Devil (Savage MC--Tennessee 1)

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been some new developments at the club. Your father…”

“Is something wrong with my dad?” I ask, and I don’t keep the terror out of my voice—I can’t.

“He’s fine, Torrent. I promise you, but we had to take him underground.”

“Underground? What does that even mean? I want to see him, Wolf.”

“Torrent—”

“I mean it. Either you come and get me or I’ll come to you. I don’t give a damn.”

“I’ll arrange it. It will take a me a couple of days to arrange it and make it safe for you.”

“But…”

“Your dad is fine, Torrent. I promise you. But you have to help him right now and you have to do that by keeping yourself safe.”

“You promise me that he’s okay?”

“I promise. Give me two days.”

“One.”

“Damn it, Torrent—”

“One day, Wolf. Then I’m out of here, either with your help or without it,” I warn him and I hang up before he can respond.

I walk out of the office and find Sister Victoria in the hall, waiting for me, her sullen face searching mine.

“Is everything okay?”

“My father has taken ill. I may need to go to him immediately.”

“I—”

“I already know the rules, Sister Victoria, but my father is all I have left in this world and if he needs me, I’m going to be by his side and no one will stop me—not even God.”

Shock moves across her face and I see it right before I turn away.

I march straight to my room and start packing. I’m not giving Wolf time either. I’m leaving this damn place tonight. I need to know what’s going on with my father and I can’t trust any of his men to get to the bottom of this. The club my father loved, the club I grew up surrounded and adored by, has turned into a nest of vipers. I can’t help my father by hiding away, that much is clear. I’ve given up too much to sit on my hands and lose my father too.

It’s time I remember I have my old man’s blood running in my veins. If we can’t trust his men to put an end to this, then by God I will. I’m not helpless. I can find things out and maybe Logan would be willing to help if he knew the truth. He might be pissed that I was lying to him at first, but he’s no stranger to our world. He’d understand. I sigh because my heart aches even thinking about Logan. I hated walking away from him. He’s come to mean a lot to me in such a short time. Maybe it will never go anywhere, but I wanted the chance to find out.

I zip up my duffle bag after tossing in the few items I have left that are mine. Then, I throw on my jeans and T-shirt that I showed up here in. I always feel better in my own clothes. I sit down on the bed and lace up my boots and head out.

Luckily Sister Victoria didn’t follow me, or alert anyone else. The place is deserted. Still, I walk as quietly as I can and only breathe when I get to the entrance. I undo the deadbolts on the double doors and open one just enough to slide out. I keep my front facing the inside of the convent, my back out to the sidewalk as I do my best to make sure no one inside sees me. Turns out that is my biggest mistake. Because before I can so much as scream a large gloved hand is clapped over my mouth and I’m pulled away.

I fight.

I truly do.

I kick, I hit, and I try to slam my head backwards into my abductor. Nothing works. I twist, trying to get to my side so I can aim my kicks better, but the man holding me—and I’m sure he’s a man; his grip is too solid and hard, and squeezes even tighter. I’m afraid he’s going to crush my bones. I reach behind me and my hand hits skin and I dig my nails into the meaty flesh. I hear the man scream and I know a moment of victory before blinding pain thrums through me as I’m hit hard on the side of my head.

Pain explodes, my vision goes white, gray and then bleeds into a dull blur before I sink to my knees and the world goes completely black.Devil“Can I help you?”

I look around the inside of the chapel and shift uneasily. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been inside any church—much less a convent. The walls are stark white, the floors wood that’s so old it’s almost black in color and the trim has been painted the same coal black. This room looks so barren, so devoid of anything warm and inviting that I don’t know how Torrent could survive here. I look up to the front of the chapel and it’s different from the rest of the room. There’s a statue of the Virgin Mary, rows of candles and a sacrament table. The bright reds used to add color shine vividly, drawing my attention. I force myself to look away.