Iron Fury MC Boxed Set

by Bella Jewel

  Playing along. My smart, fucking gorgeous woman. She gets it. Doesn’t know fuck-all about club life, but she gets it.

  Fuck yeah.

  “Wait,” the man cries. “What?”

  “We could put him with the club, let them play with him first,” Saskia says, rubbing her chin. “Or we could just dispose of him like we did the last one that threatened me? Depends, are you up for some fun, honey, or are we just going to get right down to business?”

  I’m going to fucking marry her.

  “I don’t feel like playin’ tonight, except with you,” I say, my voice thick and husky. “So, let’s just get rid of this fucker. You want to do the honors?”

  The man starts screaming and thrashing, then tries to stand and run. I use my booted foot to kick him back down onto the couch. He’s panting and red in the face, looking completely freaked out.

  “Please don’t kill me!” he screams. “Please! I didn’t mean any harm. Was never goin’ to hurt her. Please, oh, lord, please!”

  He closes his eyes and starts crying.

  Yeah, I think he’s learned his lesson.

  I look to Saskia, and we both burst out laughing.

  Yep.

  My kind of girl.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  “You sure you wanna do this?” Mason asks me as we get checked over at the prison.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen Mason without his colors; he always wears them, but some prisons have a thing about letting bikers in. Probably assuming they’ll deliver drugs or something equally as mischievous. In all fairness, they’re the most unlikely ones to be doing it. It’s the other scumbags that come in. The ones they least suspect, like girlfriends, or mothers, or even children.

  But let’s point fingers at the scary bikers.

  I’m starting to see how hard life must be for Mason sometimes.

  And all the members of the club.

  Constantly being judged.

  “I’m fine,” I say and, honestly, I am.

  I feel like the way I feel about Enzo has drastically changed. Maybe the worse he continues to treat me, the easier it is for me to realize I never want a thing to do with him again. Any man that can send people around to threaten you is no man at all. And he’s certainly not someone I want to be spending my life with. After all, he’s been lying to me for god knows how long, which means he’ll do it forever.

  I deserve better.

  And realizing that makes it so much easier to move on.

  Don’t get me wrong, sometimes in my chest I still feel these moments where it hurts, like a dull ache. Maybe, mostly, because I gave so much of my life to him and I honestly thought it would be forever, or maybe it’s just purely that I’m ashamed I didn’t see what was right in front of me, clearly, for a long time.

  “You don’t have to speak to that fucker if you don’t want. I can do all the talking,” Mason tells me, stepping close.

  I like it when he’s protective.

  I like everything about the way he makes me feel.

  “He doesn’t scare me, Mason,” I tell him. “Not at all. And I have more than one thing I want to say to that … that … jerk!”

  Mason doesn’t say anything as we finish all the security checks and move into the visitors’ room. We take a seat at a table, Mason sitting closer to me than I ever thought he would, but I totally like. And then we wait. About fifteen minutes later, they bring the prisoners in. I take one look and see Enzo right away. His eyes go to Mason, and his step falters for a split second.

  That’s extremely satisfying.

  Like, yes.

  Hell yes.

  He does keep moving to the table; it would have been nicer if he ran out like a little girl, but I know Enzo well enough to know his pride would never allow that. So, he walks over to the table and sits down, those eyes pinning mine.

  And for the first time, I feel nothing when I look into them.

  Fucking nothing.

  Except utter disappointment.

  “You couldn’t come without your little guard dog?”

  “Oh, Mason?” I say, sweetly. “He’s not my guard dog. More like the man I’m seeing, who is, mind you, a thousand times better than you.” I lean across the desk. “I wish I had known all these years that you were utterly terrible in bed.”

  Enzo’s face goes red, and he growls, “Back down, Saskia.”

  “Careful how you’re talkin’ to her,” Mason says, his voice monotone and scarily calm. “Don’t appreciate what you’ve been doin’ to her, don’t make me angrier.”

  Enzo looks to him. “A biker, classy.”

  Saskia shrugs. “He runs rings around you. I mean, at least he knows how to hide his business dealings without getting busted. Hell, you can’t even send people my way outside the prison without us finding them. You need to pick better men.”

  Enzo clenches his fists and glares at me. “We have a deal. You’re going to hold your end of the deal up. I need that money.”

  “Yeah, no, she ain’t,” Mason says, staring at Enzo with a steely expression.

  “None of your fucking business, biker.”

  “It is my fuckin’ business when you’re sendin’ men to my house to intimidate my girl.”

  His girl.

  My heart flutters.

  Enzo’s face gets harder.

  He doesn’t like that. Well good.

  “She and I have a deal.”

  “We have no deal,” I say, and he looks back to me. “I don’t owe you shit. You lied to me for god knows how long, and you’ve been delving into the world of drugs for far longer than I’m okay with. So, the fact of the matter is, you got yourself tangled in whatever you got tangled in, and now you’re going to have to live with it.”

  “Do you have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve done?” Enzo hisses. “Me bein’ in here has pissed off a lot of fuckin’ people. It has put the heat on operations, because you handed me into the cops. I had a good thing goin’, now I’ve got a fuckin’ army on my back, wantin’ revenge, wantin’ cash, wantin’ to take me out of the picture so I don’t ‘talk’ again.”

  “Oopsie.” I shrug, putting my hands up.

  “Fuck you, Saskia.”

  I smile. “No, thank you.”

  “You have no idea what you’re getting into,” he growls. “None, I will get my money, one way or another, and you’ll wish you never crossed me.”

  “First thing,” I say, standing. Mason stands beside me, thank god. “You’re in here, and I’m out there. Second, do you see who is standing beside me? No? Take a good look. He has far more contacts than you ever will. If you continue to threaten me, we’ll make sure you don’t see the light of another day.”

  Mason leans down, hands flat on the table, face stern. “Take her words seriously, boy. You don’t want to fuck with me, because I promise you, I’ll make you regret the fuckin’ day you were born.”

  With that, we both turn and walk out.

  I look to Mason as soon as we get outside of the prison. “Well, do you think he listened?”

  Mason runs his hand over his face and sighs. “Doesn’t seem like the type to listen. Seems to me his pride is bigger than his fuckin’ brain. I guess time will tell. But, either way, we’ll be waitin’.”

  I hope he listened.

  For his sake.

  Not for mine.

  Because I’ve got bikers on my side, baby.

  ~17~

  SASKIA

  “Girl, seriously, sit down,” Chantelle says, stomping into my bedroom after ringing my doorbell like a crazy woman for five minutes.

  “What is it, chicky?” I ask her, unpacking the last of my things. Mason told me he’s giving me the job full time.

  I’m still not sure I’m making the right choice moving in here full time, living with him. I mean, right now, things are fun. We fuck. We laugh. We talk. But what if that changes? Will I honestly be able to live here and not let it affect me? I’m not sure I can, but, I figure, for r
ight now it’s excellent money and I’ve met some incredible people. Not only that, I feel safe.

  I like my job.

  I like living here.

  And I really like Mason.

  “I’m pissed!” she huffs, flopping down onto my bed and lying on her back.

  “Care to share why, or am I going to have a go at guessing?” I smirk, tossing the empty box aside and putting my clothes on hangers.

  “Okay, so, after the bar that night, when you left with Mason, I was waiting out front for a cab when Boston came out.”

  My eyes swing to her. “This is news. You didn’t tell me this!”

  “Because, I’ve been, I don’t know, seeing what happens.”

  “Okay, carry on, you have my attention.”

  She crosses her arms and stares at the ceiling. “Anyway, he asked if I wanted a ride. Well, of course I didn’t say no. He took me home on the back of that motorbike.” She sits up quickly. “Have you been on Mason’s, yet?”

  I nod.

  “My lord, I was soaking by the time we got there. All those vibrations, and the hot biker I had my arms wrapped around.”

  I grin. I know the feeling well. It’s sensational.

  “Carry on,” I urge.

  “Well, we arrived and got chatting, you know, just casual talk. I invited him inside, and he said yes. You can imagine, I was totally shocked, but so excited. He said yes!”

  Oh, boy.

  “Okay, and then …”

  “We had sex,” she says, meeting my eyes. “And my fucking lord, it was incredible. I can’t even explain, though I’m sure you know what it’s like to be with one of those big, powerful men. He had me against the wall, all muscle and cock, fucking me like an animal. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life. Not ever.”

  I know exactly what she’s saying, and I know how good it feels.

  “Anyway, we talked a bit after, and he really made me laugh. He’s got this dark soul, but a dry sense of humor that really matched mine. We actually … had fun. He left, and I felt okay, you know? Like it was just a good night and that was that.”

  I sit on the bed beside her, too wrapped up in her story to pay any more attention to my unpacking. “But it wasn’t just that, was it?”

  She shakes her head. “Two days later, he rolled in looking fine on that motorbike and asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. So, I got dressed, and we went for a ride.”

  “What kind of ride,” I ask, and she grins.

  “Believe it or not, not that kind. He took me sight-seeing, and we had lunch, and we talked a lot. For someone so broody and quiet, he wasn’t hard to talk to, we got along almost … effortlessly. It was the first time I’ve ever been able to let my guard down, and just talk to a man, no sarcasm or attitude. Just me.”

  Wow.

  That’s a big deal.

  Chantelle hides a lot of who she really is behind her bubbly personality and sarcasm, but she’s actually quite broken deep down. She’s had a hard life, and she holds it well, but there is a softer, far more fragile side to her she rarely lets people see. I’m shocked to hear she let Boston see it after such a small time.

  “That’s a big deal for you, letting him see what’s behind the sassy girl we all know and love.”

  She nods, huffing. “He just, I don’t know, got me. Like he could see behind it all. It was an awesome day, Sas. Like really awesome. And we caught up again the next day, and he let me come by his house, and something felt good, you know? Really good. We had a few drinks, a swim, and he fucked me in that pool. So damn slow, and good, and I think I fell a little bit in love with him after it.”

  “It’s called lust, honey, but I can see why you’d feel it so soon. It sounds incredible. So, why are you so pissed?”

  She looks down at her hands, and for the first time in a lot of years, I see a flash of something cross her face. Jealousy? Insecurity? Confusion? I’m not sure what it is, but it’s real, and it’s rare to see real from her.

  “Hey,” I say, scooting closer. “Talk to me.”

  “Well, Penny came in to work with his sister. He has two carers, so they both only work part time. It was her day, so she arrived that night and the other lady left. She came outside, saw us, and she was really nice, you know. But then he went inside to get another drink and was gone for ages. Like ages. So, I went in, and they were in the kitchen, and she was crying, and he was talking to her, all soft and different to the way he talks to me. And he just kind of shrugged me off when I asked if she was okay. He asked me to leave. He didn’t even look at me.”

  My heart breaks for her, because that would suck. But this, right here, is exactly why I tried to warn her the other night. Boston and Penny, they definitely had a little something, maybe just a connection, maybe a real friendship, or maybe nothing more than a working partnership that goes really well. Either way, it was there, and I felt it immediately. But, this isn’t entirely on Chantelle considering, at this point, it seems like Boston is the one pursuing her.

  “Oh, honey. It could have been anything. She might have had a really hard day, you don’t know what is happening in her world …”

  Chantelle shrugs, still staring at her hands. “Of course, and I really like Penny, so I hope it wasn’t anything bad, and I don’t mind that she turned to him. It was the way he reacted. The way he turned cold. And the worst part, is that he didn’t make any contact after it. Not for days. I felt used. And stupid. So, last night, he finally called …”

  I don’t really like this situation already, but I nod and listen, because that’s the right thing to do.

  “He said he’d been busy and asked if I wanted to catch up. I said sure, I’d come over there and he said no, he’d come here. I should have hung up the phone and told him where to go, but I didn’t, I let him come over. And we had more amazing sex. But he left afterward, and I’ve ignored his calls since. He’s using me, isn’t he? It’s clear he has some sort of attachment to Penny, but she’s kind and sweet and he’s a big broody biker who likes to fuck. He isn’t going to get that from her. Basically, I’m his own personal version of a club whore.”

  Ouch.

  If it was anyone else, I’d probably say she was right. But Boston isn’t like that, he truly isn’t. He’s got a good soul, you can see it in him. I don’t think he’d use Chantelle, and if he did, he wouldn’t have made the effort to take her out and spend time with her. No. If I were to put my money on what’s going on, I’d say Boston has found himself attracted to two women.

  Two very different women.

  “Listen, Chan,” I say, taking a breath and facing her, “I’m going to be real with you here, because that’s what we do. We be real with each other. I think this situation is going to get messy, and I think the best thing for you to do would be to stay away from Boston completely. Not because I think you don’t deserve him, or a relationship, but because he is clearly confused.”

  “So, you don’t think he’s using me?”

  I exhale. Telling her the truth, means she might just take it as a sign she should keep fighting for Boston, which could end really, really messy.

  But I’m no liar.

  “No, I don’t think he’s using you. Boston is a good guy, everyone in the club would be totally with me when I say that. My honest opinion is that he’s found himself attracted to both of you, probably in very different ways. Penny is soft and sweet and he probably feels a certain protective emotion toward her, it probably brings out his masculine side and makes him want to wrap her in his arms and take care of her.”

  Chantelle flinches.

  I keep going.

  “And then there is you, fun and happy, a bright spark that probably brings out a good side in him, a happy side, a carefree side. I promise you, he hasn’t felt that in a long time. From what Mason has told me, Boston has a dark past and often keeps to himself and doesn’t express much. You probably take him away from that. You set his soul on fire, you make him feel alive.”

  She b
links and nods, as if she understands.

  “But the problem is, you’re both feeding a different side to him, obviously both sides mean something to him, because he’s clearly confused. If it were me, I’d probably step away now while you can. Because if you get involved and he falls a little harder for you and a little harder for her, you could find yourself in a triangle that is very hard to break free from. Worse, you might actually fall for him and think, for a small second, how it might feel if he picked Penny …”

  Chantelle’s face falls, and I know that’s an awful thought.

  Nobody ever wants to be second choice.

  Neither her nor Penny would deserve that.

  But if they enter this situation, that’s exactly what will happen.

  Someone will get very, very hurt.

  And to be one hundred percent honest, I wouldn’t want to see either of them hurt. Chantelle is my best friend, and Penny is a great woman.

  This situation is like walking on the edge of hell.

  Someone is going to get very, very burned.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  A loud screech out the front of Mason’s house has me dropping the mop that I was running over the floor and darting out the front door. I don’t think, I don’t even hesitate. I just run out there. A horn blares and more brakes screech. Shit. I run out past the front gates and onto the road where a car has collided with a pole out the front of Mason’s house, to the left a little.

  My heart races, and I rush over, terrified of what I’m going to find.

  I know people who have said they’d rather call an ambulance than look inside a car that has crashed, just in case what they see they can never unsee. I’m not one of those people, though; if someone is in there, and hurt, I’m going to get them out. Or at least, I’m going to do the best I can to make sure they’re okay.

  I rush over to the car, and a few other people have already stopped and gotten out of their cars. I reach the driver’s side and pull the door open and stop dead in my tracks. Theresa, Mason’s sister, is in the front seat. She’s hanging onto the steering wheel, knuckles white, staring straight ahead. Okay, I know she’s not a very nice person, but I’m not cruel enough to just walk away.