by Bella Jewel
I nod, and then I scream. I scream and beg him to stop. All while he does his best to pull me together so I can walk out of here. It’s not going to be easy. I’m battered, and broken, and bruised, and the idea of running if I have to, makes me feel ill. If it comes down to it, I’m not sure I have the strength to run, or hide, or fight.
So, there is a good chance I’m not getting out of here.
“Shut up,” Slater roars, and then nods at me, so I can stop screaming.
“Good,” he murmurs. “He trusts me, so I can get you out of here, but-”
Gunshot rings out.
Loud.
Crazy.
Almost machine gun sounding.
Slater’s head whips around, and he listens, eyes intent. There is yelling, the insane kind, orders, roars of pain, demands, and threats. It all blends together in one big mix that makes it hard to make out what’s happening, but whatever is happening, it is bad. Even I know that, just purely because of the sound.
“Shit,” Slater growls. “Shit. Mafia.”
Mafia?
Oh God.
Already?
I look at him, desperately. “Slater?” I whisper.
“Safest place for you, is here, Charlie. I’ll lock the door, nobody will get in. I’ll make sure Koda knows where you are. But I have to go out there, it’s a war, a blood bath. I promise you, I’ll get you out.”
I grab onto his arm, swaying. “If you die…”
“I won’t die, I’ll make sure you get out, do you hear me?”
“But…”
He grabs my chin in his hands. “This is our chance, Charlie. Yours, mine, Koda’s, Ellie’s…this is our chance to rid the world of Benjamin Masters once and for all. Gotta understand, I need to be out there.”
My knees tremble.
But, oh, do I understand that better than anyone.
Slater pulls out his phone, handing it to me. “If, for some small chance, I don’t come back. Call someone.”
He gives me the address and location that I’m in, the code for the lock on the outside of the door, and a gun. Then he gives me one, last look, and disappears. I hear the click of the lock, and breathe a little relief knowing at least in here, I’m safe.
For now.
The sounds of gun fire continue, and distress catches my heart. I cover my ears, clenching my eyes shut, and try to block it out. The agonized roars of wounded men, and the yelling, and the sounds of death still manage to penetrate.
But the sound that I hear the most, is my brain screaming at me.
The ugly part of my soul begging me.
To get out.
To watch him die. To watch his last breath on this earth.
And then there is the rage, the bitter rage that someone else is out there, getting the moment I’ve waited my whole life for.
Mostly, I hate myself for having that thought. For thinking that it should be me that gets to watch the life sucked from him.
But it isn’t me.
I’m stuck in here, barely able to keep conscious.
And someone else is out there slaying the monster I’ve fought my whole life against.
God dammit.
~*~*~*~
NOW – KODA
An ambush.
Unlike any I could have imagined.
From the spot Slater told me to wait, I watch them roll in. The Mafia, obviously, but there are more than fifty of them, fully loaded with deadly machine guns and weapons that make me think twice about my position, even here. There is no hope for Shanks, none at all. I’ve been watching, and most of his men, at least the closest ones, are all in the massive warehouse where he has taken Charlie.
His operation is about to die, along with him.
But so is Charlie.
Panic seizes my chest, a familiar fear I’ve felt once before.
When Braxton had a gun to his head.
And I could do nothing to stop it.
This feels the fuckin’ same.
There is no way I can go in there, no way in hell.
If I tried to take a step through those gates, I’d be dead.
I have to be smart, but all my instincts are screamin’ at me to go to her, to get her out, to kill every mother fucker that has touched her, to watch her father scream as I murder him.
But I can’t do any of that, and it fuckin’ burns me.
It burns me to my very fuckin’ core, because she’s in there because of me.
Because of my stupidity.
Because I let her down.
Because I didn’t want to admit she mattered to me.
That she was the first person to break through the barrier.
The first person to rip down the walls I’d built up so high.
And fuck. I let her down.
I stare at the blood bath unfolding before my eyes, men dead. It won’t be long before the police throw themselves in the mix. It won’t take long before someone calls it in, someone nearby. This will make the news. This will make every headline in the country. A massacre. A bloody massacre.
But the Mafia are smart, they’ll be gone and cleared out long before anything can be done about it.
They’re already pulling their men together, dragging the dead ones out, loading up the trucks that have just rolled in. They won’t be here for much longer.
And neither will Charlie if I don’t do somethin’.
I consider calling in the club, but we don’t have enough man power to take this down. I have to wait, there is fuck all I can do.
I have to fuckin’ wait.
And pray that Slater keeps his word, and he keeps her safe.
Fuck.
Please let him keep her safe.
-25-
NOW – CHARLIE
I’m terrified.
And broken.
And I don’t think I can stay awake much longer, but I know I have to.
I can’t handle the sounds anymore.
Some of them came so very close, and fear gripped me, terrified somebody would come in and end it once and for all.
The door lock makes a sound, the sound of somebody who knows the code, and I grip the gun in my hands, pointing it out, waiting. If it isn’t Slater, I’ll shoot. I can barely stand, my whole body is collapsing from the inside out, but I can’t fail now. I can’t fall. Because like Rebecca said, even if I’m surrounded by brick walls, I blow myself out.
I do not give up.
My father steps in, bloodied, limping, and slams the door behind him. He can’t lock it from in here, which means he just exposed us both to the dangers outside. He turns, and his bloodied face meets mine, and the gun I’m holding, and for a second, he looks shocked. He must know, in the brief second he has to think about it, that someone gave me this gun.
Someone betrayed him.
“Slater,” he hisses.
My hands tremble, but I don’t lower the gun.
This is my chance, my chance to take him out. The chance I’ve waited so long for. The moment I’ve dreamed of my entire life. So why can’t I pull the trigger? Why are my hands shaking? Why are my knees trembling?
My father bares his teeth in a bloody smile and laughs, low and gargled. He’s injured, quite badly, and there is thick red blood running from his chest. But he’s still alive, he’s still standing, and this might be the only chance I ever have of ridding the world of him. The only chance.
So why aren’t I taking it?
Tears - ugly, broken tears burn under my eyelids and I feel pathetic. Weak even.
“You won’t do it, Charlene,” he croaks, grinning at me. “We both know you won’t. You think you’re tough, you think you have it over me, but you don’t. You never did, and you never will. If you wanted me out of this world, you would have done it years ago when you got me locked up. But you didn’t, because you’re weak, and pathetic, and I own you.”
He owns me.
God. Does he?
My hands shake, and my teeth chatter together.
H
e takes a shaky step forward, and I jiggle the gun. “I’ll shoot you. I’ve dreamt of this moment every second. My entire life I’ve thought about how it would feel to watch you die.”
“And yet, I’m still standing.”
I don’t say anything, I just hold his eyes. The cold, ugly eyes of the man who brought me into this world, and the one who will take me out, if I don’t find my strength.
But will killing him, make me as big of a monster as him?
I think of my Mother.
I think of Oliver. Whose life was taken in such a similar situation to this. He never got the chance to know that he took my father down. He was killed trying to save me, and he did save me, he got me the freedom I so desired, even just for a little while. I owe him this. Because he never got to get married, or have children. His last good deed on this earth, was doing what he promised.
Saving me.
He took a bullet to the chest trying to take this monster down.
“You won’t do it, we both know you won’t. You’re weak, pathetic, just like your mother was. Stupid, even.”
“Don’t you talk about her!” I hiss.
“Or what?” he laughs. “What will do you, Charlene? Your mother died because she was stupid. She had her brains scattered all over my office, because she was weak. You’ll die the same way. Because, I will kill you. And I will relish in it.”
My tears finally fall, rolling down my cheeks in big waves.
My Mother.
My poor, innocent, beautiful Mother.
And Oliver.
And Braxton.
And all the other lives he has ruined.
He steps closer again, and his grin gets bigger. His bloodied teeth loud and proud. He is enjoying this. He honestly believes I won’t shoot him. That I won’t take his life.
He’s wrong.
So. So. Wrong.
“I’ll never forget the way she screamed.”
He’s laughing.
The dead, cold, asshole.
“Never forget the fear on her face. She actually thought I was going to help her, the stupid, naïve bitch. She thought I loved her. She thought she’d hit the jackpot when she met me. What an idiot. And she produced an even bigger idiot. You don’t have it in you. You’re weak, and pathetic, and I curse the day you were born, Charlene. You’re the biggest mistake-”
I pull the trigger.
The gun sends me tumbling backwards, and it falls from my hands. I hit the ground with a scream of pain, and for a few moments, I can’t move.
Then I turn my head, through my tears, and look at my father laying on the ground, rasping, barely able to take a breath.
He isn’t dead.
I didn’t kill him.
I…I failed.
~*~*~*~
NOW – KODA
When they’re gone, Slater appears, bloodied and battered, but alive. Thankfully fuckin’ alive.
Together, we fuckin’ hustle into that warehouse, past the dead bodies, the ones groaning in pain from injuries that will soon kill them. The warehouse is a mess, blood splattered on walls, furniture tipped over, guns lying everywhere. It’s a damned war scene. I don’t give a fuck.
I just want Charlie.
I just need to see if she’s okay.
Fuck, please let her be okay.
We run down a set of stairs to a basement, where a few men lay dead outside the door. The door that is cracked open.
“Fuck,” Slater hisses. “I left that locked.”
Which means somebody got in there. An unfamiliar feeling crushes my chest, and for a second, for a split fuckin’ second, I think about what life might be like without Charlie in it. The only person since Brax, that understands me. The only person I’ve let in. And a pain I’ve long locked away, rises to the surface and I hold my breath, I hold it, terrified of what I’m about to find.
We shove through the door, and the first thing I see is two people on the ground. One of them is crouched over the other, staring, sobbing, hands holding a gun.
She’s fuckin’ alive.
Charlie is alive.
She’s fucked up, so fucked up if it wasn’t for her gorgeous hair, I’d have trouble recognizing her.
What have they done to her? What the fuck have they done to her?
I rush in, shoving past Slater, and drop to my knees, carefully cupping her face and turning it towards me. She’s crying, blood tinged tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Baby,” I rasp out. “Fuck.”
“H-h-h-h-h-he’s not dead, Koda. He’s not dead. And I can’t shoot him again. I can’t. I thought I was s-s-s-strong enough, but I’m not. I can’t…but he’s not dead.”
I glance down at her father laying on the ground, gasping for air, blood bubbling out of his mouth. I’ve waited for this moment since I watched the life sucked out of Braxton’s eyes. But I find myself turning back to Charlie, the beautiful broken girl, that has fought so hard, her whole fuckin’ life, against this monster.
“You can do it,” I say, holding her face, forcing her to look at me. “Because you’re the strongest girl I know. Fuck me, Charlie. I have lived only years of my life with the pain I feel, you’ve lived an entire existence of it. And you can still smile. You can still laugh. You can still lay your life on the line for other people. Don’t you ever let me hear that you’re not fuckin’ strong enough.”
She shakes her head, and hiccups. It sounds raspy, her breathing ragged. She needs a hospital. Urgently.
“I c-c-c-can’t, Koda. I can’t.”
“You can. Because this man here, he took your life, and everyone you love. He took it, and he crushed it in his hands. You told me you wanted him gone, and now is your chance. Your chance for freedom, the one you’ve fought so hard for. I fuckin’ believe in you, Charlie. You’re the first person I’ve believed in, since my world was crushed. Do it for me.”
She hiccups.
“And for your mother.”
Her bottom lip trembles.
“And for Oliver.”
She clenches her eyes shut.
“And for Braxton.”
Her eyes open at that, and with a ragged cry, she says, “Will you do it with me? Will you help me slay the monster?”
I smile at her, weakly, fuckin’ wound up so tight I want to explode. And knowing, right here in this moment, that I fuckin’ love this girl.
I love her so fuckin’ hard it hurts.
“You’ve wanted this as much as me,” she croaks, her eyes going slightly hazy. “You want it, too. So, will you do it with me? Will you do it for them? For all of us?”
I stroke my thumb over her cheek. “I’d fuckin’ do anything for you, Charlie. I nearly lost you once, because of how fuckin’ foolish I was. I won’t do it again. Not to him. Not to anyone.”
“It’ll be just me and you against the world, Koda…”
“Yeah, baby. Me and you.”
I slide my hands from her face, and glide them down her arms, and to the gun. I curl my finger around hers, and we aim the gun right at where Shanks’ heart lies. He looks up at us, and for the first time, he has no power. He has nothing. A flash of fear crosses his face, when he recognizes me, and I smile.
“This is for all of them,” I grin at him.
And then, I use my finger over Charlie’s to pull the trigger.
His body jerks, and the bullet glides through with ease.
And I watch as the last breath leaves his body, and everything goes still.
Charlie slumps back into me, her body trembling, and I cradle her in my arms.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” I murmur into her ear. “Never again, Charlie. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. From here out, I’ll never let you down. You have my word. You’re mine, and fucked if anyone will ever hurt you again.”
“I think you might be falling in love with me, Dakoda,” she whispers, then chuckles with a wince.
“I think you might be right, even if you are a pain in my ass.”
“Th
at’ll never change.”
I grin. “Wouldn’t want it to.”
“So that’s really it? I’m free? I’m really free?”
“You’re free, honey.”
“We did it. We really slayed the monster?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, holding her close. “We fuckin’ slayed the monster.”
For now. At least.
I turn to Slater, looking him in the eyes. He watched the whole thing play out, and didn’t say a word. He let us do what we needed to do, even though I’m sure he wanted more answers from Shanks. He did it for us. That means a fuckin’ lot. He nods, his face battered. I reach out a hand, and he steps forward, taking it. I grip his tightly.
Owe him Charlie’s life.
Owe him a fuckin’ lot.
“You put your life on the line for us tonight, and you saved my girl. Now, we’ll help you save yours. That’s a damned promise.”
He makes a throaty sound, and rasps, “Appreciate it.”
“Welcome to the Iron Fury MC, Slater.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
SASSY LITTLE THING
COPYRIGHT BELLA JEWEL 2019
PROLOGUE
You do what you have to in life.
That’s how I see it, anyway.
You can either choose to do what makes other people happy, or you can flip them the bird and do what makes you happy. People, in my opinion, don’t take happiness seriously enough. They’re forever trying to please someone else, no matter who it might be. A family member, a partner, a boss, a friend, hell, even their children. Everyone puts everyone else first.
Not me.
Call me selfish—hell, I probably am.
But that’s a choice I made a long time ago.
I decided I was the most important thing in my life, and I do whatever I have to do to make sure it stays that way.
Of course, with a name like Saskia, little to no money, an ex-boyfriend in prison—who, mind you, I still love—and a shitty ass job, it isn’t always easy to find inner happiness.
But here I am, giving it a red hot go.
I’ve never felt pity for myself, and I rarely take pity on others. You choose your life, do you not? Sure, don’t get me wrong, you might have a bad start, a horrific story to tell, and shit go down that is far from pleasant, but you still choose how you walk your path. Do you drag your feet, feeling sorry for yourself and living in misery, or do you pick your damned feet up and skip down that path, refusing to let anyone knock you down?
