Devil's Savior

CHAPTER 13

My brothers are tense around me, but my body feels loose and ready to do what is needed to be done. My mind is clear, and my senses are sharper. With every person I’ve seen walking into the dilapidated house that the RRMC is using for its brothel, everything gets clearer.

I understand why my brothers are tense, but I trust the plan we’ve laid out and I’m more than ready to start to make right what has been happening right under our noses. We should have stepped in sooner, but we can’t take away the free will of those who live around us.

If grown women wanted to get hooked on some bad fucking drugs and sell their bodies, that’s their choice. But it’s not just grown women.

Remembering the photo Lucifer showed us of the fourteen-year-old girl who overdosed has my eyes clouding over with a red haze for a moment. I have to fight against the need to storm inside and start ripping apart the pieces of shit who are more than happy to pay Hustle and his fucked-up club for the opportunity to defile an underage child who is so strung out that they don’t know which way is up.

The evidence of it is right in front of us, and it makes me sick just as much as it makes my resolve to rain hellfire down on these bastards stronger.

We’re just waiting for the signal at this point. We sent Adam inside to get the lay of the land because pulling blueprints of a building doesn’t tell us the entire story. Adam wasn’t a Prospect for us when we dealt with the RRMC under Anarchy’s leadership and, hopefully, they haven’t been keeping a close eye on us. I doubt they have been because they would have needed resources for that to happen.

Resources they clearly don’t have.

Scythe is on the backside of the house backing Lucifer up. They have the best vantage point for the back windows which is where Adam is supposed to signal from after sending Prez a text if there are any surprises inside.

Just because I’m calmer than my club brothers doesn’t mean I’m not seething. I am. Not only has the RRMC been fucking with the balance of our city, but this whole mess is causing me to miss time with my woman.

I’m not even sure which I’m more pissed off about at this point.

When I called Sioux this afternoon, knowing she’d be out of work and on her way home, her voice was bright and carefree when she answered, “Hi Crosby, miss me that much you needed to call me instead of seeing me soon?”

My heart sank because I knew I was going to disappoint her. I hated it, but knew it was necessary. The silence stretched between us as words froze in my throat. The thought of upsetting her and losing the progress we had worked so hard for had me unsure of what to say.

It was a feeling I didn’t have a lot of experience with, and it was fucking with my head.

Sioux sighed, the sound heavy and full of remorse. “You have club business to take care of, don’t you?” There wasn’t any judgement in her tone, but there was disappointment, and it was enough to send my thoughts spiraling.

I couldn’t lose her. Not again.

Resentment took hold in my chest and squeezed my lungs. For a split second I resented the club, which I had never felt before. The feeling cleared just as quickly because if it weren’t for the DSMC then I might have never met Sioux to begin with.

I cleared my throat, but my voice was still gruff and thick, “I’m sorry, Firefly. I was looking forward to spending the night with you. But,” I started, but never got to finish my sentence.

“Is it important?” Sioux’s question brought me up short and I debated what to say and how much to share. “I know you guys don’t always follow the law, but I also know you are good men who do good work. That’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s very important,” I admitted. I hesitated for a moment because I didn’t want to bring up the club whose former Prez shot her without a second thought. “The Rolling Rebels have been making waves and putting people in danger. Kids,” I choked the word out and I swear I could feel my woman’s anger through the phone.

“Then go and take care of it,” her voice was as hard as steel, but I knew in my gut it wasn’t directed at me. Her voice softened, “Then come home to me and let me wash away your sins.”

My heart fucking soared while my cock thickened behind the fly of my jeans. It was disorienting and it made my vision swim while my head felt dizzy.

“Sioux,” I rasped. There was so much I wanted to say, but the words were lodged in my throat.

I love you.

I’ll come home to you.

You are everything to me and then some.

All those words and more were on the tip of my tongue, but fear gripped me again. I didn’t want to chase her away. I wanted to be able to look into her beautiful blue eyes the first time I told her how much she means to me. And then I wanted to kiss her until we couldn’t breathe but found life in each other.

“I know,” she whispered, “but you will not say those words over the phone before you walk into a dangerous situation. Not for the first time,” the threat was clear in her voice.

Her acknowledgement of the connection between us, of the feelings that arced between us like electricity, calmed something in me and soothed some of the fears of her running away from me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I teased her, my voice soft because I still wanted to tell her exactly how I felt. I didn’t want there to be any miscommunication or unsaid words.

But I also knew she was right, and it wasn’t the time. Not yet. But it would be soon, and I would make sure of it.

“As long as you know, Firefly. That’s enough for now,” there was a promise in my words, for later, for more, for soon.

“You better come home to me in one piece. I will bandage wounds, but they better not be deep or life threatening,” the tremor in her voice belied how strong she sounded.

“I will always come home to you.”

It was a vow; one I intend to keep.

That was hours ago, and the memory of her voice is keeping me moving forward, but I need to focus on the task at hand so I can keep my promise to her. I scan the area, again, and curl up my lip at the state of the house in front of us.

At some point it might have been a beautiful home, but it’s in disrepair now and it looks like the earth is on the verge of taking it back over and claiming it back to where it all began. But it’s not there yet. The walls are still standing, which is more than can be said for the entirety of the roof.

I would be surprised that anyone would step inside of those doors to have sex, but I’ve seen some of the seediest parts of the city and I can’t find it in me to be shocked. People will always find a way to feed their demons if they rule a person’s life.

It’s clear, without ever stepping a foot inside of this hell hole, the demons are running the show here.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out, my screen already on the dimmest setting to not attract too much attention.

“Adam hasn’t signaled any surprises, and his time is up inside,” I murmur the words, but the men surrounding me have been waiting for this and are listening intensely.

I look back down at my screen, his second message only the number ten. I start counting in my head, forcing myself to not rush through as adrenaline spikes in my veins. When I get to five, I hold up my hand and count down to ensure that my brothers move with me in synch.

We might be more than willing to rush into a situation, guns blazing, but we do it as a unit. Always as a unit. As a family.

On two, I pull one of my guns from the double holster wrapped around my chest. Everyone flanking me does the same. I glance over at Prodigal and his eyes are already on me.

Earlier, when we went over the plan, he wanted to lead the second team to take the front, but I insisted on doing it. His eyes turned flinty with fury because I was pushing back against his authority as VP.

But I couldn’t let him go in first.

“Prodigal,” the way his brows furrowed together, I knew he could hear the plea in my voice, “you have to let me go in first. If shit goes down, I can’t come back to the compound and tell Wrenley that something happened to you. I won’t. Not when she’s pregnant.”

I wasn’t going to yield. He studied my face and knew there was no way I would back down.

He heaved a heavy sigh and then shook his head, the challenge clear in his voice, “But you’ll make me do that to Sioux? I don’t fucking think so, brother.”

“I made a promise to my woman that I would come home to her, and I plan on keeping it, but I also can’t allow you to go in first. I’m an enforcer for the club. Let me do my damn job,” my words were barely leashed fury.

We took a step closer to each other, abandoning the blueprints laid out on the table in Church. I would fight him on this. And I was determined to win.

Did I want anything to happen to me? Hell no, I don’t have a death wish, but he also had just a little bit more to live for with a baby on the way.

“Apostle goes in first,” Lucifer’s voice cut through our standoff.

When Prodigal’s head whipped around, the soft pleading in his father’s eyes at my VP’s shoulders slumping.

“Fine, but I got your six,” Prodigal relented.

As I form a fist, we move as one toward the front door of a house that should have been allowed to turn to ash instead of witnessing whatever horrors we’re bound to find inside. With a swift kick, not caring if the door is really secured or locked, the wood explodes like it was just waiting for the chance at redemption instead of shuttering the depravity inside.

The first person I see is a man in a RRMC cut sitting on a couch that is covered in dust and grime and older than me. His head is thrown back and his fingers are curled into the hair of someone on their knees in front of him. I don’t think.

I fucking act.

My gun is drawn and with a gentle pull of the trigger, as his head tips forward, I shoot him right between the eyes. The person on their knees doesn’t even notice the sound of the shot or the splatter of his blood on her at first. But when she does, she recoils back on her ass and starts to crab walk backwards, her screams a symphony of promised violence that increases in volume the farther she gets from the macabre scene in front of her.

Her head whips around towards me and my brothers and my heart fucking cracks open. A child. There is no way this girl is more than thirteen.

It takes her a moment for her eyes to scan over us and her eyes widen as she takes in our cuts. That has her curling into a ball and shielding her head. “Please no,” she begs.

I glance behind me, and I can see the haunted eyes of my brothers. “This isn’t the worst we’ll find, I’m sure,” I tell them, hoping to shore up their resolve.

It fucking works as their eyes snap to me instead of soaking in the blood covered girl who is cowering away from us. The moment stretches and yawns, forcing us all to live within it for far too long. There is no escape.

The sound of shots ringing out from the back of the house has time speeding back up. “Hacker,” I order, and he nods.

He knows what he needs to do, and I don’t glance at the girl again as I move by her. I can’t. Because I can’t focus on her right now.

There is more work to do.

Hacker peels off from the group and crouches down near the girl, his hands out in front of him as if approaching a feral animal. Because he is.

I tune out his words as I make my way toward the stairs because they’re closer to us than where the rest of my brothers are entering at the back door. With every step we take, together, it gets harder to breathe. The air is oppressive with shame and misery, but I can’t fall victim to it.

There’s no other choice but to press on. So, that’s what I do, feeling my brothers at my back and taking every step with me.

Just as I’m cresting the last step, I hear Hacker’s voice behind me, “She’s out with the Prospects. They’re taking her to the van.”

I don’t turn to acknowledge him and hope he can see my nod even in the dim light of the shit hole we’re in. The house might be faded now, but there is former glory to be found here. It’s on the verge of palatial and I can imagine a family of means and money living her at one time, projecting happy moments along the walls.

They’ve all vanished now.

What has been left behind are shadows and ghosts.

There are eight doors on the second floor with various sounds coming from behind them. Are they doors or portals into the darkest depths of hell?

I have no idea, but we’re all about to find out.

As I start to move to the farthest door from the stairs, moving along the banister overlooking the staircase, I know my brothers will line up and prepare to enter the other doors. We’ll be doing this like we do everything else—together.

Once I’m in position, I glance back to find everyone ready, their eyes are hard and trained on me. I hold my hand up to indicate five and then let it drop. We count as one. When we get to zero, the doors in front of us give way and I can almost feel how grateful this once stately home is to have us here now.

When I enter the room I’ve taken on as my responsibility, I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I see a woman in her early twenties. But then my lip curls in disgust as I realize the man on top of her, pressing her into the mattress as he fucks her, is wearing a RRMC cut and is at least three times her age. If that weren’t enough, her eyes are fluttering like she can’t stay conscious.

But he doesn’t care. He pounds into her harder and bile rises in my throat.

I close the distance between us in a few strides and press the barrel of my gun against the man’s temple. I make sure to make contact with the skin, knowing it has to still be hot from the shot I fired only minutes ago.

The man’s face turns toward me slowly and I narrow my eyes in recognition. He was there the night we went to the RRMC clubhouse and warned Anarchy about leaving Wrenley alone. It was clear he was high as a fucking kite then and from the wild look in his eyes and the way his pupils are blown out, he’s high now.

“If you want a turn, you’re going to have to wait, brother” he sneers at me, not even bothering to look closely enough at my cut to see I’m not one of his brothers. Or maybe he can’t look closely enough.

It doesn’t really matter.

I hear shots coming from the other rooms on the second floor and downstairs.

Lucifer used his contacts on the force to give us a little bit of a grace period. The men who know and trust us were more than happy to give it. That doesn’t mean we have all the time in the world to play games though.

Not when there are people who need our help.

The woman moans, but it’s not in pleasure. It’s a painfilled sound that makes my gut clench.

“Tell the Devil you’re a gift from the DSMC.”

The man’s eyes widen right before I squeeze the trigger. The woman underneath him as he slumps over her doesn’t react to being sprayed by his blood. Her arms go limp, and she whimpers.

When I roll him off her, she doesn’t react. I crouch down and look her over, not really noticing her nudity because all I can see is a person who has lost touch with their humanity and is on the brink of being lost forever. It saddens me and I want to help her.

I need to help her.

“Open your eyes,” I demand.

To my surprise she listens and her eyes flutter open to reveal vacant dishwater-colored eyes. There is no soul behind them, but I can imagine that there once was.

“My hero,” she murmurs and tries to sit up.

She tries to reach for me, but I move faster than her drugged out body. I scoop her up into my arms and stride out of the room, leaving the corpse of a man who was never worthy of wearing any cut behind. The woman is shaking in my arms, but I’m not surprised.

There wasn’t a blanket on the thin mattress, or any sheets, and I wasn’t able to wrap her up. She doesn’t seem concerned that she’s naked and I don’t glance at her body.

As I move past the doors my brothers took down, they start to appear, some of them behind me and some in front. I glance around and almost fall to my knees. They’re all holding females, and the ages vary widely. The girl that Feral is cradling against his chest has to be as young as ten but could be older considering she is skin and bones. But not by much.

His eyes meet mine and I’m reminded of the stories we’ve been told about how he got his road name. Right now, he’s the beast.

Everyone my brothers are holding is naked or almost naked. No one is wrapped up in a blanket.

It makes me realize that we were underprepared for this mission. We should have considered this and planned for it. But it’s too late for that now.

The only solace I can find, while surrounded by so much heartbreak and sadness, is that the girl in Feral’s arms and the one we encountered when we first entered the house seem to be the only ones who are underage. But it’s hard to tell and we won’t know for sure until Hacker runs checks on everyone.

I have no doubt that some of these females have no homes to return to, but I’m hoping a few do. Either way, we’ll get them the help they need.

The woman in my arms stirs and wraps her arms around my neck, snuggling deeper into my chest. I recoil slightly, but also know that she’s seeking comfort. It’s probably been a long time since she had any.

It’s nothing more than that.

“My hero,” she sighs again, her arms going limp even as they cling to me.

I swallow down the snarl that wants to rip from my throat and force my feet to move again. She needs help. They all do.

As I stomp down the stairs, I’m met with Lucifer whose eyes are glowing with rage as he takes in his men.

“I should have stopped this sooner,” his voice cracks when he looks at the girl in Feral’s arms.

“No regrets,” I murmur as I pass him to head toward the vans we have waiting for us. “Now is better than never.”

He nods, but from the remorse swimming in his eyes, he doesn’t really believe it.

I’m not sure I do either.