Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (2 page)

Ace

CHERRY AND I have been back from Ohio for two weeks. During this time, I’ve not let her out of my sight, whatsoever. Cherry’s past is haunted, and right now, she can’t afford to risk any unnecessary, damning exposure that would cause her to lose progress in any way. I promised our friends at Peril that I’d take care of her, and this is what I’m doing. I’m keeping her safe, whether it’s in a manner she finds agreeable or not.

So far, she’s stayed clean. Cherry isn’t a drug addict; however, she uses them as an escape. There are triggers that aim for her, so at any time her using could turn into an addiction. Luckily, my friends and family don’t use, and I don’t tolerate it, so barring any mishap on her end, I trust she’s going to be fine.

Tonight, I’m taking her to The Ward, a bar downtown where my friends and I hang out. Together they have a band that sets up every Friday night and they play from nine to midnight. The Ward isn’t a bar that I look forward to taking Cherry into, though. It’s inevitable, by her appearance alone, that she’s going to end up being a target for every man, taken or not, and she’s doing this without knowing it.

Unfortunately, I’ve realized this too late. I’m in my truck waiting for her to finish getting ready, and as I look up the stairs to my apartment, there she is, every single mouthwatering inch of her
.

She’s wearing a tight, white, button-down blouse that shows off her navel, displaying her cherry jewel piercing with it. She has on an even-tighter black skirt that hugs her hips, and to bottom out her already-sexy-as-fuck ensemble are a pair of bright red fuck-me heels.

Is she trying to kill me with this bullshit?

Knowing I’m not exactly level-headed when it comes to anyone that I give a shit about being ogled, the way men will ogle at her in that outfit, I reign in my emotion long enough to express my thought.

Hopping down and out of my beat-up red truck, I walk toward her and bellow loud enough so she understands my words, their tone, and what I want her to do with them.

“What the fuckin’ hell are you wearin’, Cherry?”

She stops mid-step near the bottom of the wooden staircase, looking surprised. Her head lifts and she aims her glare directly at me. “What are you talking about?”

“No fuckin’ way.” Pointing above her to the apartment door, I continue. “Get back in there and put somethin’ else on. You’re not leaving here lookin’ like that.”

She’s pissed, and with her snarky tone and attitude, she grabs the side of her skirt as if explaining to me what I’ve missed. “It’s a
skirt
, Ace. It’s cute, and I just bought it today when Sarah and I were at the mall.”

“It would fit
Sarah
. It doesn’t fuckin’ fit you,
Cherry
. Go change. We leave in five.”

She starts to say something in her defense, so I quickly send her a glare and luckily manage to hear only a few of her words of contempt for me. “God, Ace. You’re worse than my father
ever
was.”

“Woman, do it,” I yell as I turn my back on her and walk back to the driver’s side of my truck.

Slamming the door after climbing back into it, I watch as Cherry stands still, her eyes burrowing into mine with challenge. Through the broken windshield, we engage in a momentary stare-down that ends with her flippin’ me her middle finger before turning around and marching back into the house to change.

Fuck that skirt and those goddamn tanned, toned legs that stand under it.

As I sit waiting for Cherry to come back, my mind wanders to a place I find easy and comfortable - Sadey. My life without her in it feels empty. I’m left to suffer in grief knowing she’s happy, healthy, and most-assuredly, she’s loved. I should be
relieved
to know she’ll spend her days being cared for and adored by a strong man worthy of her, but I’m not; instead, I’m drowning in my own self-pity and self-sorrow. No matter what I do to fill the days that pass, my heart aches for her.

Sadey has a beautiful, vibrant, and caring soul. Her heart holds so much love for those that matter to her that it’s evident in everything she does. She laughs at herself and doesn’t mind others laughing at her. The woman is gorgeous even when she cries, which is something she’s famous for. Wearing her heart on her sleeve, Sadey doesn’t hold back any emotion, never hiding behind a mask for anyone. This is the kind of purity I had never known in my life until I met her and still fear I’ll never know something so great again.

The day I met Sadey, I was one of the newest members to join Peril. I was referred to as a prospect. There were a series of events that any new person had to go through in order to become an equal member of the motorcycle club. At the time, I was going through these challenges one by one. I was also an asshole.

I remember I was sitting on a bar stool, that at the time I liked to refer to as my own, having a beer with another prospect, Gunner. Sadey had just walked in with her best friend, Mace. They were laughing at whatever women laugh at so hysterically. Once Sadey caught me staring at her, she tilted her head, smiled, and walked toward me without any hesitation.

* * *

Her hair was the color of the sun, I thought, red and gold. She smelled of summer, fresh and clean. Her voice, so soft and gentle, was new to me. I was taken. My heart immediately gave itself to her within moments of our first words.

“Hi. I haven’t met you yet, have I?”
She had asked through a shy grin.

“No, I don’t think so.”
I was hesitant. I had no idea who the woman was. She didn’t look like anyone there. She didn’t belong there, not in the company of men like me, anyway.

Before she left me further confused, she told me who she was and it was then that at least some of the pieces came together.
“I’m Sadey Lyons. That’s my best friend Mace Cash over here.”
She pointed to a door near the stairs where I found Mace talking to another brother, and the motorcycle club’s Vice President, Shame.
“She’s Hem’s little sister.”

I nodded, finally understanding why women of this stature would’ve had business in being there. They were relations, therefore protected and held above all others with respect and care. Nervously, I offered a small greeting.
“Hey.”

Her small shoulders shrugged quickly for emphasis, and she offered me a bigger smile than the one before. Her tiny dimples amplified on each cheek.
“Hi.”

“So, how long have you known Shame and Hem?”
My instinct, an instinct I had never felt for or about anyone else, was to protect her. Her innocence shouldn’t be tainted by those in the room. These men shouldn’t be given the right to look at her. Thankfully, the place was almost empty, and even Gunner had excused himself from his place next to me at the bar.

“I told you, Hem is Mace’s brother, and Shame is Hem’s best friend and well, we all kinda grew up together. I’ve known them all since I was five.”
The way she talked about them, so fluent and familiar, made me wonder if Hem and Shame understood how lucky they were to have always known her.

* * *

After that day, I found myself searching for Sadey at every turn. Club dinners, events, parties, wherever there was a chance she’d be there, I was sure to be, as well. Often, she didn’t talk to me as she was too caught up in her quest to make Hem see her as a woman so she could become his girl. I thought it was just another sense of sweet that was Sadey – a child’s crush, nothing more.

My mind is brought back to the present as Cherry climbs into the truck, dressed in
slightly
less-provocative attire, I explain a few things to her about my past that only few are aware of. “My friends are the same friends I’ve had since the seventh grade. You’ll probably be inspected, harassed, and question my sanity before the end of the night. I can assure you, though, they’re good people; they won’t hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” She’s annoyed. Before I can reply, she mumbles, “Fine.” She’s pouting at me, arms held tight around her waist in a defiant pose.

Reaching over, I nudge her knee with my fist. I attempt to garner the attention she’s only giving to the outside world as it passes by through the window.

Fail.

She’s
really
pissed. “Hey, woman. Lighten up. I never said you looked bad, but you can’t wear that shit to The Ward. It’s a bar, Cherry. We’re not in Ohio and we aren’t with the brothers.”

The anger her tone carries in the small confines of the truck causes me to wince. “Ace, I was with the brothers in Ohio when I was taken by Greyson, remember? Pretty sure I can handle your ‘friends’ without your protection.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I just…” I don’t know what.

Her voice softens. “It’s okay. You’re making me nervous, though, so just let it go how it goes, okay? I’ll tell you if I need something.” She sighs, turning back to the window and looking at the passing cars and highways. “I’m glad to be out of the house, Ace. I’m pretty sure, from what you’ve told me, your friends are going to be entertaining.”

“Yeah, well, you stay close. Bringing you in there, looking like that…” I gesture to her tight, red tank top, tighter ripped cut-off shorts, and high-heel sandals, “the sharks are going to swarm, and I’m just one man.”

She laughs at the compliment, but it has to be said again and again: Cherry is
beautiful
.

Christ, not beautiful, she’s fuckin’ hot.

As a man, I’m allowed to look with admiration. As a friend, I’m not allowed to ogle. Her dark hair, near black in color, falls past her shoulders. Her eyes, being the darkest blue, can only be compared to the ocean’s deepest depth. In addition, that fuckin’ tight body she has, although short in stature, is framed to perfection, coupled with a challenging and defiant attitude. It’s enough to send my head spinning on a daily basis. I’m not oblivious to her, but that said, it’s also completely different for someone like me who only wants to protect her from ever having to relive the events of her past.

Cherry was a motorcycle club whore. This means she decided to make herself sexually available to any man who wore the Lights of Peril club colors. Her body was used for sex, and she offered it in turn for a place to belong. Club whores weren’t members, so they weren’t loved or protected. They lingered at the bottom of the club’s population, but in a sense, they were still accepted. Cherry was sweet, honest, and caring, and I never believed that was where she belonged.

Because of her decision to affiliate herself with a motorcycle club, the dangers of doing so were carried with it. Cherry is a victim of rape. I’m in no way trying to make her feel less beautiful because of this, but fuck if I’m going to allow her to parade around in a place like The Ward without some goddamn clothes on.

Christ, the woman is going to get me killed or just off me herself.

“You’re not thinking about following me around all night, are you?”

“Yep,” I answer, leaving no room for negotiation or doubt.

“You goin’ to go to the ladies room with me when I have to go?”

“There’s a door, right? I’ll stand behind it.” If it keeps her safe, I see no issue.

Rolling her eyes and giving me a disgusted sigh, she turns toward the window while saying, “You’re impossible.”

“And, you’re naive.”

My feelings for Cherry are these: She’s tries to be a good person, but she hasn’t been loved enough from anyone in her entire twenty-one years to show her how the bad decisions she’s made have affected those that love her. Although I’m not about to make it my mission to change this, I’m also not about to let her go out on her own and get hurt again.

Cherry and I have had sex multiple times throughout our relationship. She made herself available to me without question or commitment during a time when I was trying to prove to myself that my feelings for Sadey were merely a product of loneliness and they would pass. I spent my days fucking random club whores to fill a void I now realize could never be filled.

I’ll admit I’m only
cautiously
optimistic for her future. Cherry hasn’t led a good life. In comparison between the two of us, I’ve seen less tragedy in my years than she has. One thing I need to remember is to take care of her with kid gloves. Cherry uses drugs as an escape, a means to forgetting her tragic past, but she’s promised to stay clean and work hard to prove she can be a good parent.

I’m proud of her for not assuming that, right now, she’s any kind of parental material. She loves her son Decklan enough to keep him away from her until she’s well enough to be what he deserves.

Making our way through traffic, my mind drifts once again to the past. After initially meeting Sadey, my feelings for her grew. Without knowing how she felt about me, I kept how I felt hidden from her and others. Eventually, she and I took our friendship another step: I kissed her and she kissed me back. Even though it wasn’t the emotional tie that holds couples together, she made me feel important. I mattered to her.

* * *

“You’re a good person, Ace.”
She said this to me as we were hanging out in my room at the clubhouse. She was perfect. I should have told her how I was starting to feel about her; maybe it would have mattered and changed the course of what was to come.

“I’m fuckin’ up. Hem’s gonna kick my ass out of here soon.”

She laughed and rested her hand on my chest gently.
“He won’t. I’ll handle Hem. His heart is bigger than his brain and he may be upset right now, but he won’t let you fail if he thinks you belong here.”

Her voice, her smile, her ability to accept people for who they were – that’s what drew me to her.
“You don’t belong in this place, bug.”

“Bug?”
She questioned the nickname I had given her. It wasn’t something I contemplated over. It had just come to me in that moment and stuck.

I leaned in and kissed her again. She wrapped her fingers around my neck, pulling me into her gently, waiting for the explanation. I gave her the only one I could come up with at the time.
“Bug. As in… cute as a…”

Of course, being Sadey, she took it the only way she could have: literally. Laying her head back down on my pillow, she announced to us both in surprise,
“Oh, God, I’m an insect.”