Page 26 of Bolt (Iron Thunder MC 1)
“I haven’t been interested in your personal life in any way.”
He was right. He hadn’t asked me any questions regarding my love life.
“Well, I guess I’m just a busybody. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Bolt turned to me now, a grin growing on his face.
“Are you sure? Because it sounded a lot like you’re interested.”
“In you? Are you kidding me? You’re not my type!” I blurted the words as forcefully as I could, just trying my best to prove a point. I hoped with all my heart that he’d believe me when I said I wasn’t interested.
He simply nodded his head. “Sure, I’ll bite, what is your type?”
“Not you.”
“And what type am I?”
“A guy who holds innocent girls hostage and allows other members to be beaten up and hurt by his friends.” I was snarling. The grin was disappearing from Bolt’s face. He wasn’t pleased with what I was accusing him of.
“I’m only going to say this once more to you, Cassie. Your fuckin’ brother deserves what he’s getting and he knows it. He betrayed the people he’d sworn his loyalty to. All for a bit of cash on the side. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“And you asked him that personally, did you? He told you he did it because he was greedy? You know exactly why he did it?”
“It doesn’t matter why he did it. What matters is that he did. He admitted it himself. So he’s getting what was coming for him.”
Bolt brushed roughly past me as he left the bathroom. I whipped around and followed him into the bedroom. I could feel the back of my neck burning up. I was shuddering with rage.
“I don’t understand why you’re prolonging this.”
“What are you talking about now?” he snapped. He sounded very annoyed now while he pulled out shoe polish and a brush.
“Holding me here. Why don’t you just do what you want to do?”
He sat down on the floor with the things and started taking his boots off.
“And what exactly do you think I want to do with you, Cassie?”
When he looked up at me now, he had a glimmer in his eyes. I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. What was he about to do? I stood above him with my shoulders heaving. I gulped but he looked away. Silently, he started polishing his boots.
I didn’t know the answer to that question. I had no idea what he actually wanted to do with me.
“I’m sorry that I threatened your club about going to the cops. I won’t do it. I promise,” I said.
Bolt said nothing. He continued polishing his boots in silence.
“Do you trust me, Bolt? Please trust me when I say I won’t go to the cops with any information. Just let me go.”
Nothing.
I felt so frustrated, I could tear my hair out.
“What do you think I’ll even tell them? Do you think the cops will actually believe anything I have to say? I’m nobody. I don’t even know where we are. I won’t even be able to guide them here.”
Nothing.
“Bolt! Do you trust me?” I screamed at him.
He stopped polishing for a moment and looked up at me. It was a deadpan look. Unfeeling. It made me realize I meant nothing to this man. Whatever connection I felt toward him was just one sided.
“No, Cassie, I don’t trust you,” he replied.I sat on the bed in silence while Bolt continued to polish his boots. It didn’t seem like those shoes needed any more polishing, but it was what he wanted to do. It was his way of killing time.
I felt like I’d tried my best. I’d done my best to help Chip. It wasn’t going to work. Bolt was iron-clad in his resolve against me.
Silently, I felt my eyes fill with tears. A sob escaped my lips and that was when he finally looked up at me. I rubbed a hand over my eyes. I didn’t want him to see me cry, was trying so hard to keep it together all this while and didn’t want him thinking I was weak.
He stood up and came toward me. His shoes and the polishing stuff were on the floor.
“There’s no need for you to cry,” he said, coming up to the bed.
I’d rubbed my tears off. I kept my head held high. I wasn’t about to let him see I was crumbling.
“I’m frustrated, that’s all,” I said.
Bolt stood over me. So close to me. Despite everything, I couldn’t believe I wanted him to hold me. It felt, in that moment, like he could fix it for me—if only he put his arms around me. What was wrong with me?
“Don’t cry,” he said again. This time a little less firmly, with a little more feeling. I looked up and met his eyes.
“I’m not crying! I just want to know where my brother is. I don’t care whether you trust me. I want you to tell me where you’re holding my brother.”
