Iron Fury MC Boxed Set

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Iron Fury MC Boxed Set Page 73

by Bella Jewel

Considering I didn’t do it.

  I didn’t do anything wrong.

  I swear it.

  “Brother, President, respect you for all of those things, Malakai,” Maverick growls, voice low and deadly. “But you ever fuckin’ speak to my woman like that again, and you and I will have a very big fuckin’ problem.”

  Malakai holds Maverick’s eyes, and the two of them stare at each other for a long while. So long, it gets uncomfortable. Finally, Malakai nods. Nothing else. He just nods. Maverick leaves with Scarlett, and I’m left unable to speak, with Mason, Boston, Koda and Malakai.

  I don’t look at any of them.

  Because fuck them. They’ve obviously got their wires crossed, because if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be standing here, looking at me like I’m the worst thing they’ve ever seen. Whatever proof they’ve seen they obviously believe, but it is obviously so far from the truth.

  “Takin’ her with me for a bit, will leave her in the office, locked,” Mason says, walking over and grabbing my arm, hauling me up.

  It isn’t gentle, but it isn’t too rough, either.

  He’s done his dash with me, purely because of the fact that after everything, he hasn’t even bothered to listen to me, to hear me out. Worse, he hasn’t even told me what I’ve done wrong so I, at the very least, have the chance to defend myself.

  I hate him for that.

  Only, I don’t really hate him.

  But I’m so hurt.

  So fucking hurt.

  He pulls me down the hall, and when we reach the office, he opens the door and takes me in, sitting me on a chair before shutting and locking the door. Then he turns and stares at me, for a long moment, those eyes penetrate mine.

  “Don’t know what’s worse, Saskia, the fact that I let you into my home, or the fact that I fuckin’ trusted you.”

  The pain in his voice, it’s actually painful to me.

  Painful as fuck.

  “I told you about my sister, my mother, I fuckin’ confided in you, and you had the nerve to steal from me. Not just shit from around my house, but shit that means the most to me. Shit that I hold so fuckin’ dear.”

  My heart starts pounding. What is he talking about? I wish he’d let me speak.

  “I saw you, so the fact that you can honestly look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t take anything from me, that you did nothing wrong, makes me fuckin’ sick. It makes me sick because I watched you with my own fuckin’ eyes.”

  What?

  He watched me?

  He watched me steal from him.

  It hits me, like a god damned hurricane.

  I can’t believe it has taken me this long to put two and two together. I should have told them from the start. I should have shared the little piece of information that made me so ashamed that I rarely tell people.

  If I had told him. This wouldn’t be happening.

  Because he would know it wasn’t me he saw, in whatever he saw.

  He would know it was Yolanda.

  My sister.

  My twin fucking sister.

  ~20~

  MASON

  I’m fucking hurt.

  Gutted.

  And watching her stare at me, eyes wide, makes it worse. She is honestly acting like she hasn’t done a thing wrong, and that blows my fucking mind. It blows my mind because she’s so easily able to look me in the eye and lie to me.

  And she’s doing it without flinching.

  Like it’s the easiest thing in the world for her.

  And that tells me that the woman I think I know is not real.

  Not even close.

  She’s fake.

  And I can’t handle the fact that I gave her so much and this is how she repays me. All along, I was just a pawn in her fucking game, a way to get her boyfriend out of debt. She had me fooled, hell, he had me fooled. I would have nearly bet on my own mother’s life that Saskia was the most genuine woman I’ve ever met. So fucking real and down to earth, smart and funny, my sassy little thing.

  But I was so far off the mark, and that has never happened to me.

  “You’ve royally fucked me, haven’t you?” I murmur to her, staring into her eyes, she’s struggling behind her gag, but there is no way it’s coming off.

  I have a lot to say to her.

  And for once, I want her to listen.

  And not speak.

  “I trusted you,” I whisper hiss, leaning down closer, looking right into her eyes.

  She is shaking her head, murmuring something behind the gag, but I want no part in what she has to say. Her lies mean nothing to me.

  “I think that’s the worst fuckin’ part,” I growl. “Is that I trusted you. I have never told anyone about my mother, but I told you, and you used it against me, didn’t you? You got me exactly where you needed me and then you took a swipe, right where you knew it would hurt.”

  A tear rolls down her cheek.

  Bullshit.

  “Don’t cry your fuckin’ tears to me, Saskia. They mean fuck-all. You mean fuck-all. You’re a lying, manipulative bitch. I regret the day I fuckin’ met you, but know this, I will get back everythin’ that’s mine, includin’ the piece of my fuckin’ heart you stomped all over.”

  She’s crying now, shaking her head, but fuck her.

  This is exactly why I don’t allow myself to feel or get attached to another human being, because this is how it ends. It’s how it always fucking ends.

  In hurt.

  And betrayal.

  And a loss in your fucking chest that you can’t seem to get back, no matter how hard you try and fill the hole left there.

  It’s left forever gaping, forever scarred until, eventually, your heart is nothing but a giant fucking hole.

  And you no longer have anything to give.

  ~*~*~*~

  SASKIA

  It hurts.

  Like hell.

  Seeing him in pain. Seeing him staring at me like I’ve just ruined any last part of good left in him, like I’ve taken away every ounce of trust and ruined it, forever scarring an already broken man.

  If only he’d hear me out.

  If only he’d just listen.

  I’m fighting against myself, watching him talk. Fighting against my anger and my feelings for him.

  My feelings for him make me want to prove my sister did this, that it wasn’t me, to show him I’d never be the monster he’s accusing me of being.

  But the anger in me is so horrified that, for even a second, he could think so low of me. Don’t get me wrong, I understand he saw what he saw and there really is no explanation for that. As far as he knows, it was me, but it doesn’t matter. Logic is gone, and I’m angry.

  Angry that he didn’t even give me a chance.

  And calling me names. That makes me want to pummel my fists into his chest over and over until it burns and aches, so he knows how it feels every time he calls me a name.

  Like a blow to the damned heart.

  Once he’s done saying what it is he has to say, he turns and walks out, slamming the door and leaving me alone, bound and gagged. I have no idea what they’re going to do with me. I am almost certain they won’t hurt me, but you can still treat someone extremely poorly and break their spirit without actually physically hurting them.

  I close my eyes, and another tear squeezes out and runs down my cheek. I hate this feeling. I thought it hurt when Enzo slept with my sister, but this, gosh this feels like it hurts so much more. I didn’t realize, until I saw the pain and betrayal in Mason’s eyes, just how much I was starting to grow an attachment to him.

  I have feelings, there is no denying that.

  The door opens, and I glance up expecting to see Mason, or one of the other bikers, coming in, but instead I see Scarlett and Amalie. They slip through the door and close it quietly, then both of them stare at me. Scarlett comes over and unties the gag from my mouth, and I flex my jaw, grateful to be freed of it.

  “I saw the video tape,” she whispers, betrayal
in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say to you, Saskia. I really liked you, I thought—”

  “I have a twin sister,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I clear it.

  Scarlett blinks. “Pardon me?”

  “The sister, who slept with Enzo, she is my twin. I never told anyone, because, well, I was ashamed. She’s half of me. Cut from the same cloth. I was embarrassed and ashamed, so I left that part out. If you don’t believe me, go and find my phone, or better yet, look her up on Facebook right now on your own phone.”

  Scarlett hesitates but pulls out her phone. That kind of hurts, because she doesn’t fully believe me. If she did, she wouldn’t check. Minute by minute, my heart is closing off. I’m hurt that nobody has any faith in me. Really, maybe unfairly, hurt. I mutter Yolanda’s profile name, and Scarlett looks it up.

  There is a photo of the both of us on there, that should be enough proof. We’re identical in every way, she even enjoys making her hair look just like mine to spite me. She’s always done it, and I hate it.

  “Oh,” Scarlett whispers. “You two are …”

  “Identical, yes,” I mutter. “And I’m telling you, it was not me who stole from Mason. I have no idea how she did it, but I would never do something so … cruel.”

  “Oh,” Scarlett says, looking up at me. “Why didn’t you just say something?”

  “Because until a few minutes ago, I didn’t put two and two together. I didn’t honestly know what he was accusing me of, and then I realized when he said he saw me stealing, that I couldn’t deny it, and I knew, I knew straight away. Yolanda. Of course she would do something like that. Enzo couldn’t get what he wanted from me, it’s the perfect plan, considering she looks just like me. I just don’t know how she got …”

  The car accident, I left the front door open.

  I close my eyes and exhale. But then how did she know the safe code? Unless …

  “Oh, god,” I whisper.

  “What is it?” Amalie asks.

  “It wasn’t just my sister, it was Mason’s sister, too,” I say, clenching my eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths. “I’m so incredibly stupid.”

  “Explain,” Scarlett says, kneeling in front of me. “What happened, every detail.”

  “Mason’s sister ‘crashed’ her car right outside of his house. I went running out, didn’t think, left the door open. I had to escort her to the hospital, which she not once protested about, and of course she didn’t, it was a freaking set up. She wants Mason’s mother’s jewelry, and Yolanda wants money. The two of them met one night out front of Mason’s house; obviously they decided to come up with a plan to take what they both thought they deserved. Yolanda probably got told she’d get a cut, and it’s a genius plan, really. She just had to go into the house, looking exactly like me, nobody would even question it. If someone did happen to be there, they wouldn’t think twice. Theresa would have given her the safe code …”

  “Oh. My. God,” Scarlett whispers. “Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get more fucked up. I’m going to call Mason in here, you need to tell him and—”

  “No,” I snap. “No. He tied me up and never gave me a chance. No. I am not explaining shit to him. What I am going to do is go and find my sister and get back what belongs to him and then get on with my damned life.”

  Amalie’s face goes soft as she joins Scarlett. “I saw the video tape. She looks exactly like you. It’s hard to be able to explain that away in your head, you have to know that, honey. What he saw was you.”

  Shame punches me in the chest for being so upset, but I can’t help it. I’m hurt. So hurt.

  “Yeah, maybe so, but the way he’s treated me, I didn’t deserve that. I’ll tell him, when I go and get her and drag her sorry ass back here. But you need to let me go so I can do that. I know where she is. I need to sort her out once and for all, because this time, she’s taken to trying to destroy my life way too seriously.”

  Scarlett hesitates, and I look her in the eyes. “I’m not a liar, Scarlett. If you think I’m going to do a runner, and that I really have the jewelry, then you can come with me. You can come along and follow me every step of the way. But she is not getting away with this. Not anymore. She’s ruined my life enough.”

  Scarlett reaches out, key in hand, and uncuffs me. “I saw Mason put these down, he doesn’t know I have them,” she explains, releasing me. “And I do trust you. Fully. Go and find your sister, and I’ll tell them I let you go.”

  I stand, flexing my aching wrists. “Just don’t tell them why. I’m going to bring her in here, and I want them to see also just how wrong they’ve been.”

  Scarlett nods. “Okay.”

  “Thank you,” I say to both of them. “For believing in me.”

  Scarlett steps forward when I stand and hugs me. “I trust my gut, and my gut told me there was something off. You’re not a thief, Saskia. Not even close.”

  So, if Scarlett could believe me, or even feel slightly off, then how in the hell didn’t Mason?

  I get it. He saw it clear as day.

  But did he, not even for a second, after everything we’ve been through, think that maybe something wasn’t quite right?

  That something didn’t add up?

  Anything?

  Anything at all?

  ~21~

  SASKIA

  Scarlett manages to get me out of the clubhouse using a back door and a back gate. She assures me she’ll deal with Malakai and Mason and will come up with something. I tell her I’ll find Yolanda and get her here as soon as possible to prove to everyone just how wrong they are. And then I flag down a cab and take it straight to my sister’s apartment.

  When I arrive, I use some leftover cash I had in my pocket from earlier to pay the man, who looks at me with an expression that says he was doubting if I had the money or not.

  I scowl at him, and then I walk up to the front door. I bang on it at least five times, but no one answers. No. She’s not getting away that easily. Not today. Not ever. I can deal with a lot, what I can’t deal with is her purposefully putting me in danger. She’s my sister, and as little as that clearly means to her, should mean at least enough that she doesn’t try and actually get me hurt.

  If those bikers were any less than they are, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.

  I’d probably be being tortured. All because of her. A girl who is supposed to call herself my sister.

  I bang and bang, but no answer. Frustrated, I decide to try and open the door, but it’s locked. She isn’t here, of course she isn’t. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to find a way to get in, because dammit, don’t mess with a pissed off Saskia. She cost me the man I was falling for, the club’s respect, and put me in danger. I walk around the side of her house and check every window.

  Stupid girl left the bedroom window slightly cracked. Grinning, I push it open with a good deal of effort. No wonder she left it cracked, it’s half seized. She probably didn’t bother to even try and unsieze it for her own safety. Fine by me. I’m going to see if she was also stupid enough to leave anything in there that I can give back to Mason. Probably not, considering she’s money hungry. She’s probably already on her way to exchange it for cash, which terrifies me.

  Because then I might not be able to get it back.

  I climb into the window and land on the faded yellow carpet. I’ve only been in this house once to help her move in six years ago when things were bad but not awful. I was trying back then, still trying to see the good, still trying to be a sister and have some sort of relationship with her, but it was as close to useless as could be. So, I gave up, because, well I guess I’m selfish like that at times.

  I’m not going to put in effort where effort is not wanted.

  Not considering there are a thousand people in the world that could use that effort.

  And she is not one of them.

  I walk into her room farther and scrunch up my nose at the mess strewn about everywhere. It’s scattered all over the floor,
clothes and shoes, both clean and dirty. It stinks in here. How can she live like this? Worse, how does she expect to attempt to raise a child in this? It’s despicable.

  I kick the clothes around, and then I start digging around, looking through drawers, under her mattress, anywhere I can think that she might hide something valuable. But then I think, my sister is stupid, she’d likely Google where to hide something before actually using her brain. I think about suggestions Google might offer, such as the freezer, and make my way to the kitchen and start digging around there.

  Nothing.

  I think harder. If I had my phone, I’d Google it myself, but I don’t, so I have to think of the kind of places they suggest to hide things where a thief would not look. I go to the pantry and start emptying out the contents of plastic containers, tipping pasta and rice all over the floor, and then, it comes out. It’s the coffee container sitting at the back, filled with coffee. I tip it out, not giving a crap about the mess I’m making, and out comes three rings and a necklace. I drop the container and reach down, picking it up.

  These are expensive, no doubt about it. One of the diamonds is huge. It would be worth a shit load of cash, and that’s just for that one. Everything in my hand right now is worth something. My blood boils, and I’m horrified, horrified to call her my sister. Who steals something so valuable to make money? No wonder Mason was so angry. God, I’m furious and it has no meaning to me.

  I tuck the jewelry in my pocket, and I turn and walk straight out the front door, leaving it wide open.

  She wants to mess with me, and hell, I can mess back so much harder.

  So. Much. Fucking. Harder.

  ~*~*~*~

  MASON

  “Where the fuck is she, Scarlett?” I growl, furious, hands clenched.

  Scarlett shrugs. “She said she had something to prove to you, and I believe her, so I let her go.”

  “She ain’t comin’ back. Fuck, she’s goin’ to do a runner and I’ll never get my mom’s stuff back. Don’t you fuckin’ see what you’ve done?”

  Scarlett crosses her arms, holding my eyes. I want to strangle her.

 

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