Me, please. (Iron Fury MC Book 5)

by Bella Jewel

  “Yeah,” I growl. “Fuck.”

  “Oh God,” she whimpers. “You’re so hard.”

  I am.

  I’m so fucking hard it aches. It throbs. It fuckin’ burns. I use my hands to guide her as gently as I can up and down on my cock. She’s whimpering and clutching me, and her head is tipped back as she rides my cock. She wants it, just as much as I do. Her pussy clenches and unclenches around my dick, letting me know this is going to be as short lived for her, as it is for me.

  Her moans increase, my cock gets wet from her arousal, and she’s scratching at any part of my body that she can get her hands on. My balls ache as I move her faster, harder, forgetting how sore she is, forgetting that I shouldn’t fucking be doing this. I can’t be what she wants. I can’t be what anyone fuckin’ wants.

  Then she moans my name in a breathy voice, and I’m done for.

  I come so hard I see stars, my cock pulses and releases into her tiny, tight, fuckin’ sweet body. Her screams join my growls, and I know she’s found her release too, her body trembles against mine.

  And only after a few minutes, do either of us catch our breath.

  And we sit there. Silently.

  I just used her for release.

  And she knows it.

  After a few moments, she climbs off my lap, adjusts herself and then stares down at me, her eyes flashing. “While that was incredible, I know exactly why you did it. I’m going to say this once, and once only Boston. I can move on with my life. I can be okay without you. But for some reason, I’m here, still wanting you so much my body aches. I don’t want you to drown. Do you hear me? I don’t want you to drown. I want you to swim. I want you to fight the current, and I want you to get your head above water. Because you’re strong, and you’re courageous, and you’re the best man I’ve ever met. Your actions do not define you. But, they can sculpt you, if you allow them to. Slowly, they’ll reform who you are, but only if you let them. There isn’t anything else I can say to you now, that’ll help you. The choice has to be your own.”

  With that, she turns and walks out.

  Leaving me sitting, completely fucking confused.

  Her words hit me right in the gut. She hits me right in the gut. Everything about her draws me closer, and yet I’m so fuckin’ scared of what it all means.

  I sit there, silently, for what seems like a fuckin’ eternity.

  I think about Penny.

  I think about Chantelle.

  I think about Nerissa.

  I think about the club.

  And I think, I wonder if all of those things, are what has sculpted me.

  And do I like who they’ve made me become?

  A knock at my door snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn, staring in the direction it came from. Cassie isn’t here, she’s staying with her temporary carer, because I didn’t want her to see me like this, which means it isn’t her. Chantelle left only half an hour ago; surely, she wouldn’t be back, and she wouldn’t knock.

  Growling, I stand and walk into the house, jeans still unbuttoned at the top. I reach the front door and open it, seeing an unfamiliar face.

  A man stands, his eyes on mine, a grin on his face.

  Who the fuck is he?

  I’ve never seen him before in my life.

  “Well well, what are the odds I’d be so lucky? But it would appear, today is my day.”

  I open my mouth and growl, “Who the fuck—”

  And that’s as far as I get.

  Before he plunges a needle into my neck.

  And my entire world goes black.

  ~22~

  NOW – CHANTELLE

  Well.

  That didn’t quite go as planned. I certainly didn’t plan on going in there and having sex with Boston, and then walking out as he sat almost blankly. I hoped my words would penetrate. I hoped they’d get through. But I don’t think they did. I just...don’t think they got in there. It’s hard to know. He was so closed off compared to what he usually is. It’s like he has just given up.

  And that terrifies me.

  Because I don’t want him to give up.

  I know Penny forgiving him will mean everything, but I don’t know if she’s going to give that.

  And can anyone truly blame her?

  After all, she did see something horrific and that would have scarred her. On its own, it would have been bad enough, but coming from a man she adored, it would have felt even worse.

  But he was protecting her.

  Surely, she can see he isn’t a monster?

  I consider going to her, but I have enough to worry about right now, like the fact that I still haven’t told Boston I’m pregnant. Hell, after today, I don’t even know if I’m going to. I honestly don’t know a damned thing right now, except my mind is a blurred mess and I’m not sure how to get it back to thinking clearly.

  I arrive home, and sigh loudly when I see Yolanda standing at my front door, hands on her belly, clearly waiting for me.

  Dealing with her and Enzo, that’s a whole other problem I’m honestly not looking forward to right now. The club has enough to deal with, they don’t need extra drama from me. But, they do have to be dealt with. I’m just not entirely sure how to do that just yet.

  I take a deep breath and get out of my car, walking very slowly and hesitantly up to the front door. For all I know, she’s about to pull out a gun and shoot me. Anything is possible when it comes to the desperate love she seems to have for Enzo. I don’t know why, I’d never want someone who was in love with my sister first. Each to their own, I guess.

  “I will call the police,” I say to her, approaching cautiously.

  She turns more towards me, and I can see she’s been crying. Hard. Her face is puffy and red, and there are still fresh tear streaks on her face. She’s clutching that belly like it’s going to get up and run away from her.

  “I’m not here to start anything with you, Chantelle. Hell, I shouldn’t even be here.”

  I cross my arms and keep my distance, “Then why are you here?”

  She looks around. “I’m...I’m here to warn you. Then I’m leaving. I’m leaving town, and I’m never coming back. Enzo is out, and he’s...lost his mind. I thought, I don’t know, that we would have this magical reunion and run off together. But he’s...different now. He hurt me.”

  She reaches down and lifts her shirt, and her stomach is bruised – deep, dark marks marring her skin. My eyes widen and it’s only then I see them up her arms, too.

  “Have you been to a doctor?” I gasp.

  She nods. “They tell me the baby is okay, somehow. I don’t know how, but I’m not taking the chance he could change that. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back. I should have done it a long time ago, but I was stupid, and selfish, and whatever...that means nothing now. I won’t put my child in the hands of a monster.”

  I’m not entirely sure I believe her, but I nod anyway. It takes a lot of guts to do that, if that’s really what she’s doing and this isn’t some sort of trap. It’s hard to tell, to be honest.

  “Is this some sort of trick?” I ask her. “Because I swear, I’m about at the end of my rope.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it isn’t a trick. But I understand why you think it would be. I’m not here to set you up, once I leave here, I’m gone. Nobody is going to see me again. I’m here to tell you that Enzo is taking Boston. He probably already has. He had it all perfectly planned. He’s going to use him to get the money he needs from you. I’m warning you because, I don’t know, it might give you and the club a small chance. But Chantelle, please know, he will kill him. Without hesitation. That man is a monster, and in all honesty, he scares me. I don’t know if me warning you is going to help Boston in any way, but I can tell you, Enzo is alone. He’s acting alone. Be smarter than him, and you might just get Boston back in one piece.”

  My heart launches up into my chest.

  I only just left Boston’s house.

  I need to call him. To warn him.


  I pull out my phone. “This better not be a trick, Yolanda.”

  “It isn’t,” she says, glancing around nervously. “But I do have to go. I can’t be here. He’ll figure out I’ve left soon, and I can’t risk the wrath that’ll come my way if I’m not far gone.”

  She steps past me and I meet her eyes.

  “Tell Saskia...” she hesitates, “tell her I’m sorry. For not being the sister I should have been.”

  With that, she disappears.

  I watch her go, and then dial Boston’s number. I don’t know if she’s making this up, and it’s some sort of trap to get me right where they want me, but I can’t take the risk. I have to know he’s okay.

  His phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer.

  My heart pounds and I turn, rushing back to my car.

  I get in and the entire drive to his house, I call and call.

  No answer.

  When I arrive, his front door is wide open. I instantly feel sick. I don’t know what it is about that sight, but I know even before I get out of the car, that he’s not here. And I’m right. After running through his house, I see his drink and phone exactly where he left them. But he isn’t here. God dammit. If I didn’t leave...If I had just stayed...I curse and pull out my phone, gearing up to call Malakai, when mine rings in my hand.

  Unknown number.

  My stomach twists and I answer it, already knowing who it’ll be before the voice comes through the line.

  “Hello Chantelle, finally, we get to speak. I’ve been waiting a long time.”

  Enzo.

  “What have you done with him?” I hiss.

  He laughs, low and gravelly. Not the man I once knew, definitely not.

  “I haven’t done anything with him...yet. But I will. To prove a point to you, and to that club, that I won’t lay down and take what they’ve dished out. If you don’t want to start a war, all you have to do is get me the money I want, and I’ll disappear.”

  Seems too easy.

  But right now, what choice do I have?

  “How much do you want?” I whisper, my hands shaking.

  “Fifty thousand.”

  I swallow.

  I don’t have that much money.

  But...my family does.

  I clench my eyes shut. “How do I know you’re not going to kill him before I even hand that cash over?”

  “He’s alive and well. Aren’t you, Boston?”

  A pained growl passes through the phone, and I know it’s Boston. I’d know that sound anywhere.

  “I swear, if you hurt him...”

  “You’ll do what, exactly?” Enzo laughs. “Both you and I know, I’ve got you on a rope. If you don’t come, I’ll kill Boston and you’ll never be able to live with that. If you tell the club, I’ll kill Boston and you’ll have to live with his death, and a war that’ll be started because of it. So, the way I see it, you only have one choice here, Chantelle. Bring me the money, and you can have your precious Boston back.”

  Dammit.

  God dammit.

  “How long do I have?” I whisper, my voice defeated.

  “Twelve hours.”

  “And where do I bring it?”

  He gives me an address, and I write it down on my phone.

  “I’m serious when I say don’t bring the club, and don’t tell a single soul. If you want this man to live, you’ll do exactly as I’m asking.”

  His voice is full of warning.

  And, I believe him.

  He’s lost his mind.

  He will hurt Boston. I will not let that happen.

  “Are we clear?” he growls.

  “I hear you,” I respond, my voice low.

  “Twelve hours, Chantelle. Get moving.”

  I hang up the phone and stare down at my trembling fingers.

  Twelve hours.

  There is only one person who will be able to give me that kind of cash in twelve hours, and he’s the absolute last person I want to go to. Because I know if I do, there will be something I have to give in return. And it will be something I don’t like.

  But, if I want to save Boston, I have to go to the man I can’t stand.

  My father.

  ~*~*~*~

  NOW – CHANTELLE

  I stand outside the massive company my family runs. The building is tall, huge, and I usually try to avoid it where possible. I haven’t been here for years, I haven’t seen my father, or my other family members, for an equal amount of time. I haven’t wanted to. I didn’t follow their footprints, and so I no longer mean anything to them.

  Cold, heartless bastards that they are.

  It’s taking everything I have, to walk through these front doors. And if it wasn’t for the fact that I love Boston, and I have his baby growing inside me, then I wouldn’t be here at all. I’d do anything to avoid this. Anything I could. But I can’t. I have to, because they’re the only people in the world who can give me what I need, in the time that I need it.

  I thought about going to the club, and coming up with a plan, but my gut told me that would be a really bad idea. Enzo is unstable, and if anything, anything at all, went wrong...I could end Boston’s life. I won’t live with that. And I won’t have it. So, I know my only choice here, is to go this alone. Which is why I’m here, knees shaking, staring at the door like it’s going to launch off and bite me.

  I take a deep breath, then another, and think about Boston and my unborn child. Then, I push the front doors open and walk inside. The receptionist looks up, and blinks. I’m sure she knows who I am. It’s no secret my father has a ‘daughter’ he doesn’t want anything to do with. The one who had it all, and gave it up. They think I’m insane. Most people do.

  I don’t feel that way.

  I’d rather work my entire life and have very little, but know it’s all mine, then to be his little puppet just because it would set me up forever.

  No.

  I’m his daughter, that should have meant enough and it didn’t.

  It never has.

  “Chantelle, I haven’t seen you in a long time,” the receptionist says, her smile wobbly.

  I have no idea who she is, but her face does seem familiar. I tend not to think too much about my life before I went off on my own.

  “Ah, yeah,” I say. “Is my father in?”

  “He is. Do you want me to call him?”

  I nod.

  She picks up the phone, still staring at me, and dials. “Richard, yes...Chantelle is here to see you.”

  She pauses for a moment.

  “Yes, your daughter Chantelle.”

  The urge to roll my eyes is incredibly strong.

  “Well well, the princess returns. We always knew you’d eventually need something.”

  I spin around and see my oldest brother, Kale, staring down at me. If I didn’t know he was such a giant asshole, I’d be taken aback by how striking he has grown in the last few years. He’s filled out, and his dark hair is long and curling around his shoulders. His eyes, the same color as mine, shine amongst his dark skin.

  He’s huge and well built.

  “It’s wonderful to see you too, Kale. Still ruining lives, I imagine?” I throw at him, crossing my arms.

  I don’t want to be here.

  He grins at me. “Something like that.”

  “Your father will see you. You can go up.”

  I nod and walk past Kale, who turns on his heel and follows me.

  “I’m sure dad is going to be excited you’re finally here, no doubt to beg for something.”

  I hate him.

  Asshole.

  Jerkbag.

  “I’m sure he will be,” I throw over my shoulder.

  “How have you been, Chantelle? Clearly life out in the big bad world is not treating you as well as you’d hoped.”

  I grit my teeth together to keep from spinning around and throttling him.

  When that’s what I really, really want to do.

  I want to hurt
him so damned bad.

  I get in the lift, and of course he follows me in. I press the button for the top floor, and refuse to make eye contact.

  “If you think you’re coming into his office with me, you’re sadly mistaken. I don’t need two assholes ruining my day.”

  Kale laughs. “Well, that wouldn’t be any fun, now would it. I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

  I turn around and glare at him. “For someone who was named after a rather disgusting, rather ugly, green vegetable, I wouldn’t be walking around acting like some sort of hero. In fact, if I were you, I’d be seriously considering a name change, perhaps to something more...masculine.”

  He scrunches up his face, but doesn’t say anything.

  Good.

  Asshole.

  I walk out the moment the lift opens, and go straight to the office door. When there, I knock twice.

  “Come in.”

  His voice hasn’t changed, and I shove the door open, slamming it before Kale can step through. Then I proceed to lock it, so he can’t come in. I don’t need an extra audience.

  I turn and glance at my father, who is watching me from his desk. He looks exactly the same as he did years ago. The same dark hair, the same slate grey eyes, the same hard mouth. He’s always been a business man, and it has always come before family. The only reason my mother ever dealt with it, was because she got everything she could ever want for living a miserable and boring life without him in it.

  Because work is his life.

  And nothing else matters.

  “Your son is an incredibly big asshole, and, by memory, I know exactly where he learned that trait.”

  I cross my arms.

  My father smirks.

  “Well, I see your attitude hasn’t changed. Considering you’re here to ask me for something, Chantelle, I’d think you’d at the very least, try and speak like a normal human being.”

  I clench my teeth.

  “Hello, daddy dearest. How have you been the last few years you’ve failed to check on me, your only daughter?”

  His jaw tightens. I just stare, my eyes not wavering. Not that his are, either. Nothing bothers him. Nothing. It used to frustrate the hell out of me. But I don’t care now.

  “What do you want, Chantelle? You’re obviously here for something.”