Page 18 of Devil’s Torture

The woman next to him looks genuinely confused and I’m sure she has questions considering she doesn’t know me. When I left ten years ago, she wasn’t around.

I don’t know what to feel right now. I’m oscillating between pure fucking rage and crushing despair.

Keeping my eyes on Lucifer, I grit out through my clenched teeth, “I missed it all. I missed Bexley being pregnant. I missed my daughter’s first steps. Her first word. The first time she lost a tooth and found out the tooth fairy was real.” I run my fingers through my short hair and let out a sound filled with disbelief. “Hell by now she probably knows Santa isn’t even real.”

The woman next to Prodigal asks him a question, but it’s too low for me to hear it. He lowers his head and whispers his answer in her ear. It’s a moment filled with intimacy, and it has an ache spreading through my chest.

“I missed it all,” my voice breaks and I fucking hate it.

“There’s still time,” Lucifer starts but my eyes narrow at him, and he stops before swallowing hard. “You missed a lot,” he admits, the truth in his words ringing through the room, “and it wasn’t your choice to miss it. That’s on me. If I had known, maybe I would have done things differently.”

“If I had known, I would have come back, club directive or not.”

I don’t say the words as a taunt or as some rebellion. I say them because they’re the truth.

If I had known Bexley was pregnant, I would have come back to New Orleans. I wouldn’t have taken the nomad status as my punishment and my protection.

Lucifer could strip me of my cut and my patch. I’m openly disrespecting him.

He doesn’t.

With an understanding nod, he sighs, “I wouldn’t have stopped you.” He holds my eyes, steady and guild ridden. “If I had known, I would have told you.”

It would almost be easier if he had known. Then I’d have somewhere to put this fucking feeling lodged in my chest.

Anger.

Fear.

Helplessness.

Cherise’s voice is gentle, “What do you need from us?”

“I have no idea,” I breathe out the words because this feels too big. I’m not even sure where to start. I need so much; too much.

“What do you want?” This time, her question is easier.

At least for me.

“I want Bexley. I want my daughter. I want my family. I can’t get the last ten years back, but I’m not going to allow any more time to be wasted.”

Something in Lucifer’s gaze shifts. It might be pride.

“It might not matter to you right now,” his voice is gruff, “but we have your back.” He leans forward like he has at the table in Church when things are just about to get interesting. “What’s your plan?”

“Fuck, I don’t have a plan.” I hate admitting it, but it’s true.

“I want to help,” Cherise says.

The woman next to Prodigal steps forward, her face open in a way that almost makes me flinch. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Wrenley, Prodigal’s Old Lady.” I look at my VP who stares at the woman like she’s his next breath and I have to fight against the jealousy rising up in my soul. “I know we don’t know each other, and I don’t know the whole story, but I can see you’re angry and in pain. If there’s anything I can do to help, I would really like to.” The smile on her face brightens a little. “I’m a chef, so if you want to woo her with food, I’ve got you.”

“Wrenley,” I try to soften my voice, to keep the anger out of it because this isn’t her fault or her problem and she’s being kind, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Rune. I’ve been a nomad for the last ten years, but this is my home chapter and I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

Lucifer doesn’t correct me, not a single part of it. I wasn’t expecting him to talk about how I was forced to leave. That’s ten-year-old club business.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do to make everything okay or how I’m going to gain my place with my girls, but I’m not going to give up.” My tone is firm as if I say it with enough conviction then I’ll make it true. I’m aware it doesn’t work like that. “It’ll take time.”

My stomach knots at the thought. How much time?