Free Firebrand Motorcycle Club: Complete Series Box Set by Christy Rose

floor and will myself not to cry. Not in front of him. Don't show him how weak you are!
     
    “I need to apologize about last night.” Iron inched his way over I backed away.
     
    “There's nothing you can say that will make up for what you did. You are who you are, Iron. That won't change. Not even for me.”
     
    Iron began to respond but I turned on my heels and walked away. My eyes began to water. I didn't want to look back. He couldn't know how much I cared. I ran to the nearest bathroom and locked myself in a stall, breaking down into a crying mess. The tears flowed down my cheek and stained my scrubs. Iron was a bastard and didn't deserve me. He deserved a whore like that girl with her arms around him from the bar. I repeated that in my head a few times and wiped away my wet cheeks. I couldn't let this get to me. I needed to be strong and move on.
     
    I went back to my locker and did my best to fix my puffy eyes with makeup. I didn't want everyone to constantly ask if I was okay. My earlier chant of never seeing Iron again somehow summoned him to the hospital. This time I wouldn't say anything to myself and just forget that he ever existed.

Chapter Fifteen
     
Iron

Rebecca was so upset at me. My apology did nothing. She ran away and all I wanted to do was chase her down and hold her in my arms. But I didn't have time. I needed to get to the coffee shop. The MC needed me. Rebecca needed to time to herself anyways. I could always try again tomorrow.
     
    I rode my bike down Main Street watching all the stores turn off their lights and close down. I passed by Java Addicts and saw that the lights were already off. I hoped that the MC had waited for me. I turned the corner, going down the alley behind the coffee shop. A white van and a few bikes were already parked there. I noticed all the members crouched down, checking their weapons.
     
    I quickly turned off my headlight and parked next to them. “Did I miss anything?” I asked, taking my helmet off.
     
    “He's in there with three other guys,” Copper replied.
     
    I checked my Beretta 92FS and the clip was full. I nodded to Copper that I was ready to go and stuffed the pistol in my waistband. The rest of the MC nodded in succession. The adrenaline in my veins was pumping. This is what I lived for.
     
    Slade took the lead and rushed to the back door with a crowbar. He jammed it into padlock and after straining for a couple seconds, the padlock broke and fell to the ground.
     
    Stone whispered, “Remember we're only here to scare him. Leave your safety on.”
     
    I pulled out my gun, checked the safety, and patted Slade's back. He swung the door open and ran inside with me following right on his tail. We entered the back room and found four guys sitting around a square table playing poker and drinking beer.
     
    “Hands up!” Slade yelled with his gun drawn.
     
    One guy was in complete shock and kept his hands under the table. I went around and pulled the chair out from under him, knocking him to the floor. Big Mike dragged the guy away and put him in the corner.
     
    “Take all the fucking money, it's yours,” one man said.
     
    Stone walked over. “You must be Mr. Kramer.”
     
    “How do you know me?” he asked, his hands shaking above his head.
     
    “You're wife described you in detail. Even the crooked nose,” Stone replied, running his gun down the bridge of his nose.
     
    “Seriously just take the money and go. We won't say a thing,” one of his buddies chimed in.
     
    “We're not here for your money, asshole,” Issac said.
     
    “I want you guys to leave now,” Stone said, pointing his gun at each guy. “Everyone except Mr. Kramer.”
     
    The men scrambled away, running with their tails between their legs. It was hard not to laugh.
     
    “What do you guys want?” Mr. Kramer asked, his voice high and scared.
     
    Stone flipped one of the chairs backwards and sat down to face Mr. Kramer. “We don't like men who beat their