Hushed Torment (Iron Fury MC) Read online

  Hushed Torment

  BELLA JEWEL 2017

  DEDICATION

  To Lance

  For believing in me and kicking my ass to keep writing even when I didn’t want to.

  For this awesome title. I suppose it’s pretty good 

  For always making me laugh, even if I occasionally snort.

  For loving me harder than I’ve ever been loved.

  For being the best damn thing to ever happen to me.

  This is for you.

  It’s always for you.

  ~*Hushed Torment*~

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  HUSHED TORMENT

  Copyright © 2017 Bella Jewel

  HUSHED TORMENT is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  ~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~

  PROLOGUE | THEN – AMALIE

  -1- | NOW – AMALIE

  -2- | MALAKAI

  THEN – AMALIE

  NOW – AMALIE

  -3- | AMALIE - NOW

  MALAKAI

  AMALIE – NOW

  -4- | THEN – AMALIE

  AMALIE – NOW

  -5- | NOW – AMALIE

  MALAKAI – NOW

  NOW – AMALIE

  -6- | THEN – AMALIE

  NOW – AMALIE

  AMALIE – NOW

  -7- | MAVERICK

  -8- | AMALIE – NOW

  MALAKAI

  -9- | THEN – AMALIE

  MALAKAI

  NOW – AMALIE

  -10- | THEN – AMALIE

  NOW - AMALIE

  -11- | NOW – AMALIE

  NOW – AMALIE

  -12- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE

  -13- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE

  -14- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE – NOW

  -15- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE – NOW

  -16- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE

  -17- | MALAKAI

  AMALIE

  MALAKAI

  -18- | AMALIE

  MALAKAI | ONE WEEK LATER

  -19- | AMALIE

  AMALIE

  TO BE CONTINUED

  ~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~

  As always, my heartfelt thanks to every single blogger, reader and author that has supported my journey. From reading my books, to sharing them, to raving about them, to being there for me. Thank you. My career would be nothing without any of you.

  A huge thanks to Kylie from Give Me Books for organizing my reveals and blitzes. You do such an amazing job. No matter how many times I use you, I am always blown away by how efficient you are. Nothing is ever a drama. Thank you for giving me so much support.

  A massive thanks to Ben Ellis from BE Designs for this gorgeous cover. Not only did you come in at the last minute, you did an absolutely incredible job. I honestly have no words to explain how grateful I am to you for all the help you put in. I’m forever in your debt.

  A big, heartfelt thanks to Ready, Set, Edit for doing this book for me at the last moment. I really appreciate the time you took to help me out, and how patient you were when my kids weren’t well!! Thank you so much, lovely.

  And of course, to my admin, MJ, for ALWAYS keeping my page running beautifully. I couldn’t do it without you, girly. I love your teasers and your passion; thank you for taking the time out of your life to help this poor girl keep everything running.

  To Lee Anna Dunk for coming up with this super incredible MC name. You’re amazing, thank you so much!! I hope you enjoy this book, lovely.

  And, last but certainly not least, to my loyal readers. To each and every one of you that picks up my books and give me a chance. To the reviews you write, good or bad. To the time you take to make me a better person. You make this real for me.

  PROLOGUE

  THEN – AMALIE

  “Are you listening to me, Amalie?”

  The croaky, frustrated voice fills my ears, but I keep my eyes on the road, my mind clear. Fighting. Always fighting. It’s like a wave that keeps crashing into me, over and over, no matter how hard I keep rising to the surface. His voice is low and pitched in a way that is irritating. Sometimes, I wish I couldn’t hear him so for a second I could remember how it felt to just breathe in the silence.

  I loved him once.

  Maybe I still do.

  I’m not really sure.

  That’s a terrible feeling, not being sure. But, in my mind, I have to know that if I’m doubting it, then my heart isn’t truly in it. I always believed that I’d know real love, the one that never fades, the one that captures your breath and never lets it go. From the moment I met him, I didn’t feel that. It was love, of a sort, but not the love I forever dreamed of.

  I hum a tune under my breath—soft, soulful. I take myself to another place, a place where I can be just me: Amalie. A place where he isn’t, which makes me sad. A world where only I exist. I imagine my fingers gliding over the piano keys, I let my body feel the same things it feels when the music flows into me, hitting my soul, taking me to another world. A world of freedom. A world of happiness.

  Music is my life.

  “Amalie, I’m speaking to you!”

  He’s always speaking to me. Or more so, at me. Over and over again, he throws his words at me. There is no happiness between us anymore. Four years together, and I’ve forgotten what it felt like to laugh with him. Maybe we were never a match. Dramatics were always high on his list. Opinionated. Loud. I’m the complete opposite. I like my world silent, except for music. Everything else is just a waste of energy.

  “Amalie!” he barks.

  I curl my fingers around the steering wheel, trying to stay calm. My therapist said not to feed it. Not to react when he’s behaving like this. She doesn’t understand how hard that is. He learned how to drive me to a point where I would explode, but I hated that side of myself. I’ve always been calm and at peace. Quiet. He brings out the worst in me. And then he turns it around and makes it my fault.

  I’ve tried to break up with him. Three times.

  He puts the guilt back on me, and my softness takes over and he wins.

  Every time.

  But tonight, I’m calm. I’m at ease. I’m ready for freedom. Ready to pursue my dreams. I’m ready to be something else. Something better. Something different. An opportunity has come up for me and my music, and I’m going to take it. Besides, I know there is someone out there for him, someone better suited, someone who can make him happy.

  I don’t think that someone is me.

  It’s dark out, and the highway is mostly dead except for the few occasional cars passing by. The wind is howling, and the moon is full, sitting low, lighting up the whole sky, demanding its presence be felt. I glance at it for just a second and feel a sense of calm wash over me. I can do this. It’s for the best. I just have to hold strong.

  I take a deep, calming breath and say in the kindes
t voice I can muster up, “We can’t be together anymore, Caiden.”

  My voice, while gentle, is also firm in its delivery.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  His voice is clipped, and from the corner of my eye, I see him turn toward me. I can’t see his face, but I know he’ll be scowling, the furrows between his brows deepening. I keep my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road. Breathe in, and out.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve tried. But it isn’t working. I don’t love you like I should and that isn’t fair on either of us. An opportunity has come up for my music, and I’m going to take it.”

  Dead silence.

  It takes him a while to reply, and my chest clenches with anticipation of his reaction. “You’re joking, right?”

  Oh, but I wish I was.

  I suddenly like I’m carrying a heavy weight. I’ve made my choice, but it doesn’t mean that it was an easy one to make. Caiden has been a part of my life for long enough that I know I’ll miss his presence. But I won’t miss putting my life on hold, because our dreams are different. Our personalities are different.

  We’re two of a different kind.

  It won’t work.

  “No. We’re not doing this again,” he says firmly, arms crossing over his broad chest.

  “Caiden,” I say, keeping calm, remembering what my therapist said. Don’t make the situation worse, be straightforward and kind, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry, but it is happening. I’m leaving in two days.”

  “No.”

  He stares straight ahead, and the moonlight allows us to hide nothing. My heart is beating erratically, and I take as many deep breaths as I can to try and calm it. I suffer from anxiety on the best of days, and a situation like this doesn’t help. At all.

  “Caiden, I’m sorry, but I’ve made my choice.”

  He laughs, cold and bitter. “This is another one of your weird attempts at perusing some ridiculous career. You’ve done it before, and we’re still here. You and I both know you’re not leaving me, Amalie, so we’ll have no more of this conversation.”

  My cheeks get red, and my heart beats so wildly I can’t hear myself think.

  There he goes again. Talking at me. Making decisions. Making me out to be the bad guy. Turning it around on me. Once again.

  Not this time.

  “I’m leaving.”

  My words are final, my tone harder than it should be. I hate that, but I’m not backing down. He doesn’t own my life, and he doesn’t own me. I don’t want to hurt him, but I am doing this.

  I’ve had enough.

  “You’re not.”

  Breathe, Amalie.

  “I am.”

  “No,” he roars suddenly, spinning around and facing me. “You’re fucking not! I haven’t wasted four years of my life on you for you to just leave. No. You’re being ridiculous and I won’t take it. Couples have rough patches, that’s all this is. We’re going to fix it. You’re going to stay around so we can fix it. I will not speak any more about it, Amalie. Do you understand me?”

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  “I’m sorry, but I have made my choice. I won’t discuss this any further with you, Caiden. Not until we arrive home. I’m trying to drive. We’ll be there in a few minutes and we can have a proper discussion.”

  I should have waited until we arrived home. I realize that now. But I was hoping that as soon as we got home, I could pack my bags and leave. I didn’t want an argument that would last all night long. Because I knew that’s how it would end. Caiden doesn’t just accept things, at least in the car I have an escape as soon as we stop. When we’re at home, he’ll do anything to keep it dragging on.

  Still, this probably wasn’t the best idea.

  “Pull over then,” he demands. “You start this conversation and now you want me to wait? No. Pull over.”

  “When we get home, we’ll—”

  “I said pull over!” he bellows. “If you’re going to break up with me, you’re going to damn well look me in the eye instead of waiting until we get home.”

  “Caiden, calm down,” I try to say, but he’s angry.

  Really, really angry. And his temper is never good. He does stupid things when he loses it.

  “I said,” he grinds out, hands shaking, “pull over!”

  He reaches over, grabbing the steering wheel and pulling it. It isn’t much, but it’s enough. I turn for a split second to look at him out of pure shock, to try and stop him, and the car jerks to the side. We hit the dirt on the side of the highway and I panic, trying to correct it, but it only makes it worse. Caiden is yelling something, but I can’t focus. I try to correct the car again and hit the brakes at the same time.

  It’s the worst mistake I ever make.

  I lose control, and we flip.

  The car launches, hits the side of the road, slips down the bank a little, and then we’re in the air and rolling. Over, and over, and over. For a moment, my vision blurs, my hearing stops, and all I can feel is my body being flung, my legs jerking, my arms flying around as we plummet down lower.

  Then it stops. With a loud crash. Everything just stops.

  My ears are ringing, my head is crushed against the window, and something warm is coating my face. Blood. I taste its metallic flavor in my mouth. Panic grips me, and I try to move, but my legs are trapped. The car is crushed.

  “Caiden,” I croak, but I can’t hear myself speak.

  Am I imagining that I am?

  Why can’t I hear myself speak?

  “Caiden,” I try again.

  I try to turn my head, but I can’t; blood pours from one ear and pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt takes over, making me scream out in agony.

  Only I can’t hear that, either.

  I can’t hear a single thing in my nightmare.

  And before I can cry out for help, my world starts spinning and it goes black.

  Little do I know, it’ll stay that way.

  -1-

  NOW – AMALIE

  They came out of nowhere.

  I didn’t see them. I didn’t hear them. Of course, I didn’t hear them. But I didn’t sense them, either. One moment, I’m walking, heading back to the tour bus, then I’m being grabbed from behind and dragged into a dark alley.

  I try to scream, but nothing comes out.

  A firm, calloused hand is covering my mouth.

  Terror fills me, and I can’t do anything but squirm and try to fight off my attacker. It’s late in the afternoon, why would somebody attack me in broad daylight?

  I squirm harder, trying to stomp on feet, or fight, or do something that’ll get the heavy man off me. But he’s dragging me further into an alley, then down another, and then we’re alone. Nobody can see me. They can’t hear me because I can’t scream. The only thought in my mind is, I wonder how many times this has happened to innocent people, so close to others, and nobody knew?

  I’m spun around in his arms and faced towards a man, who is grinning, arms crossed, staring at me. I know his face. I’ve seen the photos. He’s been after Scarlett for weeks, months, years even. Treyton. He’s more terrifying in real life, then she could have ever explained him. Eyes cold as ice. A grin that shows absolutely no mercy.

  “Hello there.”

  I swallow. I don’t know what he wants from me, but I can guarantee it isn’t good. Why did I go out on my own? Why? I should have never done it, not with danger so imminent. I squirm again, but the man behind me tightens his grip around me. I start to panic, shaking my head from side to side. If I can free his hand, I can scream. Someone can help me.

  God, someone please help me.

  Treyton steps forward, and the man releases his hand. I go to scream, but Treyton takes hold of my jaw, squeezing it so tightly I can only open my mouth in a silent scream. He does this until tears roll down my cheeks, and I try to shake my head away from the pain. Only then does he let me go. And the man puts his hand back over my mouth again.


  A warning.

  A taste of what’s to come.

  “Listen to me, Amalie.”

  How does he know my name?

  “You scream, and you’ll wish you were never born. I can promise you that. Either way, you’re not going to like me by the end of the day. I need to send a message. You’re the perfect way to do that. Ensure that you say hello to Scarlett to me, and inform her nothing she does will help her hide. I will find her. And I will get what I want from her.”

  His fist smashes into my stomach, and I double over with a wheeze. The man behind me has let go, and steps back. His job is clearly done.

  Treyton’s is about to start.

  Another hard fist drives into my ribs, followed by another. He shows no mercy. Me being female means absolutely nothing to him. Agony unlike anything I’ve felt in a very long time rips through my body and I try to scream, but only a pained hiss comes out.

  His foot connects with my jaw, and sends me flying. I land on the ground with a thump and a scream that hurts even me to hear.

  Why isn’t anyone helping me?

  Can nobody hear my screams?

  There were people on the street. Where are they?

  I roll and press my hands over my face, trying to protect it.

  It’s no use.

  His blows come hard and fast.

  They come until I can’t breathe.

  Until I can’t think.

  Until I can no longer feel.

  You think he’d stop after that.

  He doesn’t.

  ~*~*~*~

  My eyes flutter open, and my breathing is ragged. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and to reassure myself that I’m safe now. I’m safe. He isn’t here. A warm hand curls around mine, and I turn to see Scarlett staring at me, her brown eyes wide, her face soft. “Another dream?”

  I nod.

  I didn’t even realise I fell asleep.

  We were laying on her bed, chatting, and then I fell asleep. Exhaustion getting the better of me.

  Scarlett’s fingers stay curled around mine and we lie side by side in her bed at the ranch, neither of us saying anything for a few moments. We’re both broken. Both battered. All because of her ex-boyfriend, Trey. Her silence hurts because it means she’s blaming herself, and I don’t want her to blame herself. Nothing that he did is on her.