Mason's Resolution

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Mason's Resolution Page 18

by Kristine Allen


  When he hollered through the door to tell me he was leaving and he loved me, I was still pissed, but I couldn’t let him leave without telling him I loved him. It hurt my heart to fight with him. Like my chest literally ached. This was not how I planned on shit going tonight. Telling him I was pregnant was hard enough as it was. I sure as shit wasn’t going to blurt it out in the middle of an argument.

  The sound of the front door closing spurred me into action. I grabbed my boots, pulling them on as I worked my way to the door, hopping on one leg at a time. My purse was swooped up, and I grabbed my keys off the hooks by the door. Shutting off the lights to my car so he wouldn’t notice me pull out behind him, I watched his bike turn out of the end of the driveway toward town. Slowly easing out onto the road, I kept a close eye on his taillights in the distance. Waiting until he disappeared over a hill in the road, I turned my headlights on. Hopefully, he would just think I was a vehicle that had come off one of the side roads.

  It was easy to keep myself at a safe distance with the speed he was traveling. As we neared Reaper and Steph’s, I saw another bike pull out as he hit his brakes and they took off together.

  Hmmm, so Reaper is going with him tonight. That got me wondering if Steph knew where they were going.

  The ringing of her phone echoed over my car speakers as I waited for her to answer.

  Come on, girl, answer.

  “Wassup, you sexy beeotch?” Despite my mood, I couldn’t help but smile at my best friend’s peppy-sounding voice.

  “Nada, my little ho. Hey, where is your man running off to with mine?” It was a struggle to sound nonchalant. “I’m wondering if I should be jealous of their bromance.” She laughed and I knew I had fooled her in regards to my mood. Good.

  “Hell, chica, I don’t know. It’s all that-”

  “Let me guess, ‘club business,’ right?” Keeping the snide tone from my voice was impossible this time. She must have picked up on it because her tone sobered.

  “Hey. Girl, it’s okay. I promise they aren’t doing anything they shouldn’t. I trust Reaper. Explicitly. Just keep faith in your man, sweetie.” Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one whose man was coming home smelling and looking like a hooker had climbed him. “Did you tell him before he left?”

  “Ugh! No! I didn’t get a chance,” I growled in frustration. “Anyway, I gotta run, hoochy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

  “Love you too, beeotch.” In frustration, I disconnected the call on my car dash. The bikes’ headlights were probably a good mile ahead of me, but I could still see them. We were heading toward Spirit Lake and I recognized the glow of the lights of town in the distance. When we pulled into town, they had to slow down, and I started to catch up to them so I had to drop back, barely keeping them in my sight with traffic. The Lakes got busy in the summer with all the tourists who flooded in.

  When they turned into a lot with a building trimmed in green lights, I read the sign. The Emerald Shamrock. Flashing in neon was a busty woman with green shamrocks covering her nipples.

  What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck?

  You have got to be shitting me, I thought as I pulled into the gas station across the road and parked along the side of the building, trying to figure out what to do next. They walked in together, and I saw Reaper laugh at something Mason said.

  My temper was boiling. I was ready to punch him right between his gorgeous light hazel eyes. That bastard. And Reaper was with him! Wait until Steph found out where our loving men had hightailed it, under the guise of “club fucking business.”

  Assholes.

  How long I sat there stewing and trying to think clearly and form a plan, I had no frickin’clue. Finally, my temper won out and I backed out of my parking spot and waited for an opening in traffic to pull into the packed parking lot across the road. Popular place, I thought snidely. The lot was so flipping full, I ended up having to park toward the back. Of course, they were able to park their bikes right up front. Dicks.

  After walking around the building, I walked up to the front door and pulled it open, taking a deep, fortifying breath. God, the place was dim and smoky. The bouncer by the door looked at my ID then to my face. Jesus, I wasn’t trying to sneak in with a fake ID. His expression became thoughtful before he nodded his head that I could go in. Sheesh. Man of few words, much?

  There was a stage situated against the back wall, with a longer section jutting out into the crowd like a runway, lit with green lights around the edge. The bar spanned the entire right side of the club with two burly-looking bartenders manning the bar that was lined up with customers. There were two women dressed in short—and I mean short! Like ass-cheeks-hanging-out short—black shorts and bright green tank tops that were damn near painted on they were so tight. Those, I assumed, were the waitresses. Of course, there were darker green shamrocks printed over their boobs at nipple location. My eyes rolled at the obvious lack of bras on either of them. As perky as those things were, they were fake for sure.

  Yeah, I was feeling extra bitchy. Wouldn’t you if you just found out your man had been chilling at a titty bar every night since you moved in together?

  My eyes were still trying to adjust to the low lighting as I scanned the bar, looking for the guys. The music cranked up as Nine Inch Nails “Closer” began to pump from the speakers. This was one of my favorite songs, so this bitch better not make me hate it by being the one wearing that nasty red lipstick. A busty blonde who looked like she was a naughty acrobat rather than a stripper began to slink her way to the pole.

  Rhinestones covered her masquerade-type mask, a short white sparkly skirt and a silver studded halter top completed her outfit. And by the hoots and hollers of the horny bastards lined up around the stage, she was a favorite.

  Why the hell I was sitting there watching a stripper’s number, I couldn’t tell you, but she was mesmerizing. God, she was sexy, yeah, but she was grace and self-confidence and talent. What the hell was she doing working as a stripper in Podunk, Iowa when she could be on Broadway, or something? Damn, girl. Shit, was she flexible. By the time she finished her number, she was down to a glittery G-string and some silver nipple cover-thingies. She shook her ass and blew kisses to the crowd as she gathered up the last of the tips thrown up at her and strutted off the stage.

  Wow.

  Shit. She had distracted me from my mission. My eyes resumed their scan of the room. When they lit on a half-naked, gaudy redhead climbing up to straddle a guy against the wall in the corner, I wanted to gag. Gross. Some guys were sooooo without shame. When I saw Reaper walk up to them and noted his angry body language, my eyes took the disgusting scene in again. No. No way. Blood boiling, I pushed and wove my way through the crowd to the corner and the scene of what was unfolding to be the beginning of the end of my relationship. My heart pounded in anger, denial, and adrenaline.

  “What the fucking hell?” Not sure, but I thought I may have shrieked at glass-breaking decibels. The nasty, skanky, redhead turned to me as she slid off what I then knew was my man’s lap. Bitch had the nerve to give me a dirty look and tell me to fuck off or she would have her boyfriend throw me out.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” My eyes flashed to Mason’s shocked hazel ones that were nearly gold tonight. Yeah, shocked to see me, darling?

  “Babe, I can explain. This is not what you think.” He turned to skank-face. “Cherry, I told you once, and I’m not telling you again, get the fuck out of here.” When he tried to reach for me, I jerked my arm out of his grasp as I back away, breathing labored and so mad I could probably spit damn nails. Fury resonated through my entire body.

  “Hollywood, you know we have a good thing going. This scrawny bitch is why you’re telling me to leave? Fuck her.” She turned to me and spit out, “You aren’t wanted bitch, move along and get the hell out of here. You don’t fucking belong here.” My mind barely registered skank-face telling me he was her man and I needed to get the hell out of there. I’m the scrawny one? My focus turned
to her, and I was about to punch her boney ass out when Reaper wrapped his arms around me and quietly told me I didn’t want to do this here. Hollywood looked furiously at skank-face before he turned back to me. He still looked angry, like I did something wrong. My body jerked and twisted until I pulled out of Reaper’s hold, turning on him.

  “You! Both of you. Oh my God. I can’t even find the words right now. Jesus Christ. I cannot. Just cannot believe this!” Havoc churning through me, I turned and forced my way through the crowd to the door as I felt sobs tear through my body. Through the pounding rush in my ears, I barely heard Mason and Reaper shouting my name. My hand snatched a small stack of napkins from a table as I pass to wipe the tears that were blinding me. Realizing it was a futile endeavor, I shoved them in my pocket and kept moving. All I could focus on was the door and getting the hell out of there. At the last minute, I noticed the back door was closer and diverted my path, bursting out of the door into the humid night air. My hands dropped to my knees and my head hung as I gasped for breath and sobbed.

  Not wanting to wait long because I knew the guys were following me, I stood. As I rushed toward my car, fumbling with my keys, the air was knocked out of me as I was tackled from the side, and a hand covered my mouth. We nearly fell to the ground when another set of hands grabbed me, and we were moving toward a dark-colored van. My body started kicking and thrashing, fighting tooth and nail against the slow progression toward the van. Panic like I had never felt engulfed me. How did you process something that only happened in the movies?

  Something sickly sweet covered my face, and everything seemed grossly distorted before my vision started to go black.

  Heavy.

  No breath.

  Sinking.

  I was sure I heard Mason and Reaper shouting before there was just… nothingness.

  MY MOMMA TAUGHT ME to never hit a woman, but if ever I wanted to plant my fist between a bitch’s eyes, it was Cherry. As soon as Reaper and I walked in, she was up my ass. No matter how many times I gave her the brush-off, she kept coming back. After the shitstorm she stirred up with her little stunt last night, I could have easily throttled her with no remorse. This was just icing on the cake of shit she had stirred up.

  Reaper had even told her to get lost. That motherfucker can be a scary bastard when he wanted, so she had stayed away just until he left to take a piss. She had slithered up in my lap quicker than I could blink, and I was fighting to shove her off without making a big scene that would call attention to us back in the corner. We were supposed to be observing the comings and goings while being unobtrusive. Every time I pushed to get her off my lap, her arms tightened around my neck. If I peeled her arms from around my neck, she was climbing back in my lap. She was like a fucking octopus.

  Reaper came stalking over, looking pissed as hell. Join the fucking club, buddy.

  “Cherry! Knock it the fuck off!” he growled. “I swear I’m going to lock you in the backroom if you don’t get lost. I would have Arnie cut you loose, but your ass wouldn’t leave. Now, dammit, Cherry, get the fuck off Hollywood. Now! Don’t make me fire your ass and ban you from the place.” She looked over at him and batted her fake eyelashes. He rolled his eyes. Little did she know, neither of us had sympathy for her shit.

  “What the fucking hell?” My eyes closed in dread. That was a voice I was not expecting to hear tonight, especially not at that particular moment. It was one I ordinarily would have loved to hear, but with that slut on my lap, I knew shit looked bad. Real bad. Hell, I wasn’t sure how she knew where I was, but it was not good.

  Cherry slid off my lap, running her hand over my jeans and along my dick as she got off. After having something as golden and good as my girl, this tramp didn’t do a damn thing for me. It seemed like she figured that out when I didn’t respond to her, so instead, she started running her mouth to Becca after I had already told her ass to beat it.

  Becca turned on her, and I thought she was going to jump in her shit with both feet. Reaper must have seen it too, because he wrapped her up and held her, whispering in her ear as she thrashed and fought his hold. I was so pissed at the situation, I could barely think straight.

  Becca was a fury as she twisted out of Reaper’s arms and lashed out at us both. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to try to explain to her how she misunderstood the whole situation. I wanted to hold her and have everything be okay, but she was pushing her way toward the door by the time I pulled myself out of my agitated inertness. Reaper shoved my shoulder, getting me to move, but by then she had gotten a head start on us. Girl could move. We both rushed to cut her off before she got to the door, when we saw her suddenly cut off and go to the back door.

  Shit! Losing precious time, we had to weave back through the place. Of course, it had to be a busy as fuck night.

  She was out the door by the time we made it through the crowd. We rushed out the door in time to a sight that was a complete blow to my gut. No, worse. The sight that greeted me eviscerated me.

  No. No. No! My heart and lungs near to exposing in my chest, I ran toward the two men who were dragging my girl kicking and fighting toward a plain black panel van. Reaper shouted, hot on my heels. No idea what they had done to her, but I screamed her name just as I saw her go limp and they tossed her in the van like a sack of trash.

  The van pealed out as they were still climbing in, doors swinging. My instinct was to jump on my bike and follow them, but Reaper held me back with one arm as he was rapidly talking on his burner phone.

  “Stop! Hollywood! Man, I know that’s your woman, but we can’t follow them blindly. It could be a trap. Snow is pulling everyone from the other tasks and is diverting them here. Hacker is running the plates. I was able to get them before they threw her in.” Reaper tried to reason with me, but my mind was shattered. I was seriously losing my shit as I gripped my hair and paced back and forth.

  Fuck this shit. I need to go after my girl. Fuck!

  Hopping on my bike, I revved it and peeled out, shifting gears like a Grand Prix racer as I tried like hell to keeping the disappearing taillights in my sights as they swerved in and out of traffic down 18th Street. When they turned down a side street, I lost them after a jacked-up truck pulled out in front of me, and I slammed on my brakes to avoid being a bumper sticker.

  Reaper skidded to a stop next to me mere seconds later. My rage knew no bounds as I kicked my kickstand down and jump off my bike. Hands fisted with my arms straight at my sides, I roared in outrage before swinging wildly when Reaper approached me. Vision straight red, it didn’t matter who he was, as everything in my body was on disconnect.

  “Hollywood! Stop! Fuck!” Reaper’s words barely penetrated my haze of wrath. “Let’s go back to the main road to meet up with the brothers. We lost them. There is no sense in riding off half-cocked. Man, I told you, this could be a trap to get one of us alone.”

  Not caring if it was a trap, I was going out of my fucking mind waiting as I headed in the direction of my bike. As I passed by a road sign, I punched the metal. My hand was throbbing, but my adrenaline prevented me from really feeling any damage I may have done.

  Let me tell you, I have never been a very religious man, but I prayed to whatever God may listen to me that we found her before anything happened to her.

  Deep in my heart, I was terrified I was going to lose her one way or another tonight.

  Reaper grabbed my arm, turning me toward him in a blurring half circle. “Hey, Hollywood. Man listen to me. They have an ETA of about five minutes. We’re going to find her, bro. You just need to hold your shit together and keep your cool. This is just another mission. Pull yourself together. You can’t go racing off and possibly getting yourself killed. We got this, bro, we got this. Now let’s head up to the road so they see us. Okay?”

  The breath I was holding came out in a rush. He was right, and I knew it, but fuck if I wasn’t coming unraveled inside. The woman I loved had been taken, and I knew those fucking piece-of-shit Demon Runners had he
r. But why? Why her? Did they figure out she was the old lady of a patched member? Regardless, they had signed their death warrant. Legit be damned. Even if it meant turning in my cut, I would hunt down every one of those worthless bastards and kill them slowly if they harm her in any way.

  My leg swung over my bike as I settled in, anxious to take off. Reaper and I rode up to a gas station and sat waiting for the guys to get here. Less than five minutes later, we heard the roar of their bikes, but hell if it didn’t feel like five hours. Snow, Vinny, DJ, Soap, Hacker, Two-Speed, and Dice all pulled into the lot and stopped in front of us.

  “Hacker says the van is stolen. Go figure. Good news is, your woman had her phone on her. We were able to trace the tracker you had him put on it, but that’s only as good as the signal. He’s tracking her now. Brother, we’re going to get her back. No one takes one of ours without retaliation. Now keep your damn head screwed on straight and we’ll get her. Let’s ride out, boys.” Snow was calm, but I could see in his eyes he was pissed that these motherfuckers had taken it to this level. Like I said before, we’d been trying our best to stay legit and on the right side of the law for a while, but fuck with our families and all bets were off.

  “We need to get moving. They’re moving at a fast rate, and they have a good head start on us.” Hacker was messing with his phone. He was one wicked-smart motherfucker. Like, I mean the man was seriously tested as a genius. He could crack almost any program out there, and the ones he actually designed blew my mind. Thankfully, he had his tracking program tied to his phone so he could follow through his GPS and shit. My agitation level was exploding, because I’d been ready to go before they arrived. I needed to get this show on the damn road.

 

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