Darkest Hour (Iron Fury MC Book 3)

by Bella Jewel

  I hated that laugh as a child.

  I hate it more, now.

  “Oh, Charlene, how stupid you are. You can run your mouth, but it doesn’t make you any less pathetic then you were as a little girl. Pathetic, and weak, and I’m going to make you wish you were never born.”

  “Oh, but you’ve already done that. I wish that every day, and yet here I am, still here, still stuck with the horror of being your blood. So, go your hardest. Do what you need to. I’m not here to bow down to you anymore.”

  He grabs my chin, just like he used to, only this time he does it hard. So hard I can’t pull away, though you can guarantee I try. I scowl at him, trying to hide the wince because of the pain radiating through my face. “Be very fucking careful. I spent ten years in prison, because of your mistake, little girl. You can rest assured, I’m going to make you pay for that, in the worst ways possible.”

  He looks past me, at the five other men in the room, and smiles. “You think I can’t break you? But my dear, I can. All these men, they’ve been without a woman for a good long while. I wonder how they’ll enjoy taking turns of this plump little body of yours?”

  Fear radiates through my chest.

  He’s hitting me right where he knows it will hurt.

  Of course I under estimated him, that was always my mistake.

  He was always one step ahead. Torture, killing, of course he wasn’t going to use those.

  He knows what happened to me as a child, which means he knows exactly how to hit my weakest parts.

  But, I will never, ever show him fear again.

  I hold his eyes and murmurs, “Sounds wonderful.”

  For a moment, his eyes flash with confusion. It’s brief, but it’s there. The satisfaction I get, from seeing that, makes courage expand in my chest. He’s not going to wear me down. I’m stronger than anything he can dish out. Even if inside, my body is screaming at me to run away, and fear is clawing at my heart, trying to get in.

  He won’t see that.

  “Very well, let us see how long it takes you to drop this little act, and beg for mercy. I don’t imagine it’ll be long.”

  He lets me go and raises a hand, clicking his fingers. “Take her to the basement, do whatever you want to her, I’ll be down shortly.”

  The two men holding me hand me over to three others, who all have filthy grins on their faces.

  “But first,” Shanks says. “Before you have fun with her. Make her suffer. Make her burn. Make her hurt. Do as much damage on the outside as you can, then you can enjoy the inside.”

  I grit my teeth, and my skin prickles, because I know that whatever I’m about to face, it’s not going to be nice.

  No.

  It’s going to be awful, and horrible, and the worst thing I’ve ever endured in my life.

  The monster is finally going to dig his teeth in.

  And tear my soul out once and for all.

  ~*~*~*~

  NOW – CHARLIE

  There’s pain.

  And then there’s agony.

  Pain, you can deal with. You can grit your teeth and handle it. You can take something to ease it. You can find a way around it.

  Agony isn’t the same. Agony is brutal, and bone deep, and no matter what you do you can’t escape. It wraps its claws around you, and makes it hurt even more, especially if you struggle.

  That’s what I feel right now.

  Agony.

  Pure agony.

  I stopped screaming half an hour ago, when they dropped me to the floor, broken and bloodied. When my father stood by, delivering one last kick to my no doubt broken ribs, and promised they’d be back soon to finish me off. He is actually going to let them have sex with me, before he kills me.

  The sick bastard.

  As if beating me until I’m nearly dead isn’t enough.

  And that’s how I feel right now, bordering death. Walking on the edge. Ready to jump in.

  I’ve been punched, kicked, thrown, smashed against walls, had my hair ripped so hard my skull burns, and anything else horrible they could manage to do without weapons. My father promised a grand ending, though. Fingers and toes removed, fucked until I’m dead in the mind, and then he’ll kill me.

  The sick fucking monster.

  I roll to my side and spit out the blood filling my mouth.

  I don’t think I can move, I honestly don’t.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been laying here, it feels like they only just left but I know they didn’t. It’s been a few hours. They’ll be back soon, to finish the job. And there is little I can do about it.

  I can’t fight anymore.

  I fought before, though. I fought and clawed and kicked and punched. It was useless, and it only made them angrier, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Not me.

  Not Charlie.

  The door opens, and I can’t even lift my head to see who it is, I want to, but I can’t.

  I can’t feel anything anymore.

  “Well, not so mouthy now, are you?”

  It’s one of his men. I don’t know which one. I don’t care.

  “Your father sent us in here, to have our fun before he ends you. Which one of you boys wants to go first?”

  No.

  God.

  No.

  Not while I can’t even fight.

  I’d rather die the most painful death, then to have someone violate me when I can’t do anything to stop it.

  A hand goes to my pants, and starts tugging them down. Another fondles my broken breast. I try to slap them away, but my body won’t move, no matter how hard I beg it to.

  “Sweet little body, should have fucked her before he made her look like this.”

  “I don’t know, I like a bit of blood. I’ll like it even more if she screams while I fuck her.”

  God.

  Please help me.

  “Out.”

  The words come from a familiar voice, and for a second, I try to figure out who it belongs to.

  “Shanks sent us in here to...”

  “He just told me it’s my turn first, now get the fuck out before I tell him you’re arguing with me.”

  The hands that were groping my body leave it, and I hear a few muttered curse words before the door slams. I roll to my side and look over, and through my hazy vision I see Slater. And my heart swells.

  Slater.

  I forgot about Slater.

  He comes and kneels down by my side, lifting my head into his hands. “Fuck. Charlie.”

  “Slater,” I croak.

  “Goin’ to get you out of here, but you have to do everything I say, ok? Got Koda waiting, we’ll get you safe, and to a hospital.”

  Koda?

  He’s waiting?

  Pain curls in my heart, but I push it back.

  I have to get out of here.

  So for now, I have to focus.

  -24-

  NOW – CHARLIE

  “You have to scream, Charlie, like I’m in here hurting you. If you don’t, he’ll get suspicious,” Slater tells me, pulling me to my feet.

  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.

  He 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 t
ook 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.