“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.
“I believe her, Mason, and soon, you will, too.”
“If she gets away with this, you’re goin’ to suffer, I don’t fuckin’ care whose old lady you are.”
“Calm it,” Maverick growls. “Be very fuckin’ careful, Mason. I respect you’re angry, but you will not threaten my woman.”
I spin around. “She let her go. Fuckin’ let her go.”
“And she’s goin’ to suffer for that, but at my hand, not yours.”
Scarlett snorts and Maverick glares at her. The sarcastic expression is quickly wiped from her face, and she gets serious. “I promise you, I promise, that you’ll see why I’ve done this, soon. And I promise you’ll thank me. You’re going to have to trust me, and if you don’t trust me, you’re going to have to wait and just see ...”
I turn around. I can’t deal with her shit anymore.
“Saskia will go and get her shit, I can almost guarantee it. I’m goin’ there, I’m not lettin’ he
r get away with this shit.”
“Mason,” Malakai says, having been quiet up until this point, no doubt bitterly fucking disappointed.
“What?” I growl.
“You’re angry but use your head. Yeah?”
I stare at him, and out of pure respect for him, I mutter, “Yeah.”
Then, I go out and get on my bike, and I ride home.
She’s not getting away from me.
Fuck no.
Not this time.
It takes me a solid ten minutes to get home, even though I ride like I’m out to murder someone. When I get to my place, nobody is there. No car, the door is locked. Fucking furious, I turn around to get back on my bike when a cab rolls in. Saskia gets out, and my eyes connect with hers in a furious rage. The cab driver pulls out, and I storm over, not giving her a chance to speak.
“You have some fuckin’ nerve comin’ here, after everythin’ you’ve done.”
She stares up at me, but I’m too wild to think. I want to make her suffer. I want to hurt her. And yet at the same time, seeing her standing in front of me, looking up at me, I want her. I want her so fucking bad it hurts. I grab hold of her shoulders and she squeaks, “Mason ...”
“Don’t fuckin’ speak,” I growl.
She looks up at me, lips parted, and fuck, I don’t know what happens. I’m so wild, but I can’t stop myself. I slam my mouth against hers. She responds, instantly, and I back her up to the front of the house until her back hits the railing. I grab her leg, pushing it up around my waist, and kiss her hard, furious, I want to hurt her, I want to make her suffer.
“I want to fuckin’ hurt you, so fuckin’ bad.”
“Then hurt me,” she challenges. “Hurt me. Make me suffer.”
“You’re fuckin’ nothin’ to me,” I hiss, grabbing her hair, tipping her head back. “Nothin’.”
“And you’re fucking nothing to me,” she says, staring at my mouth. “Now. Make. It. Hurt.”
I shove her shorts down and dive straight in, shoving two fingers inside her. She gasps, and then moans, deep and low. She flinches backward a little, unlike how she usually responds when my fingers are inside her, but she doesn’t stop me. She wouldn’t want to dare. I’m going to fuck her until she never forgets my name.
“You betrayed me,” I bark, thrusting my fingers into her pussy. “You hurt me.”
“I did what I had to do,” she pants, tipping her head back. “For him.”
Bitch.
Fucking bitch.
“All for that stupid motherfucker. I shared everythin’ with you, fuckin’ everythin’. And this is what I get?”
“A girl has to do what a girl has to do,” she says, but something stops me, I don’t know what it is, but it ... just doesn’t sound right.
I pull back and stare down at her, really stare down at her. My fingers are still gliding in and out of her pussy, but something in my chest is screaming at me that something is off. Saskia is ballsy, but she’s flat out denied her involvement to the point she ran, and now she’s speaking like ... trash.
She doesn’t speak like trash.
Is she high?
Is she fucking using herself?
Something is different about her eyes.
I pull my fingers out of her pussy just as I hear, “Mason?”
That voice.
What. The. Fuck.
I turn and see ... Saskia ... What the hell? I glance back at the girl staring up at me, now grinning, and then look back at the girl that is standing about five yards away, a girl I didn’t hear come in, a girl that is looking at me like I’ve just ripped her heart out. A girl that looks identical to the woman in my arms, only her eyes ...
It’s her eyes.
I step back from the woman in my arms, putting my hands up. “What. The. Fuck?”
“Meet my twin sister,” the girl behind me whispers, her voice shaking. “Yolanda.”
What?
I glance at the girl in front of me, and then at the girl behind me. And sure enough, the one behind me is wearing exactly what Saskia was wearing this morning, and the girl I just had my fingers in, is wearing something different. How did I not fucking notice that? I look over to Saskia, and the hurt in her eyes makes me want to take the girl who just fooled me and crush her.
“This is why I didn’t know,” Saskia whispers. “Because it was never me, Mason. Never me.”
Fuck.
No.
What the hell is happening?
“I never betrayed you, I would never steal from you, but mostly, I would never hurt you. My sister, on the other hand, is cold and ruthless. And combined with your sister’s help, tricked me and got into your house.”
My head starts spinning.
What the fuck is happening right now?
The girl behind me starts clapping, and I turn, glaring at her, and she grins, bold and happy, proud of herself. “This was worth every second. I must say, Saskia, I can see why you’re into him, the man has lovely fingers.”
I lunge at her, but Saskia calls out, “Stop, Mason, don’t!”
I pause, but only because the pain and fear in her voice makes me. I stop in front of her sister, hand raised, trembling. “You will fuckin’ suffer for what you have done.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will.” She laughs. “But so will your little girlfriend. After all, she just saw you fingering me, kissing me, and she will never be able to unsee that. Just like she can’t unsee me riding her boyfriend. The best part, he didn’t know, either. He had no idea it was me, not at first, anyway ...”
I want to kill her.
I’ve never wanted to hurt a woman in my life, not like this, but right now I want to take her and string her up. Saskia said her sister was evil, but not even I could imagine someone going to this extent. She’s a monster. Evil reincarnated. And she’s going to suffer, I’ll make sure of it, but right now, I have something more pressing to deal with.
I turn to Saskia, and it fucking burns me to see a tear run down her cheek.
Fuck.
I’ve broken her.
I’ve fucking destroyed her.
She reaches into her coat and pulls out some jewelry. “I went to her house, to see if I could find this. I did. I wanted to give it to you. To show you it was her, and not me ... but then, I saw this ... and I can’t ...”
“Saskia,” I say, stepping forward. “Fuck.”
“That’s mine!” Yolanda screeches, lunging toward me.
I spin quickly, grabbing her around the throat and pushing her backward until she hits the railing. “So much as attempt that once more, and I’ll make you wish you were never born. Do not fuckin’ move again. This is not yours. It is fuckin’ mine.”
“But, you don’t understand, please, I need it—”
“Shut your mouth.”
I turn around, and my head goes left and right.
Saskia is gone.
The jewelry is on the ground.
But she’s fucking gone.
Dammit.
I have to get Yolanda back to the club, and then I’m going to find my girl.
And try to make this right.
Somehow.
~22~
SASKIA
I go to Chantelle’s house.
I have nowhere else to go. I gave away my apartment, and right now, the thought of being at Mason’s house absolutely rips me apart. I can’t do it. Hell, I won’t do it, so I go to the only person I know who has always been there for me and will continue to be there for me.
Because this hurts.
It hurts like hell.
I thought seeing Enzo with Yolanda burned, but seeing Mason touching her, kissing her, that burned a whole lot fucking hotter. I don’t even try to make sense of why, I just know it did. Seeing it, and knowing, yet again, she’d managed to get under my skin and take something from me, made me sick.
I know he didn’t realize it was her.
I know that.
But it doesn’t stop the mental images fr
om rolling around in my mind, no matter how much I try to push them out, they’re there, and they won’t leave.
They just won’t leave.
And it hurts so bad.
I don’t even try to stop the tears now, there’s no point. They’re coming whether I like it or not, they’re going to flow out, and they’re going to hurt. Because this is a pile of shit, not just Mason, but Enzo, and Yolanda, and everything that has happened in my life in the last few months.
I can be strong, but today? Today, I’m going to let it hurt.
I bang on Chantelle’s door as soon as I arrive, and I know how I look. Red faced, sobbing, ugly. She hasn’t seen me like this, hell, most people haven’t. I’m so together. So strong. Always the one brushing things off and acting like I’m fine. I only ever cry to myself in the comfort of my own home, behind closed doors where no one can see me.
But there is no stopping this.
The door opens, and Chantelle’s eyes get big almost right away. “Sas?”
“I had nowhere else to go, Chan,” I croak, and then hiccup between a sob.
“Oh, God. Come here.”
She reaches out, grabs my shoulders, and hauls me into her. I go, letting it flow even harder, until my body shakes and the pain becomes even more real. Chantelle holds me through that, not saying a word, just letting me hurt the way I need to, and only when I manage to get the tears under control does she let me go and take my hand, pulling me into the apartment. She guides me to the sofa, sits me down, and then goes into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of whiskey.
She opens it, handing it to me.
I love her in this moment. Really love her.
I take the bottle and tip my head back, swallowing down a burning gulp, then another.
It doesn’t help right away, but it will.
For a little bit.
That’s all I need.
“Now,” she says, after she takes the bottle and has a sip of her own. “Tell me who did this to you, because I’m going to hunt them down and murder the fuck out of them.”
I laugh, but it’s broken.