Devil's Savior

CHAPTER 16

I brace myself before I walk into the DSMC clubhouse knowing that I’ll probably be met by pure fucking chaos. How could it be anything different after the night we had last night and the number of distrustful, and strung-out women, who are now under our care.

It’s clear that some of the people we rescued last night will need to detox and go through rehab before anything else can happen. I hope that they’re able to kick the habit. It’s only then that we can help them get their lives on track.

For the two girls I know are underage, I’m not sure how we can proceed. They need rehab and support, but there are probably more legal hoops to jump through and consider. Just thinking about it has a headache starting to form behind my eyes.

I’m looking forward to being filled in with what went down last night from Lucifer and his team’s perspective. I have quite a few unanswered questions. But once my team and I went upstairs, our focus was on making sure all the women were taken out and brought back to the compound.

I couldn’t focus on who was found in the house as far as the men go, and especially those who were part of the RRMC. I know that their shit pile of a club are down at least two brothers since my bullets took them out.

But what about everyone else? Was Hustle in the house or did he escape the sting of retribution?

I’m jittery as I close the distance to the doors of the clubhouse. I didn’t get nearly enough time with my woman this morning and she looked so fucking tired when she headed off to work. I have one of the Prospects watching over her today, just in case, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about her.

Hell, I might be worried about her more because I’m not the one there to protect her.

Life is fragile and precious. I know that all too well.

I’ve lost far too many people in my life as it is. I don’t know if I would survive it if something were to happen and Sioux is taken away from me.

That’s why I wrapped my arms around my woman this morning and tucked her against my chest while resting my chin on the top of her head. She yawned like an adorable, tired kitten. “I’m sorry I was home so late last night,” I murmured softly, wanting to protect the connection between us which felt both fragile and strong at the same time.

“Don’t Crosby,” her voice was firm, and she looked up at me, her blue eyes tired but brightening the longer she looked at me. “Don’t apologize. I could have tried to sleep, but I was too worried about you.” I opened my mouth to tell her that I was fine, but she shakes her head. “I trust you to do your job. I know you’re a force and take your role as enforcer seriously. I know you’re strong. But terrible things can still happen and I’m going to worry about you in these kinds of situations.”

I felt what was hidden within her words—she was telling me just how much she cares for me. Because the worry she felt for me and the not knowing wouldn’t allow her to sleep. If she didn’t care, I would have come home to find her sleeping soundly.

I might not have liked it because I hated seeing the circles under her eyes, but my heart still soared because of the reason behind them.

“I should have tucked you into bed right away,” I insisted, remorse lacing through my words.

Sioux arched an eyebrow, “Are you saying you wish we didn’t shower together? Or fuck?”

I felt the blood drain from my face and my mouth dropped open. I had no fucking idea what to say to my woman. Because the last thing I regretted or wanted to change was our time together.

I loved the way her hands ran over my body as she washed the grime of the night off me. Being buried inside of her was even better than I remembered. To top it all off, she fell asleep in my arms, my cock still buried inside of her until I slipped free, turned us on our sides, and wrapped my body around her.

“Hell no,” I barked and the smug smile on my woman’s face told me I played right into her hand. “Fine,” I sighed, “point made.”

After holding her for a few more moments, I had to let her go. I didn’t like it and from the look on Sioux’s face, she didn’t either. I kissed her lips, needing her taste to give me the strength to get through the day ahead of me.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll keep my phone on today.” I started to shake my head and was about to protest, but her eyes turned to steel. “I’m serious, Crosby. You need me, you call me.”

“Fuck,” I breathed out, pulling her back to my chest and burying my face in the crook of her neck. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I don’t think I can ever express how grateful I am. You’re amazing.”

When I let her go, she grinned up at me and winked. “You’re amazing as well, Crosby. Don’t you forget it,” she gave me a stern look before kissing me again and heading to work.

As I pull the door open to the clubhouse, I shake my head to dispel thoughts of my woman. I need to focus. There is a lot to go over today and if my head isn’t in the game then the day will only end up being longer.

I step into the common room to find a few of the women we rescued last night sitting around the room in various places. Some are picking at plates of food in front of them and others are cowering in the corners of the couch. The air in the room is sad and tense.

Cherise comes bustling into the room from the kitchen with more plates of food and I can only shake my head. She offers it to the girl who Feral had in his arms last night and my heart clenches painfully.

When her eyes meet mine, I give her a soft smile. She returns it, but I can see the pain in her eyes. With a nod of her head toward Lucifer’s office, she focuses back on the girl who is staring at the plate in front of her with awe.

Cherise sits down in the chair next to the girl and starts to talk in a low voice. I’m too far away to hear them, but I can only hope that Cherise is able to get her to open up. Even if it’s only a little bit, it would help us out immensely.

Turning toward Lucifer’s office, I can’t take a step because the woman I carried out of the house last night is standing in front of me. Her eyes are clearer and widen as her gaze moves over my shoulders. There’s an uncertainty in her eyes when she meets my gaze.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and tentative. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me last night.” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I was not at my best last night,” shame fills her words.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “No one here is going to judge you. We just want to help you.”

A small smile forms on her lips and I find that I’m happy to see it. It gives me some hope as I try and ignore the oppressive sadness swirling around the room.

Unsure if anyone else has asked, I prod, “What’s your name?”

Her smile widens and she sticks her hand out into the space between us, her eyes brightening. “I’m Tara.” Suddenly, she looks unsure again after I shake her hand and then let it drop between us. “I hadn’t been there long, you know, and I only used a few times.”

There’s an urgency in her voice like she’s desperate for me to believe her. The thing is, though, she doesn’t have to convince anyone.

It’s none of our business. All we want is to make sure that those who need help get it and have the chance to live the life they want.

She’s already looking much better which leads me to believe that she’s telling the truth about only using a few times. It’s clear that she’s had the chance to take a shower and put on some clean clothes. That has to feel pretty fucking good already.

What hadn’t changed is the vacant look in her eyes. It’s like she’s not all there behind the veil. I have no doubt because, in part, of the drugs. Or maybe part of her is still disassociating from everything she experienced.

“And you’re Apostle, right?”

Instead of narrowing my eyes at her, which would be my normal reaction, I keep facial features frozen in a neutral mask. It’s worked well for me in the past. And I don’t think pushing her away will help her right now.

She’s in need of support and understanding.

“Yeah,” I grunt, “I’m Apostle.

Before I know what is happening, her hands are wrapped around my bicep and she’s practically clinging to me. I clench my jaw, fighting against the instinct to shake her off.

I hate her touch, but she needs to trust someone around here and I’m the one who rescued her. It makes sense that she would try and cling to me because of that.

“Thank you so much, Apostle,” she gushes.

I swear she pouts a little in some attempt to make her lips look more luscious. Before I roar at her and tell her not to touch me, I have to remind myself that she has no idea I have an old lady at home.

I shake my arm a little, but she doesn’t take the hint. My eyes dart around the room wildly, looking for anyone who might be able to help me out of this. The longer Tara is touching me, the more my skin crawls at the contact.

With a harder shake, I try to dislodge her grip. But the woman won’t budge.

The moment Cherise comes back out to the common room from the kitchen, she notices the pleading look I’m sending her way. She approaches us slowly and with caution and I’m not sure if it’s because of me or the girl who is acting like a leech’s best friend.

I need her to stop touching me. The longer she does it, the angrier I’m getting.

But at the same time, I can understand her actions. I’m the one who carried her to safety last night and killed the man who was using her like she wasn’t even a human being. No one should have to endure that kind of treatment.

My hero.

Her words from last night echo in my head. I want to shrink away from them. Because they aren’t true. I was only doing the right thing and I would do it again.

I’m not a fucking hero. I was just the muscle, and she was just a victim in the path that we needed to take for vengeance. Anyone could have been the one in that room. Or it could have been empty.

“Tara,” Cherise’s voice is gentle, “I think Apostle is late for a meeting with the Prez.”

I kept my voice gentle, “I am. You should get some more rest.” The hopeful look in Tara’s eyes had me wondering what Sioux would do in this situation and what she would want me to do. My kind Firefly, who had tears in her eyes last night when I told her about the drug house and the forced prostitution had me strengthening my resolve. “I’ll come and check on you afterward, okay?”

Tara started nodding her head enthusiastically and giving me a bright smile, one that I found myself returning. When I shot Cherise a grateful look, the sharp one she gave me in return had me confused. She didn’t look happy, but I didn’t have the time to unravel it right now.

I gave both women a chin lift before turning around and heading toward Lucifer’s office. I’m sure I’m the last one to arrive. Again.

“He’s so fucking hot,” I could have sworn I heard Tara say, but I wasn’t close and could have heard wrong.

The thought of her being attracted to me had the hair on the back of my neck standing on edge and not in a good way. I would never go there. Not when I just got Sioux to open her heart to me after I’ve been patient for so damn long.

Nothing will get in the way of the future I’m supposed to have with my woman. Still, I can be a source of support for Tara. At least until we figure out what her next steps should be. It’s possible she has a family out there who could be better to help her through this.

When I enter Lucifer’s office, his head snaps up and I can see the bone-deep exhaustion written all over his face. Hacker is in the corner staring intently at his tablet and the rest of the inner circle are slumped down in various seats.

The weight of what we did last night as well as what is still in front of us is suddenly heavy on my shoulders and I slump. Instead of taking up my normal position by the door, I choose a seat and let out a grunt as I sit. No one says anything or seems all that surprised.

“We should probably move this into Church to have more room,” Lucifer muses.

“Yeah,” Hacker adds offhandedly, “then I can hook up what I’ve found to the TVs and show everyone at the same time.”

He stands and starts moving toward the door, not bothering to notice if anyone is following him. I’m not surprised, Hacker can be very driven, and laser focused when he’s buried himself in a specific task. Tack watches our brother leave the room and huffs out a sound of displeasure.

“He’s not taking care of himself. I had to wrestle him for that damn tablet this morning so he would eat something,” Tack complains.

A chuckle starts to work its way up my throat, but I swallow it down. This is the dynamic they’ve had for as long as I’ve known them. Tack and Hacker are opposites in so many ways, but that is also what makes them a good team. There is a sense of balance between them.

When Hacker is deep in a hole with his work, Tack is there to watch out for him and make sure he’s taken care of in some of the most basic ways. When Hacker is hyper focused, he won’t sleep, driven by the need to complete the task he’s been given or uncovering all the information he’s looking for.

It’s something that makes Hacker damn good at what he does, but that also means other things suffer. Tack has his back and makes sure that doesn’t happen.

“Last night was tough. He needed to help the first woman we found, and that shit was hard to see,” I give my brother some grace and understanding.

Tack’s face turns to stone, and he gives a curt nod. When I look around the room, I notice that we all seem to be haunted by what we saw last night. It’s not the first time we’ve seen horrible things, but for some reason it is hitting us differently this time.

The Seattle chapter of the DSMC has a lot of experience with taking down human trafficking rings. I’m sure they’ve seen things very similar to what we did last night. How do they cope with it? What is the price they’ve paid with their souls?

With Dante Guidice’s hold on New Orleans, human trafficking isn’t nonexistent, but it’s something he takes care of swiftly and decisively. The club has supported him in his efforts, but there’s a detachment when we do. It’s not our sole mission or objective. We are there as backup instead of being the men who go in and see the worst the world has to offer on display.

We’re silent as we stand and make our way into Church. Hacker is already there in his chair around the table with his tablet plugged in. The way his eyebrows are furrowed, it’s clear he’s concentrating hard on whatever is on the screen in front of him.

We take our seats around the table and wait. My gaze snags on the devil’s skull burned into the middle of the table. It’s a symbol of our club, of our loyalty.

A wave of pure gratefulness washes over me. Because I know who I am and where I belong. The females we rescued last night are lost. My brothers would never allow me to become lost like they are. Honestly, they probably would have kicked my ass long before things went so far.

And I would have, eventually, been glad they did.

Lucifer sighs, “Three of the women we rescued last night have already been taken to facilities that can deal with acute withdrawal symptoms. They were not doing well when we took them in, but we’re not equipped to deal with people detoxing like that. They need medical professionals, not rough bikers,” he tries to lighten the mood in the room, but it falls flat.

Probably because of how fucking true it is.

We might have gotten them out of a horrible situation, but that doesn’t mean we are capable of anything more. I hope we are; I have faith in my brothers that we sure as fuck will try, but we also know our limitations.

“Before Hacker gives us the rundown on who we’re helping, lets walk through what happened last night.”

I nod and share a look with Scythe. He gives me a chin lift and I know that he did his job last night. He protected our Prez who was leading the rest of our brothers inside the back of the house. We didn’t get the chance to debrief last night, but my club brothers all walked out of that shit hole unscathed.

I’m calling it a success. Well, at least as much of one as I can.

Lucifer’s eyes bore into me, and I lean forward while resting my forearms on the table in front of me. My voice is cold and detached as I walk him through breaching the front of the house. If I focus too much on it then I’ll be right back there. I’m not entirely sure the stench of the place—body odor, urine, and hopelessness—isn’t clinging to me still.

Sioux’s face swims through my mind and calms me. She bathed me last night so that I could shed the stench and find my footing again. She helped me. She guided me.

And then she helped me to forget.

When I’m done, I look at Prodigal to see if he has anything to add, but he just shakes his head and looks toward his father. Lucifer is nodding his head slowly.

“The girl Feral carried out hasn’t said a word,” he speaks so softly that I strain to hear him. There’s a desolation in his words that feels like a knife twisting in my gut.

“Cherise was talking to her when I came in today,” I offer gently, hoping that it’ll help him, and the rest of us, cope.

Lucifer’s mouth tips up in a rare smile. Usually, it’s only his old lady and his children that earn such a smile from him. And I see that hasn’t changed.

“She’ll work her magic,” he sounds sure, but the uncertainty in his eyes tells a different story.

From the looks on the faces of all my brothers, we’re collectively hoping that she can. That we can reach the girl whose life will always be tainted by this trauma. That we can help her find a way forward toward the warmth of the sun instead of her hiding in the shadows of the darkness of her experience.