bouncer was just around the corner, prevented me from shooting him right then and there.

  This area of town wasn’t the greatest so it wasn’t too populated at night, and the guys and I, with Jasmine trailing behind, brought the fucker to a back alley.

  I shoved Greene to the ground. His head connected with a sick crack and all of the fight went out of him. He stared up at me with tears in his eyes. Fucking coward.

  With all of my weight behind it, I stomped my foot on his chest to keep him in place. I pulled my gun from the waistband of my jeans and I aimed the barrel for right between his eyes. Without looking up from my target, I barked, “Two of you go and check.”

  Footsteps told me my order was being followed. They would make sure no one was nearby who might hear and report the shot. Or shots.

  Time and space and everything just seemed to stop as I waited for them to return. Finally, Sam the Slayer and Ratched returned, both nodded.

  Arm straight, gun not wavering, I fired a single shot.

  Greene didn’t even make a sound.

  As I watched him die, something inside of me snapped. I couldn’t explain it. Something just changed, shifted, transformed, I don’t know, but I felt free.

  Free.

  I would always carry the scars of my past, but my past could remain there. It didn’t have to influence my present, and it sure as hell had no place in my future. Jasmine had so much ambition for herself. Why couldn’t I? Didn’t I want to be more than just a guy who went around town shooting pedophiles? There were other ways to change things, weren’t there?

  For so long, rage and anger and frustration had controlled me. I had kept all of those emotions deep inside of me whenever my foster father had touched me. As a child, I couldn’t cope with what had happened to me. That no one had believed me hadn’t helped any, so I just internalized everything. It had only made everything worse. I had built up huge walls so that I couldn’t ever get hurt again.

  With no way to cope with the horrible fate life had given me, I had grown up hating everything and everyone. Sam the Slayer had been my first real friend. We had bonded, at first, over our bikes, but when we had gotten drunk one night at a bar and he had confessed that someone had molested his sister, I first had the idea of an MC. It surprised and unsettled me how easily I was able to find and recruit other guys who had someone in their lives who had been molested too.

  But the recruiting process had been so long and arduous for both the guys and me, that my nightmares had gotten so bad I tried to escape them by not sleeping. That was when I had turned to drugs. And the drugs had led me to the mob and to contract killing.

  Because of that rage and frustration, and being a gun for hire, the only logical next step had been to start offing pedos. I hadn’t seen another way. Talking the guys into it hadn’t been that hard. Some had taken revenge already for their loved ones. Some, like me, saw this as a way to cope, to have revenge even if it wasn’t against the one who had done the actual harm to his loved one or to myself. Believe me, I had wanted to go after my foster father. I had wanted him to be my first mission. Who knows? Maybe his death by my hand would’ve been enough for me, and I never would’ve embarked on such a dark path.

  Finding him hadn’t been too hard even though it had been years since I had left his house, but he was in hospice. He was dying of prostate cancer. I’d found him only for him to die before I could make a move. Honestly, I had felt robbed, cheated even.

  So I found other pedos and killed them instead. That had been my life, for a time. But those walls I had built up to try and protect myself? Jasmine had been the only one to crack them. She had been there for me. Even when she had left me, she had already made changes in me. For some time now, I had wanted to be a better man for her, but I hadn’t actually been ready to take that step to do anything about it.

  What was it about Jasmine? There had been other women, but I hadn’t even thought about telling them about my past. With her, I had opened up. For the most part, she was good and kind, but she also had a devilish side too. Her soul wasn’t completely white, and while her sins—stealing a little bit here and there from customers mostly—weren’t anything serious, she could level with me and me with her. Her upbringing had been completely different from mine, but she could still relate to me. And that wasn’t even to mention how we sparked in the bedroom. We connected on so many levels.

  Normally, after I offed a pedo, I felt better for a little while, but it never lasted long. Killing had become such a huge part of my life that it had replaced drugs for me. It helped to dull the pain, to keep the nightmares at bay, but it never lasted long. I would need another fix, need another mission.

  But this feeling of freedom… I had never felt before, and I somehow knew that this was the last kill I would ever need to make. My past would no longer torment me. I could move past it. I suspected that it might have to do with the personal nature of this kill. This hadn’t been the first time I’d been shot at or even injured during a mission, but this fucker had gone after Jasmine. He had deserved to die for his crimes.

  Like Jasmine had told me a long while ago, there would always be other pedophiles. I still wanted to go after them, but I wouldn’t kill them. I’d figure something out. Jasmine and I could figure it out together.

  I grabbed Jasmine and stared deeply into her eyes. She looked peaceful. I breathed easier. I hadn’t ever wanted to kill in front of her again, but maybe now she could share in the peace and freedom I now felt.

  My hands brushed her hair back from her shoulders, and I cupped her cheeks. My lips claimed hers, soft at first but then more urgently, with a needy kind of desperation. We were both gasping for air when we pulled apart.

  “Jasmine, I want to tell you something.” My voice was low, soft, and almost unrecognizable. “From this moment on, I’m a changed man. We’re leaving the brotherhood,
and we’re starting over.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jasmine

  The entire trek back to the clubhouse, I sat on Pax’s lap, clinging to him. There had been enough room for his bike to fit into the back of the van so we didn’t have to drive it back. I needed this closeness with him. We didn’t talk or kiss. There was nothing that needed to be said. We were together. We were safe. We were ready to put that horrible crap behind us.

  As soon as we arrived, I took a long, hot shower to wash away the makeup and stench the sex club had left on me. Thankfully Greene hadn’t touched me that much, so my body didn’t feel that dirty, but even so, the shower felt like it was washing me clean, stripping me of my old life, and giving me license to start this new one afresh.

  I emerged from the steam feeling triumphant and, more importantly, happy.

  I was at peace. With the past, with my present, and with the future.

  And I knew and trusted Pax felt the exact same way.

  When I exited the bathroom, there was a commotion going on downstairs—laughing, talking, cheering. I grinned. It sounded like a party.

  Quickly, I changed into something that felt more me than that skanky dress I had just been wearing to the sex club. I could already imagine the blaze it would spark when I burned it. A quick brush of my hair, some light makeup, and I was ready.

  I hurried downstairs to find all of the guys crammed into the bar area. Music was playing, and everyone looked so happy I couldn’t help but smile. My smile stretched even wider when I spied Pax. He was at the end of the bar, nursing a beer, watching everyone. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I enjoyed seeing him so relaxed.

  After he had finished his beer, he waved off Sam the Slayer, who was currently acting as bartender and had started to reach for another bottle.

  Pax stood and clapped his hands. It took three tries for the guys to notice and another three before the place was quiet enough for him to be heard.

  My dead sexy, hot, biker dude took his time looking around. I still didn’t think he saw me, but that didn’t matter. He obviously had something to share with the guys, and I was as interested as they were to hear what their leader had to say.

  “We’ve been through so much,” Pax started, his voice thick and emotional. “Good times. Bad times. Decent times. Shitty times. We’ve dealt with it all, and we’ve come out stronger for it.”

  A round of cheers went up.

  Pax raised his hand for quiet. “We all have different backgrounds, different strengths, and different weaknesses. We’ve all grown, as individuals, and as a family.”

  Some of the guys chest-bumped, knocked their fists together, or clanged their beers.

  “We’ve all had a darkness looming over us. Our pasts or the shit that went down with our loved ones… We bonded over that, as crazy and fucked up as that is. The world can be a dangerous place, and we did our part to make it better, safer.”

  “Did?” Ratched asked quietly, so quietly that not everyone might have heard him.

  Pax had to have, but he ignored his brother. “Life has a funny way of handling things, you know? It can give us everything, and it can take it away. And sometimes, it gives it back to you.” He crossed his arms, muscles flexing. “I never had a family until this, until us.”

  Another round of cheers. More hugs, more drinks, more talking and laughing.

  It took a fair amount of time before everyone settled again.

  “You’ll always be my family,” Pax said, his low voice carrying throughout the silent bar. “Always.” He pounded on fist to his chest. “Ride together. Ride forever.”

  “Ride together. Ride forever!” Most, if not all, of the brothers took up the shout.

  “But now my road is taking me elsewhere. I have to get out of the MC.”

  “Wait, you’re stepping down?” Sam the Slayer asked.

  “You’re leaving us?” Eyebrow shook his head.

  “Dude, no way.” Killa, a guy whose body was covered in tattoos, glowered at Pax. “You can’t, man. No way, no how.”

  “I have to, and I will,” Pax said calmly. “You all are free. You can go back to your lives. Do what you want. Or you can stay in the club.” He shrugged. “Do whatever feels right. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest. The words Pax had said to me while we had watched Greene die came back to me. “From this moment on, I’m a changed man. We’re leaving the brotherhood, and we’re starting over.” I hadn’t realized just what that would mean to both him and the guys. It was heartbreaking. They really were a family, and now he was leaving them because of me, for me.

  No. It wasn’t about me. It was about him. Pax was the one walking away. I might have wanted him to stop his missions, but I never expected him to leave the motorcycle club behind. That could only ever be his choice. He had been with the club far longer than we had been together. They were as much a part of him as I was.

  “After everything we’ve been through, you’re just abandoning us?” someone called out from the back.

  “I’m not abandoning you,” Pax protested. “You don’t—”

  But he was losing the crowd as his brothers began to call out to him and talk to each other, some louder than others.

  “You’re deserting us.”

  “For no good reason.”

  “For a terrible reason. A girl who left you already. Who can’t make up her mind. Why go back to her? Why choose her over us?”

  I winced. Some of the guys standing near me backed away as if I had the plague.

  I opened my mouth to speak up but then shut it. They were Pax’s people. It would be best for him to handle this on his own. My trying to help would probably only make matters worse.

  “You have to understand.” Pax took a deep breath.

  Sam the Slayer cracked open a beer and slid it down the bar. Pax grabbed it and took three long swallows.

  “Sometimes, you have to move on.”

  Grumbling started. Most weren’t happy, but Ratched was nodding slowly. I liked him. He was calm and levelheaded. Plus, he had kept on top of Pax to keep up with his exercises after he had been discharged from the hospital. A good nurse and a great guy.

  Ratched waved a hand in the air. “You don’t seem so… tortured,” he settled on.

  And it was true. There had always been a rough edge to Pax, a part of him that seemed too damaged to ever be fixed. Right now, though, it was gone. He looked happier.

  “We all have our demons,” Pax said. “That’s why we pulled the crazy shit we’ve done.”

  “You got rid of yours,” Eyebrow said.

  “Good for you.” Sam the Slayer walked out from behind the bar and clinked his beer to Pax’s. Then he gave him a one-armed hug.

  The grumbling changed to congratulatory remarks, and Pax made his way through the crowd, talking to each of his brothers, hugging them, laughing with them, making his peace with them all. They really loved each other. Although Pax had been a bad man, he had a good heart. He loved me, and he would always be loyal to me.

  Was there anything else I could ask for?

  The party continued, a rockin’ good time, and it became more than just a celebration that we had triumphed over Frank Greene. It became a goodbye party too. Almost. More like an until-we-run-into-each-other-again kind of party. I had no idea what the future would hold or where we would go, but the guys would always be a part of Pax, and I didn’t mind sharing him at all.

  Wives and girlfriends began to show up, and that was when the night really started to get wild and crazy. There was dancing and laughter and happiness. I didn’t seek out Pax, wanting him to have his time with his guys since I would have him for the rest of our lives.

  But when he did come over to me, his eyes brightening his face as he took in my tight tank top and my old denim miniskirt, I did not turn him away. We slow danced despite the fast, upbeat song playing. His heart sounded so loud as I rested my head against his chest. Again, we didn’t talk. We
just were. And that was all either of us needed.

  ***

  A couple of days later, Pax and I were just finishing packing up. As I grabbed my phone charger, I hesitated.

  “What’s up?” Pax asked.

  I walked over and sat on the stripped bed. “Marie,” I murmured. I hadn’t heard back from her after our fight. Yesterday, I had called my parents and talked to them for the first time in ages. It had been almost surreal, but I was glad Marie had never told them about my absence—when I had been in the coma—so they hadn’t worried about me. Dad said I sounded happier than ever before, and Mom thought my idea to go to beauty school was great. She didn’t think I would fail. I had had my share of disappointments in life, some before Pax, some with, but beauty school would not be one of them.