Page 37 of Devil’s Torture

“The club would like to have a family day to welcome you and Dawn,” he said it without warning, like he wanted to catch me at my softest.

Smart man.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I protested softly even though I didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m not asking you to forgive the club. I’m not even asking you to have a good time.” His voice drops an octave, “I’m just asking you to think about giving it a try. If you say yes and then want to leave without even going through the gates, no one will hold it against you, least of all me.”

My shoulders relaxed and I nodded. It was the only thing I could offer him right then. I didn’t say yes right away, but the more I thought about it, the more curious I was.

It helped that Rune didn’t pressure me. He asked and then he waited for my answer.

It didn’t take me long to say yes and when I did, he smiled with a light in it which I felt my own soul answer.

Dawn has been excited ever since. Rune has been as well, but it’s tempered with a wariness in his eyes as he watches me. Honestly, he’s been watching me too closely every time I’m around him for the last week.

As we pull up to the clubhouse, I realize it doesn’t look all that different. It’s not exactly the same either. My eyes travel over the building and, somehow, it feels right to be here. I never thought I’d feel that way, and it’s more than a little strange.

Rune opens the door for Dawn before opening mine and offering me his hand. His eyes go to my shoulders, and I can see the disappointment flash on his face before he hides it. It’s the same look he gave me when he came to pick me up.

And I know why.

I’m not wearing my cut even though I still have it. I could never bring myself to throw it away. It felt too precious, too important.

Even if I didn’t necessarily believe in the loyalty and family it represented.

Rune noticed that I didn’t wear it. I almost expected him to ask about it and whether or not I still have it, but he didn’t. He simply took it in and accepted it.

This time, as he looks at me and what I’m not wearing, I can’t help but tell him, “I still have it.” I swallow hard as his blue eyes study me. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away or return it to the club. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to wear it, but you should know I still have it.”

Rune steps closer to me and it feels like his frame blocks out the entire world. His voice drops an octave, “I’m glad, Bex. It’s yours. It’ll always be yours. When you’re ready to wear it again, when you’re really all mine again, put it back on.”

A lump forms in my throat and it’s difficult to swallow past it. I have no idea why my eyes are stinging, but they are. Before the first tear can fall, Rune steps back and I’m able to collect myself. Just in time for Dawn to grab our hands and start tugging us toward the door.

“Come on. You two are so slow,” she chastises us with laughter in her voice.

The moment we step inside the main room of the clubhouse, I feel like an animal in a zoo exhibit.

Everyone’s eyes turn toward me with varying expressions. Most people are curious. There are even some faces filled with excitement. Other faces are open, waiting.

I want to shift from foot to foot, but I force myself to stay still. Before it grows too awkward, the clapping begins. The sound grows and is joined by cheering and shouts of welcoming joy. When I almost stumble back, surprised and a little jolted, Rune is right there. He wraps an arm around my waist and steadies me.

As much as part of me wants to step away from him, I don’t. I can’t.

He’s too warm.

This feels too right.

“As some of you know, this is Bexley,” Rune projects his voice and people cheer even louder. I can hear what he doesn’t say—I’m his Old Lady. It’s heavily implied in the pause. “And this is my nine-year-old daughter, Dawn.”

The cheering becomes almost deafening, and Dawn is over there with a huge smile on her face while she laps up all the attention. I wouldn’t mind crawling into a dark hole, but I force myself to stand still.

When everyone seems to step forward at once and swarms us with welcomes, hugs, handshakes, and warm smiles, I can’t help but laugh slightly. I was expecting to feel some of the old anger. It’s there, but it’s not as bright anymore and is easy to ignore.

Huh. Honestly, it surprises me to find I don’t want to cut everyone down that is part of the club anymore.

Then I see Lucifer standing at the edge of the group and my anger flares again. Maybe because he was the one I talked to that night. When our eyes meet, shame passes over his features. I blink and it’s gone, but I know what I saw and it’s more than a little disarming.

As people make their way back to the tables, couches, and pool tables, Lucifer steps forward. He drops his voice and there is a note of pleading in it, “Can I have a moment of your time?”