Page 53 of Savior
I’m about to get up and attempt to leave, when the Demon who brought Legion the shots, slides into the booth across from me. Another one takes a seat directly beside me, effectively trapping me against the stained wall. My fear kicks up a few notches. They were on their best behavior in Legion’s presence. Clearly afraid of him. Though, now that he’s gone… I swallow hard and attempt to make myself smaller in the booth, pressing closer still, to the dirty wall.
“Easy baby, I don’t bite.” The guy beside me grins. “Unless you’re into that sorta thing.”
I’m too nervous to speak, my eyes fearfully shifting between the Demon beside me and the Demon across from me.
The other one speaks again. “How long you been fuckin’ Legion behind Keegan’s back?” he asks, and the two of them snicker at his question. My mouth gapes open, as if what they’re asking could possibly be a valid question. He reaches across the table to shove his buddy’s arm in jest. “Keegan sure knows how to pick em’ eh?” They both laugh at his joke.
“Thought Lucinda was hot…” The Demon next to me says, his eyes raking over my body as he slides himself a little closer. His demoralizing gaze feels like filthy hands groping at me. I try not to shudder under the predatory look in his eyes. “I prefer a woman with more curves myself, though… You showing yet? Hard to tell in that pretty little dress you got on, baby. But I’ve always wanted to fuck a pregnant woman.” He licks his lips, a primal growl rumbling in his throat. I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at him, clearly imagining fucking me. Probably right on this filthy table in front of his whole crew, the way they did those prostitutes.
“She’s got a nice rack, too. A pretty mouth.” The other comments.
I swallow hard again. I should have stayed out of it. Just let whatever this is between Dean and Legion be settled between themselves. Coming here was an awful mistake…
If these Demons don’t kill me, Dean definitely will.
A ride into the Chrome Demons’ territory usually takes about forty-five minutes. I make it in twenty-fucking-eight, barreling into the front parking lot of their club on my Rebel.
I spot Vanna’s car parked in the far side of the lot at the end of the row of motorcycles, as I pull in a few spots over, closer to the main entrance of the Demons’ Den. A run-down pile of bricks with a cracked walkway sprouting weeds, leading to the front door where a prospect is standing guard. A prospect, and my fucking brother.
Removing the gun from my waist band, I tuck it behind my back quickly, hiding it beneath my leather jacket. As I dismount the bike, the prospect is already on the phone, informing whomever inside that I’ve arrived. No matter, though. I’m getting in there, one way or another. If I have to shoot my own brother, Vanna’s getting out of this place.
There are sixteen motorcycles parked out front. Six-fucking-teen… My heart races as I force myself to walk at an unhurried pace towards the two Demons standing guard… Fucking Vanna!
“State your business, Savior.” The prospect attempts to hard eye me.
I keep my tone level and state, “You all know why I’m here. If you think the two of you are going to stop me from going through that door, I urge you to re-evaluate what your own lives are worth to you.”
“Dean, I told her to get out of here…” My brother begins to say, when I shoot him a look that I hope conveys it’s in his best interest to shut the fuck up and get out of my way. He does, simply nods, and lowers his eyes from me. I shift my attention back to the prospect, who suddenly doesn’t seem quite as snarky as he did a moment ago.
“Someone is going to greet you inside.” The prospect warns me, though his tone sounds somewhat apologetic.
I shove past him and stride up to the dimly lit club door. Swinging it open, I step inside. It’s dark and grungy. Zero improvement from the last time I saw inside this place. It reeks of reefer, cigarettes and shitty booze. I shut the door behind me as my entrance draws the attention of the entire club. A big biker with a black beard, wearing a Demons’ cut that declares him Sergeant at Arms, steps up to me. He’s not quite as big as Viking, but he’s twice my size in bulk.
“Help you with something, Savior?” he asks, slapping my leather jacket open wider, checking for a gun and to see if I’m either stupid, or crazy enough to wear a cut beneath it inside their club house, uninvited.
“I ain’t a Savior tonight.” I have to square my shoulders and lift my chin to meet his gaze, but I do so, without hesitation.
To my surprise, he doesn’t pat me down, only warns me, “Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.”
“Alright.”
“You here for that dime piece?” he tilts his head back towards the right side of the bar behind him.
Breaking my eyes away from him to scan the room for Vanna, I spot her immediately. She’s sitting in a corner booth with two guys in Demon cuts. One across from her, one sitting on the outside of the booth next to her, blocking her in. Hovering way too motherfucking close.
It irks me to no end. The danger she put herself in… I have to force myself to inhale. The muscles in my chest are so fucking tight with an adrenalin pumping mixture of rage and anxiety. They’ve even got her trapped at the same table that… I push the memories of what I witnessed that night aside. My jaw aches, and I unclench it to force the words out, replying as calmly as I can manage, “I am, indeed.” Though, I can’t take my eyes off her now. She’s got herself pressed up against the grimy wall, as far away as she can get herself from them… If they fuckin’ touched her… Hell hath no fury…
“She came here of her own accord. Seekin’ out Legion.” He says the words with a notable sneer in his voice. “You sure can pick em’, Keegan.” He chuckles. “First your own brother, now Legion getting in on your action. You like to pass your pussy around? Or do you just have shit luck with hot snatch?”
I ignore what he’s implying. I’m not going to dignify that shit with a response. “Why hasn’t she been able to leave of her own accord?” I shift my gaze back to their Sergeant at Arms, making a solid effort to keep my true level of aggression from seeping into my words.
“Hot piece of ass like that…” his tone insinuating things I don’t want to think about. He lets out an airy whistle through pursed lips.
Fuck…Maximum effort…
“Heard a lot about you.” The SA looks me over again. “About the guy you were before your own brother cucked you, anyway.” He grins in my face. Testing me. Seeing if he can push me and how far. I wonder if he’s under orders from Legion, to do so. Much like the way Legion orchestrated the fight at the bonfire.
If I lose my shit in their club, out-numbered fourteen to one…
