Me, please. (Iron Fury MC)

by Jewel, Bella

  But deep down, I already know who did this.

  I know.

  I’ve been ignoring his calls. I’ve not been answering when he comes over and bangs on my door. I’ve walked away from his stupid girlfriend when she’s tried to approach me on the street. I’ve made them angry, and I just have an awful feeling they’ve taken matters into their own hands. They’ve decided for themselves what they’re entitled to and have come in and taken it.

  I push the door open and step inside.

  A pained cry leaves my throat, and tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks.

  My home is destroyed.

  Trashed.

  Ruined.

  Everything is upturned, broken, or slashed. Not one single piece of everything I own and love has been left untouched. They’ve destroyed everything. My knees tremble and I grab hold of the door frame to stop myself from going over. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I don’t know if I can stay upright. A pained sob fills the broken room, and with trembling fingers, I pull out my phone.

  I can handle threats.

  I can handle Ashton.

  But this has gone too far.

  I need help.

  “Penny.”

  Boston’s voice comes across as a soothing and welcomed relief.

  It takes me a moment to gather myself and stop my sobbing.

  “Boston,” I croak.

  “What’s wrong? What’s goin’ on?”

  “I ... I need you to come over here.”

  “Where are you? At my house? Yours?”

  “Mine. Please. Hurry.”

  “Coming. Right now.”

  He hangs up the phone and I let it slip from my fingertips. I stare at the ruined mess. I’m insured, of course, but that means little right now. These things, they were special to me. Family heirlooms. Furniture I’ve worked hard for. Special things that mean a whole lot to me. Ashton knows that. He knows me better than anyone. So he knows that doing something like this will utterly destroy me.

  And he’s right.

  I fall to my knees and just stare at the mess.

  He’s probably taken things, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  I have expensive stuff in here, things that he could sell for money.

  But this, the mess in front of me, is an act of cruelty.

  An act I did not deserve.

  I don’t know how long it takes Boston to arrive. I can’t bring myself to get up off my knees. I hear Malakai’s horrified voice first. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

  Then Boston is beside me, squatting down, hand on my chin turning my face up so he can study me. His eyes scan my face, then my body. He’s checking to see if I’m hurt. God dammit, that means so damned much to me. When he’s sure I’m okay, he murmurs, “Who did this?”

  “I don’t ... I don’t know,” I croak. “But I can guess.”

  “Fuck!” he barks, looking around. “God dammit.”

  “It’s all ruined, Boston,” I sob, losing it again. Tears roll down my cheeks in waves. “Everything I’ve worked for. Everything I love. It’s all ruined. Every single piece of it. Even my cushions are slashed.”

  Big strong arms wrap around me, and I’m grateful. So damned grateful. I let him hang onto me for a while, because I need it. When he lets me go, Malakai walks over and kneels down, too. “Is anything missing?”

  I swipe at my eyes. I need to get it together. I need to be strong. For now. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I haven’t gone any further than this.”

  Malakai stands and waves a hand at Mason and Koda. “Go check the rooms. The house. Make sure no fucker is still here.”

  The two men disappear quickly, and Malakai turns back to me. “You got it in you to look around, see if anything is gone? If not, that’s okay. We can lock up and come back.”

  “No,” I say, standing and taking a shaky breath. “No, I can do that.”

  Boston follows me as I start moving through the house. I have a list of items as long as my arm before I even reach my bedroom. Everything expensive I own has been taken. It’s the money I had in my safe, that I’m most concerned about. Now, it seems like such a stupid idea to put anything special in a safe, especially money, but I thought it would be safer with me than in a bank.

  I can be a little strange like that.

  The moment I step into my room, I can see the safe is gone. The whole damned thing. I make a pained sound, and Boston stops beside me. “What’s gone?”

  “My safe.”

  “What was in it?”

  “A good amount of money, jewelry, some expensive watches, special things.”

  “Fuck,” he growls, and grabs my shoulders, spinning me to face him. “Give me anything you can about that piece of shit you once called a husband. We’re goin’ to pay him a little visit.”

  “No,” I cry out quickly. “No, Boston, that’ll just make it worse.”

  He grabs my chin, tipping my head back. “Worse than this?”

  My bottom lip shakes. “You’ll hurt him ...”

  “You’re damn fuckin’ right I’ll hurt him. I’ll make him wish to fuckin’ God he never came anywhere near you. That’s what he deserves. Either tell me, Penelope, or I’ll go and find him without your help.”

  I exhale, because I know he will.

  “Do as he’s askin’, sweetheart,” Malakai says, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Not only does this fucker need to be taught a lesson, but we might be able to salvage some of your things if we get to him in time.”

  Those things are special.

  I want them back.

  So I give them what they need to know.

  We finish up going through the house, and by the time we get back downstairs, Amalie and Scarlett are just walking through the front door. Malakai called them. I can’t say I’m not grateful. I am so incredibly grateful. Amalie rushes over and throws her arms around me. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “If you don’t find that asshole,” Scarlett fumes, glaring around the room, “I will.”

  I love her fighting spirit.

  “You didn’t have to come,” I say to them both, stepping back.

  “Oh, hell yes we did,” Scarlett says, hugging me. “We’ve got your back, Penny. You’re one of us now.”

  “I have nowhere else to go,” I whisper, the sudden realization that my house is utterly trashed and I have no more furniture becoming a harsh reality.

  Sure, the structure itself is fine, but to replace all of this will cost me more than I would have if I worked two years straight. Insurance can take months.

  “Stay at my house,” Boston says, stepping forward. “You can care full time for Cassie, live in.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but Amalie nods. “Wonderful plan. Let’s go and pack whatever we can salvage, and you’ll do that.”

  “I can’t intrude ...” I whisper.

  Boston stares at me. “Not even close to intrudin’, and Cassie loves you. She’ll be more than thrilled, and it’ll mean she always has someone around. Best fuckin’ idea I’ve had.”

  I hold his eyes. “Boston ...”

  He steps forward, curling a hand around the back of my neck, making my skin prickle. God damn, I both hate and love the way he makes me feel. “You’re doin’ it, sweetheart, like it or not.”

  Damn.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Now,” he says, letting me go. “Get what you can. Amalie and Scarlett will take you to my house. The boys and I are goin’ to sort this motherfucker out.”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask him, eyes wide.

  He stares at me. “Make him wish he never fucked with you.”

  And with that, they all leave.

  And I’m left with a gaping heart, and yet an incredible new family I never could have imagined up in my very best dream.

  Yeah.

  I’m grateful for that.

  ~*~*~*~

  NOW – PENELOPE

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Amalie asks, handing
me another glass of wine.

  We’re sitting on Boston’s porch, drinking away the hell of the day. The men still aren’t back yet, and I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. It either means they didn’t find Ashton, or they did and whatever they’re doing to him is making him wish he was never born, quite literally.

  Will it be enough, though, to keep him away?

  Ashton might be messing with drugs, or whatever he’s messing with, but he’s a stubborn man, and he’s proud, and the message he left for me today was very real. It was dark, and it was evil, and it makes me wonder what other lengths he’ll go to to get what he wants. Will the bikers going after him make it worse or better?

  “Maybe I should just give him what he wants,” I say softly.

  Scarlett’s head swivels in my direction. “You will absolutely not give that piece of snot what he wants. Ever.”

  I laugh, it’s soft, but I love her passion. Scarlett isn’t the kind of girl you take on. Probably something to do with her incredible fame, and something she’s been forced to learn over the years, either way, she’s a fighter. Through and through.

  “No, you’re right,” I say, feeling slightly defeated. “I just don’t know that a bunch of bikers paying him a visit is going to stop anything ...”

  “Maybe it won’t,” Amalie says. “But it has to give him a warning, that what he’s doing isn’t going to be tolerated. Right?”

  Yeah.

  I guess so.

  But who knows what Ashton’s mind is like right now? Who knows what kind of person he has turned into. He’s capable of destroying what he knows means the most to me, then he’s capable of a lot more than I could even begin to imagine.

  The front door opens, and all the bikers walk in.

  My eyes immediately go to Boston. He’s got a red, swollen hand, but other than that, he looks fine.

  Does that mean they found Ashton?

  “C’mon, girls,” Malakai says. “Time to go.”

  It’s not an option, but an order. Amalie and Scarlett stand, and both of them look down to me. “It’ll be okay,” Amalie says. “We’re here, no matter what.”

  That feels nice.

  “Thank you.”

  Both of them hug me, the bikers nod at me, and then they’re gone, leaving me alone with Boston. He walks into the kitchen and pulls out a beer, and I move straight to his hand, reaching out for it. He flinches when I touch it but doesn’t pull back. “I guess this means you found him?”

  “Nah, it means I didn’t.”

  I stare up at him for a second. “I’m not following you.”

  “Couldn’t find him. Nobody would tell us where he is. Or his girlfriend. Got fuckin’ angry, punched a wall.”

  I go to the freezer and pull out a frozen bag of peas, carrying it over and placing it on his hand. He goes to pull it back and shake his head, but I give him a stern look. “It’ll stop the swelling and the bruising, stop being so stubborn.”

  He exhales, and I nod to the sofa. He nods, and we both go over, sitting down. I open his beer for him, and he murmurs his thanks. I’m a mixture of a little relieved he didn’t find Ashton, and a little disappointed. I’m not exactly sure why.

  “So, he wasn’t around? That’s not surprising.”

  Boston exhales with an angry growl. “He must have known we would come for him, has to know by now you’re friends with the club. If he’s smart enough to break into your house and do that much damage, he’s smart enough to know what you’re doing.”

  “So he’s done a runner. That might be good, right?”

  “Wrong,” Boston says. “When he can’t be found, we don’t fuckin’ know where he is. He might not be done with you, Penny. He might be just getting started. Malakai got into one of his ‘friends’ and found out he’s dealin’ heavy in the drug world, but not only that, he’s got himself a gamblin’ debt that’s out of this world.”

  Gambling.

  My heart races. The drugs, I suspected. The gambling, I did not. Ashton was always so passionate about gambling; he hated it, he was against it so much that he didn’t even like people talking about it. He wouldn’t even do it for fun. He used to tell me how dangerous it could be, and how it sucks people in. And here he is, sucked in by the one thing he swore would never get him in his life.

  “Girlfriend is an ex-stripper, don’t know if you know that. Guessin’ she has a lot to do with this.”

  That makes me feel ... strange. A little envious, I guess, because of course he’d go for someone with an incredible body and looks. But also incredibly confused. He’s a smart man; how in the hell did he let himself get so tangled up in a mess like this? Does he love her that much? Honestly? That he’d create this life for himself and risk everything?

  “It explains why he’s pressing for money,” I whisper, staring at Boston’s hand that I’m still hanging onto, pressing the cold to his fingers. “I was convinced it was drugs, because of how terrible he looked, but I do admit I was confused he was trying so hard to get money just for drugs. Gambling debt explains it.”

  “He’s sellin’, too. But it obviously isn’t enough. The mess he’s gotten himself into, is deeper than what he can earn from dealin’. Explains why he’s become desperate when it comes to you. You got cash, and he knows it.”

  I say nothing, because, honestly, I don’t really know what to say. I’m shocked, I’m also let down. I never thought he’d intentionally hurt me or come after me. I guess the debt is big, and dangerous, and now he’s trying to bring me into it.

  “If he owes that much, I guess it’s safe to say, him trashing my house isn’t the last I’m going to hear from him.”

  Boston looks to me. “No, I don’t think it is. But know this, I’m goin’ to fuckin’ find him, Penelope. I’m goin’ to find him, and I’m goin’ to crush him.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea ...”

  His eyes hold mine. “You’re part of my family now, it’s a fuckin’ great idea.”

  That makes my heart warm, so warm it expands in my chest. I can’t deny I’ve got feelings for Boston, but I also know I need to keep trying to fight those feelings. Chantelle has them, too, that much is obvious, and I really like her. I know she’s kept her distance, it would be so incredibly unfair of me to swoop in and try and take something that I openly told her I didn’t want.

  “I appreciate it, I really do,” I say, because I do need their help, even I’m not that stubborn. Ashton is playing with fire, and I’m right in the way of his burning arrow. I can’t deal with him on my own, and clearly he’s decided to go through illegal channels, which means there is no point in me trying to keep taking the legal road.

  “What did you see in that fucker?”

  Boston looks to me, and I flush. I hate that question, purely because what Ashton is now, wasn’t always what he was like.

  “He wasn’t always like this. I’m guessing his new girlfriend had a hand in it. Maybe he was in a bad place. I don’t know. I mean, I never thought he’d even go for someone like her, let alone go to such great lengths and risk his life ...”

  “Why?”

  I blink. “Why what?”

  “Why wouldn’t he go for someone like her?”

  “She’s ... I don’t know ... cheap. She’s mouthy. And rude. And he always took pride in going for a woman that was strong, and womanly, and feminine. She’s the opposite to all of that. But, she’s gorgeous, and I guess after me, that’s probably pull enough.”

  Boston is quiet for a moment, and I hate that I said that. I fucking hate it. My deepest insecurities just came flooding out, and poured all over him. I must have sounded like a complete idiot just now. He’s probably thinking of a way to let me down gently.

  “Bullshit.”

  His words come out strong and a little irritated

  “Pardon me?”

  “I said fuckin’ bullshit, Penelope.”

  Crap.

  “You’re honestly goin’ to sit there and tell me tha
t he picked her because she looks like a fuckin’ Barbie doll, and he did that because he was with you for so long?”

  “No offense, Boston, but I’m hardly anything in comparison.”

  “You can’t be fuckin’ serious?”

  He stares at me, horrified.

  “Let’s just—”

  “You’re the fuckin’ sunshine, Penelope. You walk in a room, and it lights up. Your laugh is like a fuckin’ melody. Your skin is as soft as silk. And you’re, without a doubt, one of the most incredibly beautiful women I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on. Not only that, but you’re fuckin’ sweet as hell. There isn’t even a piece of you, that isn’t pure and good.”

  God damn.

  I’m going to cry.

  He moves quickly, reaching over and cupping my cheek. For a second, I don’t know what to do but sit there and stare at him, mouth parted, eyes no doubt glassy. And then, I do something stupid. I lean forward, and I press my lips against his. I’ve wanted to do this, for so long, but I’ve never had the courage. I’ve never been able to find the strength. For a moment, I don’t feel like he’ll kiss me back.

  But he does.

  And when he does, my world stops.

  It just comes to a screeching halt.

  His mouth. His taste. The rough scratching of his two-day growth against my skin.

  It sends me over the edge.

  And I want him. God, do I want him.

  But he pulls back and closes his eyes, jaw tight. “Fuck,” he growls.

  I’m confused.

  He stands up suddenly, running his hands through his hair. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck. I promised myself I wouldn’t, and I’m failin’ in every fuckin’ way it counts.”

  Shame fills me.

  He didn’t want me to kiss him?

  “I’m sorry ...” I stammer. “I shouldn’t have ...”

  He looks to me, eyes fiery. “Kissin’ you was fuckin’ incredible. Do not be sorry. Took everythin’ for me to pull away. But, fuck, it isn’t just about me.”