Mason: Inked Reapers MC

by West, Heather

  “It will have to.” I grinned. “It’ll be fine. Thank you so much.” I gave him a quick peck on his cheek and jumped off the porch. If only I had thought to go to the cabin months ago, I wouldn’t have needed so much of his help at that moment.

  The car rattled the entire way up the mountain. Several times I worried I was going to slide back down, or roll off the side and into the trees. Finally, the cabin came into view. The two-bedroom log cabin looked as cozy as it ever had when I came up here with my mom.

  I parked, thankful that I had been smart enough to stop at the grocer before making my way to the cabin. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to get back down and up again more than once a day. I mentally put new car on the list of things I needed to get, and soon.

  Once I dragged in the groceries and my bag of clothes, I plopped down on the couch and took a deep breath. Mr. Doyle kept the cabin in good repair and even kept fresh potpourri in the bedrooms to keep the place from smelling like mildew.

  My phone vibrated on the coffee table.

  On my way home

  Mason. It hadn’t even been a week. Did something go wrong? I stared at the screen, tempted to let him know what I’d done. I needed to stay strong. I hadn’t just left to get away from Jayson, I’d gone to keep Mason from making a mistake. He needed his life the way it was, and I was just a distraction. Him coming after me, that would start a war between the MCs that would only leave both sides full of blood and death.

  You doing okay?

  I turned off the phone and went to the master bedroom. I needed a nap. A month long nap.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  MASON

  Marcus paced across the room while Tick and I finished explaining the fucked up situation from down south. His expression started out pissed, then quickly morphed into terrified. When we were done telling him everything, he threw his fist into the wall.

  “This is bad.” He shoved his hands into his hair. “Where’s Charlie?” He stomped out of the room, leaving us sitting at the table alone, staring at each other. “Goddamn it!” When Marcus returned, without the VP, he picked up a chair and threw it across the room. It slammed into the wall and two legs broke off, wood splintered all over the floor.

  Charlie finally showed up, buckling his belt as he sauntered in, and Marcus began to rehash the whole story to him. While they were having their hissy fit, I checked my phone. Still nothing from Lucy. I needed to get over there, get her away from Jayson. Whatever was about to play out wouldn’t be safe for her. She could get caught in the crossfire, and from the look on Marcus’s face, there would be fire.

  “It makes no sense. Why would Julio turn on his brother?” Charlie rubbed the side of his neck. “And if he asked you two to do the job, why have someone else step in last minute? Did you give him any reason to think you wouldn’t do it?”

  “No.” Tick shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck happened. Carmella was never the target either. Maybe we were a fucking decoy, like Mason said. So that Carmella wouldn’t know he was gunning for her, too.”

  “Could be.” Charlie looked to Marcus. “What’s the plan now? If Julio is running shit, will he keep our two clubs tangled up, or is he gonna let us each do our own business again?”

  “I don’t know.” Marcus leaned over the table, propped up by his clenched fists. A layer of sweat began to take over his forehead, a single drop slid down his cheek. “Julio has his own game, no idea what he’s planning now.”

  “Why did you agree to this shit without a club vote?” I asked, getting up. I heard enough, and I really didn’t give a rat’s ass anymore.

  “Not everything needs a vote.” He growled at me, with narrowed eyes.

  “Something like taking out a fucking cartel leader needs a vote!” I jabbed my finger into the table.

  White teeth flashed at me. “You wanna run shit, is that what you're getting at?”

  “What? Fuck no.” I shook my head.

  “That’s why you fucked up down there, so Julio would have my head and you’d take the seat.” He rounded the table, headed toward me.

  “You’re fucked in the head if you think I would turn on my club.”

  “Why not? You want out, isn’t that what I’m hearing around here? You’ve lost love for your brothers?”

  “I love this club.” I watched him stalk toward me, bracing myself for what he was bringing. His shoulders arched, his head ducked down. Pumping his fists at his side, he lunged for me.

  I sidestepped, letting him crash down into the chair I’d been sitting in. The old fuck stumbled back up to his feet and turned on me again, seething. Spit flew from his mouth, and he went for me again. This time I let him come at me. He wrapped his arms around my midsection and tried to push me down. We collided into the wall, and I managed to get my arms under his and broke his hold on me.

  “Marcus!” VP yelled.

  “It’s because of that whore! That little bitch spread her legs for you and now you can’t get your head out of her pussy!”

  His fist came at me. I ducked, managing to land a punch to his gut. Even with the thick layer of fat around his middle, he felt it. He cursed again, falling to his knees. He got back to his feet, but Charlie was behind him, pulling his arms back. “Knock it off!” he yelled at him, tossing him away from me.

  I glared at him, catching my breath. I could have tossed him around for another hour;

  the words he spewed about Lucy got my blood boiling. Tick stood in front of me, more to protect Marcus than me.

  “You need him,” I heard Charlie say to Marcus, still trying to get him to calm down. “The other brothers will follow him, do you get that? They respect him. This club is falling apart.” He slammed his hand against Marcus’s chest, keeping him in the chair.

  Marcus turned his steely gaze on me. “Get out.” He waved a hand at me, his chest still heaving from the physical exertion.

  Charlie looked at me over his shoulder. “Let the other guys know, tonight at eight. We figure this shit out.”

  “You got it.” Tick nodded and gave me a shove to get me moving. I kept my gaze on Marcus, wishing I could have another go at him. One fist to the gut hadn’t appeased my annoyance.

  “What the fuck is there to figure out?” I kicked the dirt once we were outside by our bikes. A few members had been in the clubhouse and had heard the shuffle, but hadn’t asked any questions. They knew better.

  “How to get his ass out of the fire, I guess.” Tick looked at his phone. “Fuck. I missed another doctor appointment.”

  I looked at him, tapping away on the phone, probably begging for forgiveness, and felt another twinge of jealousy hit me. “You’d give this up for her, even if she doesn’t want you to?” I asked him when he slid his phone back in his pocket.

  “She wants me out. She wants to raise our kids without all the drama and danger, but it's the only life she’s known—like you said. She’s scared. And right now, pissed.” He climbed onto his bike.

  “She’s gonna have you whipped in no time.” I grinned at him, swinging my leg over my own hog.

  “Have me? Hell, that woman had me wrapped around her finger the first time I laid eyes

  on her. She deserves better than this.” He nodded to the clubhouse. Jessie, the blonde waitress that warmed my bed whenever I wanted, walked out of the front door at that moment, wiping her hand across her mouth. Her lips were swollen and her lipstick smeared across her cheek. Looking at her then, remembering the times I’d used her, my gut twisted. Such a waste. When she noticed us staring at her, she narrowed her eyes and turned away. “Still haven't heard from Lucy?”

  “Nah. I’m gonna head to the diner, maybe she’ll be there. If I don’t hear from her soon, I’m going to have to go get her.”

  “You can’t just march into Disciple territory. Not now. Not until we know what the fuck is going on. Wait until tonight; if you don’t hear from her, then you can decide to make a move.”

  I nodded. He was right. Until I knew
what happened down in Mexico, walking into their clubhouse would be a crap shoot. “If she’s not at the diner, I’ll head over to my ma’s. I haven’t seen her in a while, and she’s been bugging me to stop by.”

  “You wanna crash with us tonight?” He snapped his helmet strap. “Less time here probably the better.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Marcus, who had come out of the clubhouse still wearing his pissy glare. He watched me—I could feel his eyes on me when I turned back to Tick. “Might be a good idea. Seem to have lost some love around here.”

  “He’s just looking for someone to blame and you were the closest to him. It’ll blow over.”

  “Yeah, but he knows we want out. Probably taking it personally that I haven’t gone to him directly.”

  “Probably,” Tick agreed. “After this is settled tonight, we’ll sit down with him. Tell him our plans.”

  I gave him a wary look. “Maybe we should make some, then.”

  He grinned. “Always wanted to open a bike shop.”

  ***

  When I pulled into the diner parking lot I realized my stomach was in knots. At the idea of finding her, or not finding her there? As much as I tried to keep telling myself I was looking out for Lucy because she was an innocent, because she was mine for the time being, I realized I was a complete bullshitter.

  I looked out for her because that pixie had wormed her way under my skin, and there was no way I’d be letting her go. Not now, and not ever.

  Her car wasn’t in the lot, but I parked anyway. Maybe I got lucky and she finally upgraded that bucket of bolts

  She wasn’t in the diner either, but Lucas was.

  He sat in the back of the place, in a booth with a woman. She looked familiar, someone probably at the Disciple’s house. Lucas noticed me and stood up from the booth. He put his hand out to the woman to keep her there, and marched over to me.

  “We need to talk.” He jerked his head to a booth near me.

  “I don’t have shit to say—”

  “You’re here lookin for Lucy, right?” he shot at me. I swept my eyes across the room, and didn’t see any other members. I nodded. “Well, she ran off.”

  “What the fuck?” I slid into the booth. “What happened?”

  “Here or down south?” he asked with a sly grin.

  “Both.”

  “Rumor has it you’re looking to exit the MC, is that right?” He drummed his fingertips on the table.

  “Maybe.” Being non-committal, that was my theme.

  “If you are, don’t worry about what happened down South. Just focus on finding Lucy

  before Jayson does. He’s searching all over for her.”

  “If I’m not?”

  “If you're not, which I don’t think is the case, then get ready for a new ruler in town.” I wanted to smack his shit-eating grin off his face. If Lucy didn’t tell me how much he ran interference for her with Jayson, I might have done just that.

  “Julio.” I nodded.

  “For one,” he agreed.

  “Lucy. Where is she?” I didn’t have time for Julio’s drama or Marcus’s fight. I needed to

  find Lucy. If she ran away from Jayson, he wouldn’t give up until he found her. “What happened? Why’d she run?”

  “Jayson woke up two days ago to an empty bed. She left him a note that she went out for breakfast, or coffee. When she didn’t show by the afternoon, and didn’t answer his calls, he got pissed. He’s been turning the whole town upside down.”

  “Isn’t he preoccupied with the whole Julio-Bernardo mess?” I watched his old lady saunter our way.

  “He’s is blissfully unaware of the Julio-Bernardo situation.” He grinned.

  “Do you know where she went?”

  “I do,” his woman answered as she approached the table. “But first you and I need to chat before I tell you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  LUCY

  When I was a kid, I used to think about what the man I ended up with would be like. I imagined him with dark hair, neatly trimmed and styled. Wearing a suit and tie to work every day; of course he carried a briefcase. He wore glasses, because he was super smart and every ten-year-old knows that’s what glasses meant. Never, during all of this daydreaming, did I picture him with near shoulder length, sandy blond hair, covered in tattoos and riding a Harley.

  No matter what I tried, I couldn’t shake Mason from my mind. I told myself over and over again that I wasn’t good for him, that he wasn’t good for me, but it didn’t work. The more excuses I came up with why my hiding from him made sense, the more my heart sank into my stomach with longing. I missed him. Not just the physical side of him, but every side. The protective way he’d throw his arm around my shoulders if we were just sitting and talking. I even missed his bossiness. Would I find those qualities attractive in someone else, or was it just because it was him that those things made me all weak in the knees—and wet in the panties?

  I’d been hiding in the cabin for three days before I finally decided to turn on my phone again. When I did, I thought it would dance right off the table from all of the messages that flooded in. Most were from Jayson, more threats, a few promises to be lenient if I just came home. What did that mean, lenient? He’d only punch me half a dozen times instead of a full dozen?

  The other messages were from Mason.

  Where are you?!

  You better not have done something stupid

  You did, didn’t you?

  Lucy, you’ve earned an asswhipping.

  Why did men think threatening a girl would get her to come out of hiding? Obviously, staying put would keep me safe from Jayson’s crazy and Mason’s punishment.

  Another text came through and I swiped the screen to read it.

  Last chance to come clean.

  My stomach flipped, and a tingle ran through my body. In the distance, I could hear a motor. I’d heard it most of the morning; Mr. Doyle was clearing out a spot for another cabin and had been cutting down trees. Reminding myself that Mason had no idea where I was, I sat back on the couch. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

  The motor grew louder. Closer.

  I jumped up from the couch and sprinted to the window, hiding behind the curtain. Just in case. A motorcycle rounded the curve and headed toward the cabin. The rider wore sunglasses, helmet, and long sleeves. Without seeing his face, I knew it was him. Mason had found me.

  Not sure if the tingles in my stomach were good or bad, I stood frozen watching him from behind the curtain. He turned off the bike and unstrapped the helmet, letting his hair fall from its containment. Peeling his sunglasses from his eyes, he looked at the cabin. My heart stopped when our eyes connected. The deep creases around his mouth appeared as he grinned and shook his head. Leaving his helmet on the bike, he made his way to the front door of the cabin.

  It occurred me that I could run. If I sprinted, I might make it out the back door. But then what? I’d be stuck in the woods, and I doubted he would just shrug, accept defeat and get back on his bike. And exactly what was I running from? I’d been thinking of nothing but him for the past two days, and there he was. All flesh and bone. Stepping onto the porch. Raising his fist to pound on the door.

  “Lucy, open this door.” He dropped his fist to his side, foregoing the polite knock and going straight for the yelling. I leaned back against the wall, debating. “Now.” I swallowed hard. “You’re in enough trouble.”

  Thrusting my chin up, and rolling my shoulders back, I made my way to the door. He could sense fear, and it would only play into his hands. I needed to stay strong.

  I opened the door, ready to lay into him about bellowing in the woods, but seeing him smiling at me, with his eyebrow raised in the way it was, I faltered. “Hi,” I managed.

  “Uh-huh.” He pulled the screen door open. Any resistance I’d planned to give melted away when he walked past me, brushing against me as he entered the cabin.

  I watched him as he inspected the open living/dining room.
He kept his eyebrow raised the entire time he looked around. “Mason.” I closed the door and turned to him. “I know—”

  “You don’t know anything.” His smile dropped.

  “Look, I’m sorry—”

  “Not yet, but you will be.” He nodded. “This place isn’t half bad.” He walked through the kitchen door and back again. “Clean.”

  “Of course it is.” I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting the action when his brow furrowed even deeper.

  He plopped down in the rocking chair, which creaked under his weight, and threw his feet up onto the coffee table. A few clumps of dirt fell onto the floor. “Now,” he folded his hands behind his head, like he had no worries in the world, “tell me what it was I told you before I left.”