Iron Fury MC Boxed Set

by Bella Jewel

  “That’s me.”

  “I have to know.” I grin, crossing my arms. “Are you still with her? I adore her!”

  “Sure am, and I’ll have to introduce you.”

  “Really?” I cry out, clapping my hands. “Awesome.”

  I turn and face who must obviously be Mason. The owner of this massive house. He’s staring at me, eyes so intense I fight the urge to look away. I don’t, though; instead, I just watch him until he finally speaks. “You got experience?”

  I cross my arms. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Not what I asked.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Yes. I have experience.”

  “You got a criminal record?”

  I snort. “No, not unless you count stealing a bra when I was twelve, but granted, it was really pretty, and I didn’t embrace the boobies at that stage in life, so I wanted to hide them.”

  He blinks, someone behind me chuckles.

  “You an alcoholic?”

  “Only on the weekends.”

  He presses his mouth together. Somebody else laughs.

  “Smoke?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Into drugs?”

  “Does coffee and chocolate count? Because honestly, those two things are pretty addictive …”

  He just keeps on staring. It’s like trying to crack a brick wall with a feather duster.

  I’m intrigued.

  I like a good challenge.

  “Is that all, or would you like to know the color panties I’m wearing, also? They’re pink, before you ask. And no, I’m not usually a fan of pink, far too girly, however, they were the only ones I had left at such short notice.”

  Another chuckle behind me.

  Mason continues to stare.

  Like he’s never met anyone like me before.

  That’s not unusual. I get that a lot.

  “I can cook, thanks to having a Maltese mother. I can clean like a champ. I’m a hard worker, and best of all, I’m not even the slightest bit scared of you. So, I think you and I both know you’re going to give me the job.”

  Mason’s brows go up. “That so?”

  I cross my arms. “That’s so. I don’t lie. I don’t steal. I don’t cheat. I’ll respect your house and do the job you give me. Easy as that.”

  “You don’t hire her, brother,” Malakai says, stepping up beside me, “I fuckin’ will.”

  “Well, your chance is nearly gone, in that case,” I point out to Mason. “Malakai here might just have a better offer …”

  Mason looks to Malakai then mutters, “Full-time. You know the pay. Live here. Stay outta my way and do what I ask and we’ll have no problems. You’re hired.”

  I beam and clap my hands together, turning to Malakai. “Is he always so pleasant?”

  Malakai grins and says, “Always, darlin’.”

  Well.

  This is going to be a hoot.

  ~3~

  SASKIA

  “So,” Chantelle says, skipping into my apartment later that night.

  Of course, she doesn’t knock, she doesn’t have to. She’s like part of the furniture. She just comes as a part of me. Where I am, she usually is. What’s mine is, more often than not, hers, too. That’s fine with me. I enjoy her company and, mostly, she makes me laugh. She’s the best friend a girl could ask for, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.

  My family isn’t exactly what you’d consider the best family to be raised into. My mother is spoiled, my father is a bit of a dick, and my sister, well, it embarrasses me that we’re related, let alone that I have to take claim to her. She’s selfish, cold, and the cruelest human being I’ve ever met. I’m not sure how, considering we were raised the same and I managed to keep my morals. Sure, I can be selfish when I need, and I don’t take a lot to heart, but her …?

  She’s a different kind of evil.

  So, it’s safe to say Chantelle is the only family I have.

  And I adore her.

  “You’re never going to believe it,” I tell her, eyes wide, rushing over.

  “What? What? Share with me, woman!”

  “The man who owns the house, the one looking for a maid, is a biker!”

  She stares at me for a second, and then blinks. “A what?”

  “A biker. You know, like leather jackets, motorcycles, clubs. Biker.”

  “Oh, my lord,” she squeals. “I paired you with a dirty old biker? That’s classic.”

  “No, no, no,” I tell her, grinning. “Not dirty and old.” I lean in close. “Fucking hot.”

  “What?” she squeals, jumping backward. “Okay. I need to sit down. This just keeps on getting better. Share more. Hot. How so? Tell me everything.”

  We both sit on my old, faded, baby-blue sofa that’s probably breeding its own type of semen it’s been fucked on that much—not by me, of course—but I do enjoy a party here and there, and old blue here seems to attract the best of them.

  “So, this gorgeous biker answers the door. And when I say gorgeous, I mean to die for. Dark features, scar on his face, like a freaking God. All broody and quiet. That’s not the best part, the best part is the rest of them that appeared. There were like freakin’ four of them. They’d made a bet to see who could guess how long it would take me to run. Apparently, all the other maids took one look at Mason, the owner, and ran.”

  Chantelle grins. “Not you, my tiger.”

  “Not me, sister. I waltzed in there, completely fascinated. I mean, bikers! And hot bikers! I needed to know more. And lord, they were so fricking good looking, it hurt my eyes to stare at them. But, you want to know the best part?”

  She shakes her head, eyes wide.

  “It’s the biker club that one of the members is with Scarlett Belle! You remember reading about that?”

  Chantelle’s hand flies to her mouth, and she screams behind it. “No. Freaking. Way!”

  “Way!” I chirp. “I kid you not. He was there, and let me tell you, he’s as hot in person as he was on television.”

  “Oh, my god! Why didn’t I pretend I was a maid! I need to meet these bikers. I need to know more. I need to know all of it! And, most importantly, I need, like desperately, to meet Scarlett Belle.”

  “That’s what I said.” I grin.

  “So, tell me the most important part.” She shifts so she’s directly facing me. She places her hands on my knees. “Did you get the job?”

  I grin, huge, and nod. “I did!”

  “Oh, my god! Oh. This is the best day ever. My best friend is going to be living with hot bikers. Hot. Bikers. And I’m going to get to meet Scarlett Belle. I can’t even right now.”

  “I know.” I laugh. “I’m super excited and the pay is excellent. And do not even get me started on the house, Chan. It’s massive. I can’t believe this is happening!”

  She claps her hands. “I knew that newspaper fell into my hands for a reason. I knew it! When do you start?”

  “Well, I’m going to trial it for a month before I move out of this place and live there permanently. I told him I didn’t want to give up my apartment until I was confident we could work together. He was fine with that. I’ll stay here Mondays and Tuesdays and then stay at the house the rest of the time. Those two days I just have to do basics, the other days I’ll work there, doing things for him, but he’s flexible. He said if I do everything needed then I’m free to go and do whatever I want.”

  “That’s awesome,” she beams. “This is amazing.”

  I nod, then I lose my smile just a little. “What do you think Enzo is going to think about it?”

  Enzo.

  The man I can’t get over. The man my heart throbs for. The man I know I should despise. I despise my sister for sleeping with him, so why in the hell can’t I hate him? Because I love him? Because I can rationalize it? I don’t know, all I know is that I’m unable to stop my feelings, and that makes me feel pathetic, insecure, and weak. More than anything, I just want answers from him.

&n
bsp; But he is so angry at me.

  So angry.

  And I don’t know how to get around that. What he did was awful; what I did was worse. I knew he was in trouble with the cops for selling drugs, and I gave them the information in a hot rage that got him locked up for six months. Sure, it isn’t life in prison, but it was enough to get him behind bars.

  All because I was hurt.

  And now my sister is out there, still skipping around with her nose stuck up in the air, and I’m still here, hurting, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do to fix this mess.

  Chantelle’s face scrunches up. “You’re my best friend, Sas, and I adore you but, honestly, screw Enzo. I know you want to pay off his debt so when he gets out he’s fully free, but the fact of the matter is, he screwed Yolanda right under your nose, and didn’t give a shit when you found out.”

  “That’s not entirely true, I’m still not sure he actually knew—”

  “No, bullshit, no,” she cuts me off. “He played it off, made you feel bad for reacting, made you question yourself, but the fact of the matter is he did it. He chose to do it.”

  “But—”

  “No, no buts. Stop making excuses. I know what you’re thinking, but you also know he knows better. He knows you. He made a choice. And now he’s fuming because you dobbed him in. I would have done a whole lot worse. He’s in prison, it won’t hurt him, he was getting involved in risky business, it’s not a bad thing he got locked up. As for you paying off his drug debt so he can come out clean, I don’t agree, but I also know you’re headstrong and are going to do it anyway. But I don’t think he deserves it. I don’t think he deserves you.”

  She’s right. Of course she’s right. He doesn’t deserve me. But, once again, my stupid heart has other ideas. Maybe I’ll never forgive him or this brutal hurt will never go away, but I need to do the right thing for myself. And I believe the right thing is making up for what I did. So, that’s what I’m going to do. Pay the money, and when he gets out in five months, it can be with a clean slate. What he does after that I guess is on him.

  “I know you’re right,” I tell her, standing and walking into my kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka and pouring us both a glass, “but I can’t help the way I feel. Don’t get me wrong, I despise the pain he caused me, and I was angry enough to do what I did, but that anger, right now, is just hurt. And it does hurt, Chan. It fucking kills. I see it every time I close my eyes, and I can’t fucking escape it.”

  Her face softens, and she takes the glass of vodka. “I know, hon. I know how much it must hurt, and that sucks. I just don’t want to see you waste another second of your life on that scumbag when you deserve so much better.”

  “I’ll do this, but I never said I was going to take him back.”

  She raises her brows. “If he came running back right now, I’m scared you would.”

  The worst part about that? She could be right.

  I’m still not one hundred percent confident I wouldn’t take him back.

  And I hate myself for that.

  Dammit.

  I really do.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  “Oh. My. Lord.”

  Chantelle’s hands press over her mouth as she stares at the four men who climb out of the massive black truck that just pulled up in my drive. The men are helping me move a few of my things over to Mason’s house today for my month’s trial. It isn’t much, one load, but my car is tiny, and it’ll take me all day to go back and forth with clothes, and shoes, and other things. So, they’re helping.

  I don’t know why they needed four people to help; it would have only taken one. I’m not complaining, though. Hell, seeing four bikers moving my stuff around is perfectly fine by me. I had a rough night last night, and I didn’t sleep. I’m looking forward to working and taking my mind off of everything. I told my boss I was leaving and, strangely, he didn’t seem to mind.

  Here I thought he loved me.

  “Shhh.” I grin, jabbing Chantelle in the ribs. “Calm yourself.”

  “I had an image in my head, but my lord, I didn’t expect them to look like that. I don’t know how I’m going to keep it together.”

  “They’re all taken, I think. Well, except Mason.”

  “Which one is Mason?” She leans toward the window, and we watch the four bikers stride up the front path.

  “Hot one, long hair.”

  “Oh. Fuck. You’re living with him? With that god-like creature? Imagine busting him coming out of the shower? Gosh. My vagina aches already.”

  I snort and shove her again. “Come on, let me introduce you. And calm yourself. We’re cool kids, yeah?”

  She rolls her eyes and we walk out of my bedroom and to the front door where I give her one more look and then open it. We’re faced with four incredibly gorgeous bikers, all dressed in leather, all smirking at us. All except Mason. His eyes, gosh, I’ve seen so many eyes but his are almost vacant, and that’s a little scary. It’s scary to know something in life can cause someone to shut off like that, to just block out everything they feel.

  I wonder how he’ll feel living with me.

  Will he find it difficult?

  “How’s it goin’, darlin’?” Malakai drawls.

  I grin. “It’s going pretty good, now you showed up with the hot brigade. Boys, this is my friend Chantelle. She’s practically peeing her pants over your hotness, but I promise she’ll be on her best behavior. Chan, this is Malakai, Maverick, Koda, and Mason.”

  She squeaks and steps forward. “I’m so excited! This is awesome! Bikers!”

  Her voice comes out as a chirp, and her cheeks are flushed.

  I laugh.

  All the men introduce themselves to her, and her eyes linger on Mason. I can’t say I blame her. Standing there, rugged as hell in his faded blue jeans, dark black tee, and leather jacket is bound to make any woman weak at the knees. Hell, I’m struggling to make eye contact with him. I need to get my shit together or I’ll find myself losing my wit around him.

  “I don’t have much,” I say, leading the four men into my bedroom. “Just all those bags.”

  I stare at the bags; there are about ten of them in total. I packed pretty much anything I could get my hands on so my room felt more at home. I’ve seen the room Mason is putting me in, and it looks fit for a freaking princess with its massive king bed, separate bathroom and toilet, and furniture that I couldn’t afford even if I sold my damned body for ten years.

  I need some comfort.

  “Not much?” Koda says, looking at it all.

  “Well, now that you point it out, I may have gotten a little over excited. But I like to be comfortable, you know?”

  Koda glances at me then grins. “Yeah.”

  The four men start loading up the bags, and I run around, looking for other things to take with me. I glance at my painting on the wall. I could hang that up, really make my room comfortable. I pull it off the wall when a man barks behind me, “No.”

  I turn around and see Mason staring at the painting, his face somewhat horrified. I let the painting go and cross my arms. “What do you mean no? It’s my room.”

  “No way in fuckin’ hell that paintin’ is touchin’ one of my walls.”

  I purse my lips. “Why not?”

  “It’s fuckin’ hideous!”

  I stare at the painting. Okay, sure, to the untrained eye it may come across as rather grotesque. It’s hard to explain, but it’s kind of a tangle of naked bodies, and there is an eye right in the middle. It’s an expensive piece, and I like it for some twisted reason. I always had a thing for the items that were different, unlike all the rest. I don’t like anything standard.

  “It’s not hideous,” I protest, facing him. “If I’m going to come and work for you, this painting is coming with me. I dare you to fight me.”

  Malakai comes in behind Mason and glances at the painting. His face scrunches.

  “Don’t scrunch your nose up, there is nothing wrong wi
th it.”

  “It’s nasty, darlin’.”

  “It’s not nasty,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Do you men want me to come and scrub your friend’s house, probably wash his nasty sheets, clean his gross toilets, or not?”

  “Not if that paintin’ is comin’,” Mason mutters, crossing his arms and giving me a look that just dares me to argue.

  “If you don’t take the painting, buddy, you don’t take me. And I’m worth it, I promise you.”

  Mason glares at me; I glare right back.

  “You should know, I’m an exceptional cook, amongst my other maid-like talents. You’ll regret not letting me and my incredible painting into your house. Live a little, I promise it won’t bite.”

  Mason grunts. “What-fuckin’-ever. Put it somewhere I can’t see it.”

  “Last time I checked, I had my own room. And I’m like ninety percent certain you’re not coming into my room, so we’re safe.”

  “Only ninety percent sure?” Maverick says, stepping up beside Malakai and frowning at the painting.

  “Stop scowling at my painting, you bunch of amateurs! It’s lovely. And yes, only ninety percent certain, the other ten percent of me is female, and he’s all broody and angry and that makes my vagina do weird things, so I can’t say for a hundred percent certain he’ll never come into my bedroom.”

  All three men stare at me, then Malakai and Maverick burst out laughing. “Fuck me, you’re one in a million, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Maverick chuckles. “Can’t wait to see how this ends.”

  I don’t let Mason comment to my little outburst. I’ve never been known to sugar-coat things, unfortunately. I’ve always been rather loud and said what I needed to say and always told the truth. Even if, at times I’ve been informed, the truth makes people uncomfortable. I would rather, any day, an uncomfortable truth over a white, hot lie.

  Those things destroy people.

  And I’m not into destroying people.

  I’d much rather them be uncomfortable.

  I find Chantelle dragging my last suitcase out of my room. “That’s it, those big, hot men took the rest. I think Mason likes me.”