The Saints' Devil

XXX

Charlie watched as Drake, Cobra and Frank loaded themselves on their bikes and revved the engines, the metallic beasts roaring to life. 

"Keep an eye on him, Drake," she called, Drake smiling brightly and nodding his head.

"You got it boss lady," he said, throwing his helmet on and effortlessly putting his gloves on as well.

"I'll be back before you know it," Frank told her, looking her dead in the eye.

"You better," she said. "I'll be pissed if I have to come save your ass again." A wild smirk stretched on her face and he shook his head, smiling under his mask. "Ride safe guys."

"Keep an eye on her, Eagle," Frank called, zooming away with Drake and Cobra close behind him.

Charlie watched them ride away, she stood there and watched until she could no longer see them and still remained there. Eagle came over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

"He'll be alright," Eagle assured her. "This is the first time he's going on a run with someone. Well, besides with me but when he comes with me, he's more like my bodyguard," he commented, smiling sheepishly.

Charlie walked back into the garage, Eagle taking a slow seat in the back while she began to work on one of the boys' bikes. "What was he like...when he first came to the club?"

"Ah, you mean when I found him?" he asked and she nodded. "Well, it was a sight I'd never seen before, I was--what--forty-three or so at the time and I had never seen a twelve year-old like him before."

Charlie listened intently, occasionally stopping her work to look over at him. 

"That boy was skinny as all be. He had some raggedy old clothes on that were too loose and covered in mud and dirt. The one thing that just shook this old man to the core was that this little skinny boy was covered head-to-toe in tattoos," he said, Charlie suddenly seizing her movements. 

She looked over at him, her eyes suddenly wide with horror. "A twelve year-old covered in tattoos?" 

He nodded, those old eyes swirling with sadness. "It filled me with so much anger and sadness. I was angered at whoever would do such a thing to him, but so unbearably sad just thinking about how he felt," he said, rubbing the back of his neck at the memory. "He was out there in the rain with that same mask on and he looked over at me, shivering cold. You shoulda seen the boy, he was like an injured dog, he grabbed a piece of broken glass and tried to defend himself from me. It really was the most heartbreaking thing I'd seen."

"It took days for me to get him to just eat something. He didn't trust anyone or anything that came his way. I'd go out to see him every single day, try and give him water and food and just coax him, told him everything was alright and that he could trust me," he continued, smiling fondly at the memory. "It took another month before he followed me into the clubhouse and let me bathe him and give him clothes. He wouldn't let me touch that damn mask and he never uttered a damn word. I figured he was a mute at the time so I didn't think too much of it. Once he got comfortable I showed him to the rest of the crew, at the time it was the old batch, the generation before this one, and we had a ruthless leader before Fury and she welcomed Frank with open arms but he was attached to me," he chuckled happily and her heart warmed, a soft smile spreading on her lips.

"Frank warmed up to the rest of the crew but it took a mighty long time, soon him and Fury were inseparable," he said, laughing joyously at the memories. "When he first spoke he told me what happened to him before he got to the clubhouse. Boy, let me tell ya. I'd never heard such a pain-filled past before and he was so young."

"Could you..." Charlie began, looking at him. "Could you tell me?"

He smiled sweetly. "I ain't supposed to tell no one," he began. "But I think you're the exception."

She smiled softly and continued working, listening as he started.

"He told me his parents had died in a car accident that he was in when he was six," he began, Charlie's movements suddenly stopping. "After that, he was thrown with his mentally unstable uncle--since he was the only family that he had left--and his uncle tied him up in the basement and tattooed him for hours. It just about broke my heart, he told me how he didn't understand why his uncle did it, why he did anything like that to him. He spent six years like that and one day he was able to kill his uncle and get away," he said, pausing to look up at me. "He cried when he told me and he let me take his mask off and I watched him bawl his eyes out like a normal little kid. He cried and cried and he said he hated how he didn't feel bad for killing his uncle, but he couldn't get him out of his head."

Charlie wanted to burst into tears. She could feel the ball rise in her throat but she swallowed it back, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears that threatened to spill. 

"I gotta say, it makes me happy seeing him with you," he said, smiling softly. "He's the happiest he has ever been when he's with you. I'm proud of him for coming this far."

"I'm glad I came here," she admitted, smiling happily. "But, who was the President before Fury?"

"Her name was Melissa McKarter," he said, her eyes widening.

"What did you say?"

He looked up at her and dug his wallet out. "Melissa McKarter," he repeated. "Here's a picture of her."

He held the small photo up and she nearly fell over.

It was her mother.

Duh duh duhhhhhhh

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I can ASSURE you, your questions you have regarding Fury will be answered in these next few chapters.

Things just got a lot more complicated. Until next time! Please continue to vote and comment, it really helps me out a lot.

With love,

D. M. Brightwell