Mason: Inked Reapers MC (9 page)

“Nice little fantasy he painted for you.” A low voice said from behind me. I turned slowly to find Sting glaring at me.  “You really think that asshole will pay what you owe? Or that Jayson would even entertain the idea?” He looked me over, a disgusted curl to his lip as he did so.

“Sting, I don’t know what you are talking about.” I swallowed hard and tried to keep my eyes on him, not show any doubt.

He laughed. A sadistic grating sound. I’d heard it before. The night Kerri told him he could fuck off. “Right. Jayson has plans for you, so I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up about Mason Day saving your ass.” He walked away, heading toward the back office. If Sting was in the club, Jayson was probably sitting in the back room.

Jessica looked at me from behind the bar, a worried set of eyes darting between Sting and I.  If he heard as much as he implied, and he told Jayson, I was in for a world of hurt. But what about Mason, would word get back to Mason’s club?

Just when things started to get brighter, a bigger shit storm headed my way.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MASON

Marcus banged his fist on my door bright and early Saturday morning, waking me up. I didn't need to meet the Disciples for a few more hours for the next run. Whatever his problem was, it pissed him off enough for him to nearly rip down my door.

              “What’s the deal?” I flung open the door to find his scowling face glaring at my door.

              “The deal? The deal is I’m hearing shit I don't like.” His fat hand shoved my chest and barreled into my room. 

              I ran my hand over my eyes, trying to get my brain to wake up like the rest of my body. “Prez, I don't know what you’re talking about. Can you fill me in?” I grabbed the jeans dangling from my dresser and jammed my legs into them. I had enough on my mind without adding his bullshit to it.

              “I’m talking about Hell’s Disciples. I’m hearing shit from Jayson that you’re making goo-goo eyes at one of his girls. His girls, not one of those whores in the back building.” The way he emphasized his statement put me on edge.

              “What the fuck does that mean, his girls?”

              “His girl—he wants to make her his old lady.” His eyes narrowed, searching my expression.

              “If you’re talking about Lucy, she’s not his old lady. He’s basically holding her hostage.” I couldn’t help the growl of my voice.  The idea of her being his old lady—shit, his anything—made my stomach turn.

              “I don’t give a shit!” The boom of his voice nearly rattled the floor. “This deal with the cartel is worth a fuck of a lot more than some piece of ass you’ve been sticking your dick into.” He pointed a finger at me. “Stay the fuck away from that chick.”

              “So, he’d blow this whole truce over a girl?” I narrowed my eyes this time. Jayson never showed her anything other than hatred from what she said, why would he blow everything over her? 

              “No. He’d show that we are blowing the deal with the cartel and then we’d lose everything. Do you get it?  This club can’t survive a war with those Mexicans.”  The stench of his morning cigar wafted over to me with his tirade. It was too damn early for this shit. I noticed his bloodshot eyes, and the loose spit resting on his beard.  I’d seen him pissed before, but this was more. Worried. He looked rattled and concerned. Like everything was about to implode, and he couldn’t stop it.  “Just stay the fuck away from her. Got it?”

              “Yeah, Marcus. I got it.”  I lifted my hands into the air.  With the condition he was in, there would be no reasoning with him anyway. I’d have to find another way to see Lucy. Because not seeing Lucy wasn’t an option.

              “Good.” He jammed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. “This cartel shit is giving me heartburn.” He ran hand over his chest. “Bernardo wants a sit down. To go over the runs and how they’re being handled. He’ll be here this afternoon. Jayson and his VP will be here.  Since you’re running the show on our end, I want your ass in the room, too.”

              “You got it.” I nodded. 

              “I don’t trust those fucking Disciples.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “This shit about his girl—it’s just smoke up  my ass. That man hasn’t ever given a fuck about anyone for longer than thirty seconds. He just doesn’t want Reaper dick in Disciple pussy.”  He gave a little laugh at that notion.  “Just keep it in your pants when you’re at their club.  You fuck the girls here.” He gave my chest a little shove with his finger on his way to the door. “Or I’ll have Tick cut that shit off.” 

              After the door slammed closed behind him I let out my breath and unclenched my fists. 
Lucy.
If Marcus was barging in on me to bitch me out about her, what had Jayson done to her? She had to get the fuck out of that clubhouse. Even if it meant running away; I could take care of her. Although after seeing Marcus’ reaction just then, the clubhouse might not be the safest place to hide her.

              My door flung open and in walked Tick, wearing a smirk that would normally make me laugh, but that morning I wasn’t in the mood.

              “What? Don’t know how to knock?” I finished pulling my cut on and got my boots.

              “What the fuck for? The only chick you’re interested in lately lives in the next town over. In the wrong club house.” He lit a smoke and jumped on my bed, leaning back against the headboard.

              “I’m not in the mood.” I plucked the cigarette from his lips and took a healthy drag. “Marcus was just in here. You have anything to do with that?”

              “Right. Cuz I’m all about the club politics.”  Tick liked everything about being a MC member, the money, the danger play, the chicks, but politics? He’d rather saw off his own dick.  “What’d he want anyway?”

              I handed back the smoke.  “Tell me to keep away from Lucy.”

              “Really? He’s made that his business?” He shook his head, slow and sad.

              “Says Jayson called him up.”

              “Jayson called?” He raised an eyebrow.

              “I guess some conversations are safe for the cells. Like my sex life.” I handed him back the smoke after taking another drag.

              “I guess you’ll keep it in your pants, then, right?” He gave me a knowing look.  I shoved him back on the bed when he tried to get up, then left him laughing alone while I walked out.

***

              The room had a stale cigarette stench that turned my stomach almost as much as looking across the table at Jayson and Bernardo.  Marcus drummed his fingers on the table, glaring at Tick, who looked damn confused at the moment.

              “The run that’s scheduled for tomorrow?” he asked for the third time. “You want to change the route, double the load, and not increase the men on the run?” If I sat closer I could nudge him, get him to chill out. Bernardo wouldn’t take to anyone disrespecting him, and it seemed that everything was disrespect as far as he was concerned.

              Bernardo set his dark eyed glare on Tick.  He hadn’t said much of anything throughout the entire meeting. Which, honestly, so far had only been a bunch of chest thumping biker shit.  The thin mustache over his lips accentuated his full cheeks.  Scars from dozens of scuffles covered his face, giving him an even more pissed off look.  His head was a bounty of thick black hair, all of which was slicked back away from his face.

“I’m saying,” he started with a thick Spanish accent, “that I want this shipment to be double, because the customer wants it doubled. If you can't handle this, you tell me. I’ll take it somewhere else.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, looking to Jayson and Marcus, who both shook their heads.

“It’ll be done.” Marcus nodded. “No problem.”  Who the fuck was he kidding, no problem? 

The last run we did barely escaped the state troopers because the fucking truck was so heavy we had to skip the weigh station unless we wanted to explain all the cases of drugs and weapons we carried.  The risks were getting higher with each run and all Marcus did was keep nodding and taking them on. 

“The Disciples have no issue. Right, Sting?” Jayson nodded to his little brother, who was sitting next to him. 

“Nope. No issues on our end.” He gave a smug grin, keeping his eyes from meeting mine.

Wise man.             

              “Good. That’s what I want to see.” Bernardo swept his eyes around the room, keeping the frown he’d been nursing since he walked into the club. “I’m glad you two are working this out.  I’d hate to have to cut one of you loose.” He pointed to Marcus and Jayson, who each gave a noncommittal smile. Yeah, yeah, kumba-fucking-ya.  “Lots of money to be had, for all of us.” He tapped his fat finger on the table. “So. Where are the fucking ladies?” His lips split into a large smile, showing off his pearly teeth, and several gold ones, too.

              “I have just the girl for you!” Jayson laughed and slapped the table. “I brought her with me. That’s if Marcus doesn’t mind, I know he’s got some good pussy around here, too.”

              “Fuck. Who said I’d only need one!” Bernardo stood from the chair, and I watched the three of them saunter out of the room, slapping each other on the back.

              “Did he say he brought—”

              “Man, don’t—” Tick’s words were left behind as I pushed my way out into the lounge to find Lucy, dolled up to high hell, walking down another hall with a redhead and Bernardo.  Marcus looked at me from across the room. His eyes held all the warning I needed.
Don’t fuck this up.

              If I barged in, made a scene, Jayson would use it against the club. And since Bernardo would be directly affected by my fit, he’d be just fine letting the Disciples take over the whole territory. Fuck!

              Massy gave me a wary glance as she passed me. “Don’t worry, Mason. It could be worse.” She ran her hand over her still flat belly. “You could have morning sickness.”  She frowned and headed toward the bathrooms.

              “Shit. I’ll be right here, babe.” He called after her, and turned to me. “I know what you want to do, but you can’t. Do you get me, man? You can’t.”

              “This club means that much to you?”

              “Fuck. I love the club, but no—Marcus has been making a fucking mess of shit for a while and this cartel deal, it’s only getting worse. But we don’t need an internal war right now. We need to get through a few more runs, bank the cash, and then we can figure out what to do.”

              “Massy know you thinking of getting out?” I kept my voice low, no need for any of the other brothers knowing our displeasure at the club.

              “Fuck, who do you think opened the savings account? She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she don’t want to raise our kid in this hell hole.” He ran his hand over his bald head. “Man, sometimes I wish we’d listened to our moms.” He slapped my chest and pointed at me with a fierce look. “Don't repeat that. Ever.”

              I laughed. “Fuck if I would. Your ma would never let us live it down, and mine would make my life hell.  Fine. A few more runs.” I kept my eye on that hallway. Knowing what was happening in there made my blood run hot. “Don’t you need to go hold her hair or something?” I jerked my head toward the bathrooms.

              “Nah, she gets pissed when she’s puking. I just need to be there for the cleanup and the hugs. That woman has gotten clingier ever since she got knocked up.”

              “And you love it.” I punched his arm. “I’m good. Go. I won’t fuck this up. Go.”

              “Just hold tight, loverboy, okay?” He dodged my fist and jogged off toward his puking bride.