Page 31 of Devil’s Torture

“Looks like the angels are already looking you over,” he teases me.

“Not interested,” I growl the words and glare at the woman. I don’t know her name; I don’t need to know. “Bex is the only woman for me.”

“Is she going to forgive you?” He’s looking at me curiously, but there’s a knowing there like he had to fight his own battle for his Old Lady. I don’t know his story, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it sooner or later considering I’m not going anywhere.

“Whether she does or not doesn’t change a damn thing,” I admit with a shrug before finishing off my beer.

He nods once and something thoughtful crosses his face. “Are you thinking about work?” When I arch an eyebrow, he huffs slightly. “I’m not asking this to rush you, but I know having some kind of purpose and routine helped when I came back.”

“Before I left, I was working construction for the club,” I remind him.

Fuck, it was so long ago, I’d almost forgotten.

He nods thoughtfully. “How would you feel about using the skills you’ve honed over the last ten years?”

I’m not surprised he knows the kind of work I’ve been doing for the club. As VP, Lucifer would have informed him. When it comes to the officers, there aren’t many, if any, secrets. It’s better that way.

Still, his question catches me a little off guard.

“Not the same kind of jobs,” he explains. “We’ve been talking around the table about using the Seattle chapter’s security firm model and opening our own branch.”

“I went through Seattle more than once.”

What I don’t mention is that a port like that is a fucking cesspool of sick fucks. More than once is an understatement.

“We could use someone who isn’t going to flinch when it matters.”

I look at Prodigal for a long time. Maybe this is an opportunity for me to find a place here. A real one. One that will allow me to tend to the roots I left behind.

Still, I’m not quite ready to agree to anything just yet.

“I’ll consider it.” It’s the best I can offer him right now.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended and simply nods like he expected that answer. “You have a lot going on right now and first you need to get things square with your woman and your kid.”

“Yeah, I fucking do,” I grumble.

It’s not easy pushing away the feelings of frustration which make me want to storm over to Bexley’s place and demand her forgiveness. But it’s not something I can demand; I’m not even sure I have the right to ask for it or earn it.

That doesn’t mean I won’t try.

We sit in silence for a long time, but it’s not awkward. I watch a few brothers interacting and it feels far away, like I’m watching the show instead of being a part of it. The detachment is the same as I felt when I would visit other chapters.

It’s strange to feel it in the clubhouse that I always thought of as home, even though I wasn’t patched in very long before I was sent out as a nomad. When I was out there, it was a beacon.

Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what it is.

It’s almost like it doesn’t fit quite right.

Maybe the feeling will settle. I’m just not sure how long it’ll take considering I was gone so long.

“You feel a certain way about the club,” Prodigal says it like it’s not a slap to the face of the brotherhood. When I look at him, he shoots me a look. “I can’t exactly blame you. Ten years is a long time. I won’t say anything about the way it was handled because it’s not my place and wouldn’t make a difference, but I can understand it being difficult to swallow.” His voice goes soft as he adds, “Especially now.”

He doesn’t have to explain that he’s referring to Dawn.

Guilt sits heavy on my chest.

“I could have fought harder to stay. I could have reached out to Bex, but I never did,” the remorse in my voice is easy to hear. “The club isn’t solely to blame.”