Devil's Saints MC: Savior

Delilah Steger

“Lila!” Serge nearly screamed across the dance floor when he spotted me

I met his blinding smile with a grin of my own, so happy to be out with him tonight. He’d been trying to get together for months, but that wasn’t okay with Craig. And I didn’t want Craig angry.

“Hey, lovie!” I replied, hugging Serge tightly

Sergio Montevideo. My only remaining friend and dance partner from my former life. He hated how much control Craig had over me (he didn’t know the half of it) and wanted better for me. But despite everything, he was the only one who stuck by me. We were at the smallest club in town, somewhere I knew Craig and his MC buddies wouldn’t be, to dance and let loose - something I hadn’t done in a long-ass time.

I lost my parents when I was 17 after a drunk driver mowed them down on the sidewalk. I had been at a prestigious dance academy - a boarding school for gifted kids - when they passed. After they were gone I didn’t have anything, let alone the funds to continue school. I ended up getting my GED and waitressing full time just to make ends meet, and by the time I turned 18 I was exhausted, with no real prospects, no funds for college - just lost.

I met Craig at the diner I worked at, he seemed nice enough at first - very flirty. I knew he was older than me - 26 at the time - and that I was playing with fire, but I was so gaga over him then that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. A monster in a leather cut.

The music in the club reverberated off the walls and calmed my soul. It had been too long since I’d been to a club - for salsa night no less - and even longer since I’d last danced with Serge.

“C’mon Chica! I’m dying over here! Let’s bust a move before all the good spots on the floor are taken.” Serge yelled to me

He took my hand in his and lead the way through the throng of people surrounding the sunken dance floor in the center of the club. The speakers blasted Pitbull’s Piensas (Dile la Verdad), and I suddenly felt so at peace. The beat filled my being, Serge and I moved as one - grinding, twirling, and dipping our way through the song. It was easily the most fun I’d had and the freest I’d felt in years.

As the next song started playing, I felt someone watching me. Not in a bad way per se, but I could feel their gaze almost as though they’d reached out and touched me. I scanned the area around us but didn’t see anyone. I shrugged it off and kept dancing, determined to wring as much enjoyment from tonight as possible. I knew Craig was at home, passed out drunk on the living room floor, so I didn’t have to worry about him tonight.

About half an hour later Serge and I decided to stop, sit and get a drink. I still felt as though someone was watching me. As we got back to our table I looked around again but still couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.

“Girl!” Serge said snapping me from my search, “You okay?”

All I could do was nod. What was I even supposed to tell him? That I thought someone was watching me? Yikes.

“So,” Serge said after a sip of his drink, “why even keep that thing if you aren’t going to wear it and aren’t sure you even still want to marry him? Just dump him and find someone that’s actually worthy of you.” he was gesturing to the engagement ring Craig gave me that I now wore on a chain around my neck instead of on my finger.

Even I could admit that Serge had a point. What if I did leave? Where would I go? Ha. Did it even matter at this point? I didn’t want to marry Craig, that much I knew, but he had me trapped with no way out and minimal contact with the outside world aside from work - a job he forced me to do. The only way Serge and I could stay in touch was via a private Facebook account that I could only access when I was home alone if Craig left his laptop there (which wasn't often).

“I don’t know Serge.” I sighed, “We’ve been together for so long, I think he still cares for me - I wouldn’t want to upset him.”

“Girl, what you just said right there, that’s messed up. I know you’re not happy. I can see it in your eyes. At this point honey, you need to just do you.” Serge said smacking his drink down on the table to emphasize his point.

I just shook my head, and he knew we were done with the topic for now. A few minutes later we ended up out on the dance floor again, Pitbull’s Fireball blaring through the speakers. I could feel myself genuinely smiling and throwing my hair around freely. I imagine I must have been quite the sight.

A little while later we were almost to the end of the song. I was facing Serge, fully immersed in our movements, when a large rough hand wrapped around my upper arm in a vice-like grip. I squeaked out a yelp and was forcefully moved away from Serge to find myself thrown back against the partition. I knew without meeting his eyes that it was Craig. My first thought, how did he find me, was quickly replaced by fear of the punishment I would receive. I quickly scrambled away before his fingers could attach themselves to my throat, which only made him angrier.

“You fucking bitch.” he sneered, blocking me in

I could hear Serge somewhere behind him, yelling to me to ask if I was okay and if he needed to call the cops. I didn’t have the chance to answer because Craig chose that moment to lunge for me. He reached out and managed to snag the chain from around my neck. With one hard pull, it snapped, sending the ring skittering across the floor. I could see Serge’s concerned expression, and knew that most of the dance floor was watching us, but I couldn’t make sense of it over the roaring white noise in my ears, the tears in my eyes, and the panic gripping my lungs.

“You think you can sneak out and I wouldn’t know!? You thought you could shake your ass for these fuckers for free!? You’re going to pay.” Craig seethed, hauling me towards the door by the back of my neck.

Just as we'd made it to the door I heard Craig grunt and the next thing I knew I was falling forward. Seconds later we were both on the floor surrounded by a bunch of guys wearing leather jackets and I could hear Serge somewhere in the background raising hell.

One of the guys offered me his hand. I looked up and up and up before I finally met his gaze. Something about those deep hazel eyes felt so familiar. He was so tall, way taller than Craig, with muscles so defined I could even see them through his jacket. His dark hair was shaggy on the top and shaved on the sides, his sharp jawline dusted with stubble. I could even catch a glimpse of tattoos peeking out from the neckline of his shirt - that was the first time I’d ever been that turned on. Several of the men with him started to haul Craig’s limp body away from me, and that’s when I felt myself snap back to reality.

I quickly accepted his hand and rose to my feet, only to be mauled by Serge seconds later.

“Axe! Dude, everything square?” one of the guys said to the man who helped me up

That broke the spell for him and he turned to talk to the others. Serge squeezed me tight, asked if I was okay, then told me he was going to grab our stuff and be right back.

Right then is when my fight or flight instinct kicked in, because even though I had no destination in mind, I ripped my shoes from my feet, threw the club door open, and ran down the street into the early morning twilight like a bat out of hell.