Iron: Blue Collar Wolves #1 (Mating Season Collection)

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Iron: Blue Collar Wolves #1 (Mating Season Collection) Page 5

by Winters, Ronin


  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Iron had just downed his sixth shot of whiskey when Steel came through the door, the alpha looking wired and fidgeting in a way that suggested something extreme going down. Beta instincts overrode Iron’s own misery, straightening his back and clearing his head. “Alpha?”

  Steel was looking at the collection of broken furniture and glass shards that littered the inside of the bar, but at Iron’s tone, Steel’s head snapped to him, and as if he understood Iron’s question, the man gave a shake of his head, taking a deep breath and visibly relaxing himself. Not back to his usual level of unflappable, but it brought Iron down from the worry over the pack—

  —and back to his own misery.

  Fuck it. Who cared if the pack was going to shit? Not like he had anything to protect within it. Iron brought the whiskey bottle to his mouth and took a long swig.

  Steel had come down enough from whatever he was hopped on to crouch in front of Iron. Didn’t say anything, just stared, as though that stare could break through Iron’s brain and root around in the crap to be found there.

  Iron broke the tense stand-off. “You mainlining something, man? Sit the fuck down and quit looking deep into my eyes like you want to be my girlfriend.”

  “If we get together, I’m going to be the fucking decorator.” Steel sat on the floor, one knee bent in front of him. “What happened?”

  Iron shrugged. “Made love to Bella, and it all went to hell, just like I knew it would.”

  “Do you wanna expand on that a bit?”

  Not really. Partly to avoid answering, Iron took Steel in from head to toe, and then almost wished he didn’t. Steel looked like shit – worse than Iron imagined himself looking. Some serious crap was going down right now, whether Steel admitted it or not. Probably why it took him so long to get to the bar. Someone had to have gotten in contact with him the minute he challenged the younger wolf. Normally Steel would have been here before the fight even ended.

  Iron held out the whiskey bottle to Steel, and Steel grabbed it, took his own big swig, several long gulps the same way a half-drowned man gulped air. “Why you worrying about my problems when you got your own?”

  Steel didn’t play stupid, asking what Iron meant. Instead, he handed the bottle back to the beta. “Your problems are easy. Mine are fucked.”

  “Don’t feel easy to me.”

  “It’s not ’cause they’re hard. It’s ’cause you let history rule your life. Always looking back, that’s you.”

  The liquor dulled the physical side of the anger. It still boiled, but instead of the desire to get up and punch, well, Iron much rather have another drink. “Rather poetic.”

  “Regular Shakespeare, that’s me.”

  “Glad we got that straight.”

  His dad’s bar was wrecked, the carnage surrounding them like so much flotsam. He’d destroyed it, this place which was more home than home. He’d come here to escape the outside world – the fights, and the silence which was worse than the fights. Escape non-pack, who all of them had been taught to keep far away from, because no one could know their secrets. Escape the fact his life was set, and the one person he wanted beside him was destined for greater things than being a fucking bar owner’s wife with a houseful of kids, living far away from everything fine and fancy.

  “Bella knows everything.” Iron glanced at Steel, who was currently looking at his boots, bangs hiding his eyes and his index finger twitching against the denim of his jeans. The alpha didn’t start. He didn’t move. He didn’t do a goddamn thing, so Iron picked up a thick tumbler that lay next to him and chucked it at the alpha’s head.

  That had Steel moving, swatting away the flying object. “Don’t start with me.”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Is my ass sitting on the cold floor amidst the rubble just so I can deal with your shit instead of being out there dealing with pack shit or my own? ’Course I heard what you said.”

  “And?”

  “And what? What do you want me to say? I always figured she knew, between her and Mel and the two of yous connection. Woman ain’t dumb.”

  Life would be a hell of a lot easier if Bella was dumb. He wouldn’t be smitten with a dumb Bella. No, he loved how she took over a room and owned it, and left poor saps standing around with their mouths hanging open, wondering what the fuck just happened. “Fuck no, she’s the smartest fucking person in the room.”

  “Then why are you surprised she knows?”

  Iron pulled up his knees and leaned forward, his forearms heavy against his thighs. “A smart person should get the fuck away if they know.”

  “Not every smart woman is your mom.”

  The air went heavy, thick, impossible to move or breathe, holding Iron down in a blanket of metal. His once-safe haven was a holding cell, all safety within as destroyed as the mirror behind the bar.

  The sounds of movement came from where Steel sat, creaks and groans that spoke of the alpha rising, stepping away. “What is it you really think, about Bella?”

  “She’s too fucking good for this life and too good for me.”

  A deep sigh came from Steel’s direction, where Iron refused to look, would not look. Bone-weary and as broken as this bar. “This is the last I’ll ever say anything about this. I told you, it’s your life. The big decisions, they’re on you. But I will say this. You’ve known your true mate since first grade. She’s gorgeous, she’s sexy as hell, for some reason she’s head over heels for your dumb ass, and you don’t even have to worry about breaking to her what we are – she knows.”

  The crunch of boots as Steel stepped closer, and his alpha’s hand came down on Iron’s shoulder, fingers digging deep, anger mixing with compassion in that grip, some fucked-up meeting of warning and sympathy. “Your family situation sucked, and I’m sorry. You deserved better. But you using it to justify destroying everything possible and good in your life is fucking stupid, and I’m not going to back you on it, and I’m not going to sympathize with you over it. Some of us would sacrifice our souls to have it as good as you. Damn right, Bella’s too good for you. But she hasn’t figured it out in twenty years, and she’s never going to figure it out, because the one area that woman is dumb in is you. So get on your fucking knees to thank God for what He’s given you, then get your ass to her apartment and go down on your knees again for a different type of thanks. And claim your woman.”

  Now the footsteps retreated, the heavy thuds sounded a little fainter with each step, the low swoosh of fabric signaled a jacket being put on. “Do what’s best, or do your fucked-up version of what’s best – I don’t care. But don’t come to me with this shit again, and don’t expect me to ever feel sorry for you after this if you make the unforgivable mistake of letting her go.” And the door slammed shut.

  The whiskey bottle was empty. It landed with a heavy thud against the wall, and Iron pressed his head back against the bar.

  All these years, worried, wrestling with questions and doubts, trying to do the right thing, and she knew. She’d always known.

  Yeah, but she didn’t really know. That was the rub, wasn’t it? She knew about shifting and the pack, which, yeah, was huge, life-changing news sure. But what she didn’t know? The isolation. Living on the fringes. Always protecting yourself and the pack. Always keeping your head down. Never letting the spotlight fall on you.

  Bella was made for the spotlight. Nothing shone brighter than she did. She was a force of will contained by sinful curves, and by loving her, mating her, he was going to damn her to the shadows.

  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

  He was too tired for this shit. He wanted home. A bed that smelled like Bella, where he could spend at least one last night surrounded by her scent. What he wanted…

  Why the fuck did he even bother to want things? It never ended up happening anyway.

  Tired and stooped like an old man, he made his way out of the bar, to his car and to home, and if he could sl
eep for the next seventy-two hours, that wouldn’t be so bad.

  “Thought you’d never get back.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  Bella was a living wet dream, gorgeous and sleepy-eyed, curled up on his chair like she belonged there, in tight jeans and a shirt that was falling off her shoulder, exposing the line of her throat where his mating bite would go.

  He couldn’t deal with this. Not right now, after what happened at the bar. “Why are you here?” he asked as he hung up his coat, keeping his eyes from her.

  Bella said nothing. After several moments of quiet, Iron’s resolve wavered, and he glanced back at her.

  She was still sitting there, but once she had his attention again she stood and started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What I should have done in high school.” Button by button, her shirt fell open, inch by delicious inch of her tanned skin coming into view bit by bit. “I was waiting for you to get over this stupid, pig-headed nobility thing you got going. I was wrong to wait instead of forcing the issue.”

  “Stop that.” They were the last words he ever wanted to utter in this lifetime, but he forced them past his lips, and when she didn’t listen he stepped toward her and took her hands in his. It forced them to stop, but it had the unfortunate side effect of now putting her warm silky skin within his grasp.

  Somehow this was not better.

  Her mouth set into the mulish line he knew well. “You’re the only one allowed to act like they’re three and throw tantrums?”

  “I don’t throw tantrums.”

  “What was that at the bar?” Challenge laced every line of her body and curled around each word. “It was you lashing out at me because you were scared, and you needed to get your way. You were a jackass of the highest order, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, well…” Not that he could argue that. If nothing else, Steel sure as fuck set him straight there. Time to change tactics. “I’m not up for this now, Bella.”

  “Then when do you want to talk? After you mate Laura? Or how about after I fuck Sam?”

  That tore the growl from his throat, had him baring his teeth in full aggressive display. “You’re going to talk about fucking another man right after telling me you want to be my mate.”

  “No, I’m talking about fucking another man after you refused to mate me. Who do you think I am? Do you think I’m going to be one of those women who pine for the rest of their lives because the guy they love doesn’t want to stay with them? I don’t know if you caught the memo, but-” and Bella used her hands to gesture up and down her body. “That’s not me. I’m not holding my life up for anything.”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Me holding up your life.”

  Confusion began to creep over her face, flitting into corners to mix with the anger. “Iron, you need to answer a question. Do you love me as much as I love you?”

  Evasion. He let go of her hands, only for her to wrap hers around his wrists. “That’s not the point-.”

  “That’s not an answer. I asked a question.”

  No way he could lie. No way he could deny her to her face. He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again, and the words that poured forth weren’t what he planned, weren’t what he wanted, but they couldn’t be stopped. “My dad. I’ll…uh – My mom was his true mate. He was a high-school dropout opening a bar, and she was entering law school. She was going to be a prosecuting attorney. Before my dad…she was going to be a lot of things.”

  *

  Iron was a broken thing. Small, even though he towered over her, his face lined with the weight of family secrets. Bella curled her fingers around his wrist, pushing as much emotion as she could through that small touch, the only thing she would allow, because she did not want to interrupt what might be her only chance to see inside his head, the thoughts that had kept them separated for so many years.

  “You know what it means when someone is a true mate, right?” he asked, pausing to see her answer. Bella nodded, not wanting to speak. A perfect match. The person meant for you. She had cried when her grandma had explained it to her, making her wish she’d been able to feel it. Maybe she did, in her own way. She’d never wanted anyone but Iron, a surety in her heart, but it wasn’t choirs of angels singing or a ray of sunshine spotlighting the other person. It was bone-deep rightness and a contentment that, no matter what else she accomplished, she only felt with Iron. Then again, maybe that was enough.

  He continued. “True mates, they feel drawn to each other, like the world’s most right when they’re together. But true mates aren’t set. It won’t kill you or cripple you if you walk away, and my mom, she didn’t want pack life. She wanted her career, and she didn’t want kids, and she wanted to be in the thick of things. She liked my dad, but she told him she wasn’t mating him.”

  Iron was rigid, so hard that if anything were to hit him right now, it would break on him. There was no doubt what came next, but though her heart ached to spare him, he needed to finish. They needed this, because there was no moving forward if he didn’t speak the words. So she asked what needed to be asked. “What happened?”

  His eyelids lowered, and sorrow descended over the planes of his features. His voice was a hollow shell as he spoke. “He claimed her against her will. Back then, it was acceptable, or at least tolerated, to take a mate that way. It’s only been recent where that’s changed. My kind is almost extinct, and pack tended to turn a blind eye if it meant another generation. Our pack now would never tolerate that, but…” He trailed off, turning his face from her, his jaw clenching hard as he jerked away, keeping a physical distance.

  Her memories of Iron’s mother were hazy. The woman died in a car accident not long after they all met in first-grade, and it was only later that Bella was old enough to piece together the fact the woman was drunk driving, and that maybe it wasn’t as much of an accident as some would have wished. Bella only had a few remembrances of the woman – her jerking back when her son reached for her, arms always wrapped around her waist, a never-smiling face, and a degree on the wall with a woman’s name on it. That same degree had been the catalyst to Bella’s own dream of getting into medicine, had proven to her she could do it. If Iron’s mom could do it, she could too.

  I’m going to be a doctor.

  After Bella made the announcement, she had looked at Iron, because his was the only reaction she cared about. On his face was the biggest smile she had ever seen from him, and when she took a step towards him, he took a step back.

  “Iron.” And now, she reached for him again. Reached to put her hands on his face, caress her thumb over the thick line of his eyebrow and down the smooth glide of his cheek. “We aren’t them.”

  “I know, I’ve already been told. You’re not like my mom.”

  “No.” She pulled him closer, brought him down so she could smell him, take comfort in him. “You aren’t your dad.”

  His eyes snapped open, twice their usual size as his mouth opened, little jerks as it formed words never to be said.

  Digging her nails into the back of his neck, she pressed her forehead against his. “You aren’t your dad. You could not force your will on me. You never have. You’ve always been my biggest supporter. You’ve always stood by me when even my own family would have turned away. And for twenty years, you have denied yourself your mate because you didn’t think a life with you was what was best for me. So let me repeat this – you are not your dad.”

  His breath was choppy as it hit her face, little gasps coming from his mouth, and on his face was war, the battle he’d been fighting his entire life playing out before her.

  It was victory and surrender when he broke down, gathering her in his arms as his chest jerked and his breathing became choppy. He held her close, not allowing her to look at him. “I loved him.” The confession was torn from him in a voice that sounded as if it had gargled broken glass. “He was my dad. God forgive me, I loved him more than I loved my mo
m.”

  Bella snuggled her cheek against his, ignoring the moisture that now coated her own. “Of course you did. No father could have cared for a son more than he cared for you, and your mom, well, no matter how you might understand, it doesn’t change the hurt that she wasn’t there for you.”

  He nodded, burrowing deeper into her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against him hard enough to leave indents where her buttons met his chest. He stood, rocking her, holding her, little puffs of breath, little sobs against her skin, and all the while she was so tight against him she doubted God above could make him let her go.

  Time lost meaning as she stroked him, spoke small, loving words that were more for the sound of her voice than any information imparted. Time was useless, and he took all that he needed, staying in her arms until every last sigh was finished.

  He pulled back. Gave a small laugh. Looked away, as if by doing that she wouldn’t notice the hand he ran over his face. “Interesting way to end the night, huh?” he asked in a voice not quite yet steady.

  “I’ve never had better,” and he gave her a tender look, his eyes soft and grateful on hers.

  He took a deep breath. Exhaled sharply. “What now?”

  “Now? Now we decide.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, because even as gratitude filled her for Iron sharing with her, this next step was it. All in, and while part of her wanted to step away, to let tonight’s revelation convince her to give things more time, that couldn’t happen. It was true two days ago, and it was still true now. This was the intersection of their relationship, and a path needed to be taken. “I love you, and I always have. It hasn’t faded ever, and it’s not going to. I know exactly what it means to be the mate of a werewolf and to be a member of the pack – at least, as much as someone can know looking in from the outside – and I want that with you.”

  Iron stuffed his hands into his pockets, and the play of emotions running across his face went too fast for her to get a grasp on what thoughts held the deepest part of his brain.

 

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