by Erin Trejo
“It’s been months, brother. Why don’t you just go see her?” he asks.
“Like fuckin’ hell I will. She ain’t mine Axle. Why the hell would I go after her like that?”
“Cause it’s fuckin’ with you, motherfucker,” Viking says from behind me. He slaps his hand on my shoulder. Glancing over my shoulder, I just shake my head at Viking.
“I’m good. As always. I don’t know what the fuck you dicks are talkin’ about,” I say before I bring my beer to my lips. I’ll admit that I have nightmares. I find her in that bathroom, but it isn’t her, it’s Briann. That alone sets me on edge. I know my sister is dead. I know she isn’t here anymore, but the sight I see is just too much.
“Walk with me,” Ink snaps at me. I shake my head once more before I shove off the stool and follow him outside. Stepping into the heat of Miami, sweat prickles at my neck almost immediately.
“I miss her too, Mason. She was one of us. She meant a lot to me, but you can’t keep blamin’ everything on yourself,” he says. Ink knows me better than any of the other guys. He was into Briann. He loved her in his own fucked up way. I knew they fucked around a few times, but I never realized until after she died just how deep their connection went.
“How do you know what I’m doin’? She isn’t Briann. What the hell Ink?” I question him. Taking a step toward him, he just chuckles. He doesn’t back down as he looks directly into my eyes.
“You think I don’t see it? The fuckin’ guilt? I see it Mason. I see it every goddamn day that you live without Briann. You’re doin’ it right now with that girl. You didn’t cause it. Whatever demons she was runnin’ from, they didn’t come from you.” He pulls a cigarette from behind his ear. I pull the lighter from my pocket and light it up.
“I still dream about it, brother. I see Briann’s face every damn time. I saw the same thing in Whit too. I should have known somethin’ wasn’t right with her. It wasn’t right with Briann, and I fuckin’ ignored it. Where did that get her? Briann’s dead and Whit tried to kill herself,” I tell him honestly. My heart hurts. It’s not just for my sister either. It aches for Whitley and whatever the hell she went through. I can’t fix it though. I can’t make it any better, so what’s the point in even trying?
“Fuck me. That girl has a mess of her own. Don’t do this shit to yourself.”
I blow out a ring of smoke before I toss my cigarette to the ground and snuff it out with the toe of my boot.
“I’m gonna go check on shit at Joe’s. He had a problem with some of the Dwellers about a week ago. Tell Viking I’ll call and let him know what’s goin’ on,” I say as I walk away. I need a minute. I need time to let my head work around what happened. I’m not doing anyone any good until I can work through this shit.
Climbing on my bike, I let my rage and anger course through my veins as I ride. That’s the best I can do at the moment. I have to get this shit out of me somehow, and if I’m not killing someone this is my next best bet. I rev my bike, taking the curves at the highest possible speed I can. Every fucking demon that haunts my life sits at the edge of the road. They’re taunting me and laughing at me. One day I’ll be with Briann and our mom again. One day I won’t have to worry about any of this shit, but today is not that day. I have people that rely on me. My club is relying on me.
I watched the heartache that tore through our chapter in California when Crow, one of theirs, killed himself. I watched as everyone spiraled out of control. Shit got bad for them for quite a while. They’ve slowly made their way back, but when it happened, they crumbled. I couldn’t imagine leaving my boys like that. I understand why Crow did what he did, and I don’t really blame him either. His life was as hard as anyone else’s was, probably far more after what he lived with.
Losing a child had to be the worst feeling in the world. I know when my mom died, it stole a piece of me, but it stole more from Briann.
Pulling into Joe’s I park around the back and climb off my bike. Heading in the direction of the back door, I spot him immediately.
“Heard you had some issues,” I say catching his attention. Joe turns to face me slowly with his brows furrowing with annoyance.
“Some? Are you shitting me? Those fuckers have been giving me hell,” Joe grumbles. I nod my head and take a step closer.
“What have they been doin’?” I ask, following him out into the bar area before I lean against the counter.
“Coming in here demanding I tell them where you guys are holding your shit. I told them I don’t know anything. That false wall has been a fuckin’ godsend.” I watch the worn look on Joe’s face and it pisses me off. He shouldn’t have to deal with this shit on our account.
“We have a place out about thirty minutes. We’re workin’ on getting’ it ready. We won’t be usin’ you anymore after that Joe. Viking wants to compensate you though.” Joe shakes his head, running a hand through his greying hair.
“I don’t need it. I’m doing fine here Mason. You know I don’t mind helping you guys out. You have always helped me when I needed it.” I nod my head in agreement as I stand up off the counter.
“Yeah, but still. We don’t want you doin’ our shit for free,” I chuckle. Joe nods his head before looking up at me.
“Can I ask you a question Mason?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“What happened with Whitley?” Fuck. This is not something I wanted to talk about. My chest is heavy with everything that happened.
“She got in too deep with our agreement. I don’t know what happened when she was off with Armando, Joe. I wish to fuck I did. I fucked up; I should have stopped her. I found her in the shower half fuckin’ dead. By the time the paramedics got there, they had to revive her.” Joe curses under his breath before placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I need you to talk to her Mason. She’s so fucking off right now. She isn’t herself. I don’t know what to do, or how to help her.”
“No can do, Joe.”
“Mason, she will do it again if she doesn’t get herself under control.”
14
Whitley
The day I woke up in the hospital I was fucking pissed. He just left me there. Not that I expected him to stay or anything, but after what I’d gone through for him, he could have at least waited until I woke up. He left the fucking money with a nurse. A fucking nurse? Jackson lost his ever-loving mind when I came back home. He wanted to go after Mason. I knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
“Hey sugar, get me a beer?” the asshole at the other end of the bar yells. I throw him a dirty look over my shoulder and flip him my middle finger.
“Some people are so impatient,” Carla says. I smile at her and nod.
“Assholes. They act like my life revolves around serving them as if I have no other customers. So, tell me, what is up with Mr. Hottie?” I lean over the counter and listen to her talk. I do this a lot but often find myself zoning out. I hear bits and pieces, but never the whole conversation.
“Hey slut, I want my damn drink!” the guy roars again pulling me back to reality. Before I can say another word, I hear a crunch and then a scream. Spinning on my heel I see the guy being tossed to the floor. It’s not until I read the cut that I realize who did the tossing. I’ve done a good job of avoiding him lately. I knew he’d come in at some point though.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he roars as the man staggers to his feet. Mason turns slowly. His eyes lock with mine. Regret, anger, hurt, it’s all there in his eyes. I hate to see it all, because it’s not his fault.
“To what do I owe the pleasure? Although the pleasure hasn’t been given in quite a while,” I tease him. His eyes are like stone and his entire body is rigid.
“Get me a beer, yeah?” he asks while sitting on the stool he just threw the asshole out of. I give him a wink before turning and grabbing him a beer out of the cooler. When I set it on the counter in front of him, Mason moves. He quickly grabs my wrist in his hand. Heat dances its way through my body.
�
�How you been? I haven’t been in here for a while,” he says softly as if we’ve been best friends forever.
“Well, the tips have been great. I haven’t been fucked in the alley in a while, so I do sort of miss that. How are you?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant and you damn well know it.”
“Mason look, we had a deal. The Armando shit was on me. I shouldn’t have gone. I messed up. Let it go,” I tell him trying to pull my wrist free. It doesn’t work and his free hand comes up to tug on the end of my hair.
“You cut your hair,” he says gently.
“You like it?”
“Yeah, I do. Can’t pull on it that short, but it looks good on you.” What the hell is this? What the fuck are we doing here?
“I need to get back to work,” I tell him, slowly pulling my wrist free of his grasp.
“Whit. Why’d you do it?” His question sends tears burning through the back of my eyes. I don’t want to answer him. I can’t. Not now. Doesn’t seem to matter though as his piercing gaze stays on mine. My body trembles as he takes me in. The way he holds me hostage with that stare alone, makes me want to tell him everything. Like, my whole life story. But for what? Where would that get us? Nowhere, which is where I’m stuck.
“It was a mistake. I learned my lesson. I’m sorry that you had to be the one to find me,” I say in a near whisper. Mason’s hand moves up to cup my cheek. I find myself wanting to nuzzle into him.
“I’m not sorry, Whit. If I hadn’t kicked that door in, you’d be dead.”
“Why is that such a bad thing?” Before he has a chance to respond his hand falls away from me. He stands quickly and rounds the bar, coming straight for me. I stand there in shock. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into him.
“It would have been a bad thing. It was a bad thing. My sister died. I have fuckin’ nightmares every damn night of you and her. How the fuck do I make that stop now? Huh? How Whitley? Tell me!” Mason snaps in my face. Customers bellow around us, but I can’t focus. I’m lost in him; lost in his words.
“I’m sorry Mason. I didn’t mean for that to haunt you. I’m just so confused about my life right now. Nothing has ever made sense to me, and it still doesn’t. I don’t know what my next move is. I don’t know where to turn. I just need to do this shit day by day. I’m sorry, Mason. I really am.” As much as it hurt to admit that, I had to tell him. I had to get at least that much off my chest. Mason doesn’t let go of me. He holds me as if there’s an invisible line that connects the two of us.
“I know how that feels Whit. You didn’t have to do that. I was there. Whatever he did to you I can’t help fix it if I don’t know about it.” The sincerity in his voice slams into me. Would he have possibly gone after Armando? Would he have made them feel the pain I did? He doesn’t even know me.
“We aren’t the same kind of person, Mason. Whatever shit I get myself into is just that. My shit. It doesn’t concern you and I’m sorry that you had to be the one to find me, but” my sentence is cut off by his lips caressing mine. His tongue slides over my bottom lip before I can open my mouth to finish what I was saying. Mason takes the opportunity to sneak his tongue in. The way his tongue glides over mine is intoxicating. From the second I met him, I knew he was something different. Something more.
“Jesus Christ why is there always something going on in my bar?” Joe snaps behind us. Mason pulls back slightly with a smile on his face. Pecking one more kiss to my lips, he steps back, and then turns back to walk back around the bar. All I can do is watch him. I’m standing in stunned silence as he takes his seat at the end of the bar again.
“Whit? Are you okay?” Joe asks. I reach up and press my fingers to my lips as I nod.
“I think I’m good,” I say softly, not entirely sure that I am.
“Whitley I need to head out, babe. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow.” I turn my head to look at Carla as she calls out to me. I nod my head absently watching her giggle as she tosses money onto the counter.
What the hell just happened here? I’m so fucking confused. Even more so now than before he kissed me, but why the hell did he kiss me? Glancing back over at Mason, he’s just sitting there with a beer in his hands and a smirk on his face.
15
Mason
I waited around until the bar closed. No one of interest showed up while I was here; probably why they didn’t show up. I would have fucked them into hell and back if they had. I went outside and waited on Joe and Whitley to lock up for the night. Joe left quickly, but Whitley didn’t. Moving slowly she walked up and down the sidewalk in front of the bar until I finally stepped into view like a crazed stalker.
“You not goin’ home?” I ask. Whitley jolts, obviously not seeing me there.
“Fucking hell, Mason. Why did you have to scare the shit out of me?” she snaps while I chuckle.
“I didn’t mean to. You need a ride?” Her eyes search my face before she chews her bottom lip. Fuck me, she would have to do it all sexy like too.
“Sure,” she says raising her shoulder in a shrug. I usher her to behind the building and into the alley. Whit laughs when I walk past the spot I first fucked her.
“You rememberin’ that night?” I ask her. Whitley nods and smiles. She’s perfection. She’s perfect in her own fucked up way.
“It was fun. I do have to admit though that it was the first time I’d ever fucked in an alley.” Her admission makes me laugh. It’s a real laugh. One I haven’t let free in a very long time.
“You’re shittin’ me?”
“Nope. I’ve fucked in many, many places, but never in an alley. Well, until that night anyways,” she beams up at me.
“Glad I could be your first then. Where you headed?” I ask her, passing her my helmet. I didn’t plan on having her on the back of my bike tonight, as of matter of fact I didn’t plan on having her on it ever again, but life seems to have had other plans.
“My place is over on…”
“Ninth,” I say not letting her finish. She raises an eyebrow and studies me for a minute before it registers with her.
“You picked me up,” she grumbles to herself.
“Yes, I did do my homework on you too, Whit. I don’t just fuck random girls and then save them, ya know?” Her laughter belts out of her shocking me.
“You mean you check into all the girls you fuck in back alleys? That is very high up there on the creeper scale. As a matter of fact, my creeper beeper is going crazy right now,” she laughs even harder.
“Your what is doin’ what?” I’m confused as fuck right now.
“My creeper beeper. It’s like a sixth sense. I can tell when someone is a straight up weirdo. You are setting that fucker off right about now,” she says while giggling.
“Get your ass on my bike. If I was such a creeper then you wouldn’t have gone to Key Largo with me,” I tease her.
Whit laughs again and it makes me smile. This is the side of her I wished she’d show more people. The one that doesn’t think dying is a good thing. She’s vibrant and full of life. I climb on and help her on behind me before revving the engine up. I pull out of the alley slowly and hear the rumble of another bike. Fuck. I kill my bike and slowly roll it back into the alley.
“What are we doing?” Whitley asks. I throw my finger up to my lips to silence her as I look over my shoulder. Pointing to my ears, she seems to get what I’m trying to tell her. I climb off with her right behind me.
“I’m gonna go around front to have a look. You stay here,” I tell her. Whitley nods her head, and then leans against the brick wall as if this is nothing new to her. For her to be laughing one second and so clueless the next, amazes me.
Moving slowly and silently around the side of the building, I listen as the engine of yet another bike roars through the streets. Peeking around the corner I see one of the Dwellers parked out front, in the distance I can hear more coming. Fuck me, I’m outnumbered here. It would take the guys too long
to get here. Jogging around to the back again, I find Whit where I left her.
“We need to set off the alarm. There’s an asshole out front, and I can hear more coming any minute; too many for me to fight,” I tell her. Whit watches me with wide eyes. “You have a problem ridin’ home with me tonight? I’m gonna need to get us out of here as quickly and as far as I can in a short amount of time. I need to talk to my boys, and then I can take you home.” Whitley watches me intently before she walks toward the back door. She doesn’t say a word, but when she starts fumbling with the door handle, I know what she’s doing.
The scream of the alarm breaks the silence of the night. Whitley turns with a wide smile before racing back to me. I climb back on my bike quickly. Whit leaps and jumps on behind me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. In the matter of seconds, I’m speeding out of the alley and down the road.
The sound of gun shots can vaguely be heard over the roar of my engine. Whitley holds on even tighter as I move the bike through the streets. Weaving in and out of cars and trucks I make my way to the clubhouse. I know most of the guys are in there since its Friday night.
Having Whitley on the back of my bike doesn’t feel off this time. It makes me feel content. Like, I know she’s safe and out of harm’s way, either her own or made by others.
After speeding most of the way, I slow the bike as I pull up in front of the clubhouse. It isn’t like what they have out in California. We don’t all live here. It’s your basic warehouse turned clubhouse. We all have rooms here, in case of a lockdown or whatever shit might come our way, and we sure as fuck have used them more than once.
“Come on,” I extend my hand to her after climbing off my bike. I reach forward and pull the helmet from her head. I put the helmet on the seat before grabbing her hand in mine.
“They were shooting at us weren’t they?” she asks. Her voice isn’t even shaking. When I glance down at her I can see the high in her eyes.
