Mason_ Inked Reapers MC(1)(45)

“Does Bernardo know there won’t be any Disciples with us?” I asked over the roar of my engine.



“Yeah, I told you, they get the next one.” His eyes shifted when he spoke and another shiver ran down my spine. Everything told me to get out of that run. Not to step foot on Mexican soil. But he was my president, and until I took my out, I didn’t have much choice. “Where you going anyway? If you’re going to make it close to the border by nightfall, you need to get your ass in gear.”



“Going to see my ma before we go. Need to drop off her rent. I’ll be back in an hour.” He didn’t look any more convinced about my lie than I did his, but we left it at that.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



LUCY





Mason’s message scared me. Usually he gave me a time to meet him the next day, never has he told me where to meet him right away. Thankfully, Jayson had taken a few prospects out for a joy ride, or whatever they did when they all rode out of the compound together. Lucas had gone with them, so I didn’t have the guilt of his eyes on me as I slipped into my car and rolled out of the garage.



When i pulled into the back lot of the diner, Mason’s bike sat empty beside the back door. He’d never parked in the open before, he’d always pull into the garage. My insides twisted again with the feeling bad things were going to happen in a few minutes. Had he been found out? Should I just reverse out and run away?



Before I could decide, the side door of the garage opened and Mason stepped out. He waved



me over to him. The man needed to learn to stop beckoning me. Even if it did make my heart flutter when he crooked his finger at me. A girl needed to draw a line, too, right? His blonde hair looked tousled, like he’d been dragging his hand through it over and over again.



His usually soft and domineering eyes looked firm and worried. The wrinkle in his brow didn’t give me any more confidence. When I stepped into the garage, he shut and locked the door. “Lucy, I’m leaving,” he blurted out before I even stepped off the stoop inside the door.



“Okay.” I forced myself to nod. He hadn’t said “we were leaving,” he said he was leaving.



Maybe his club put more pressure on him to ignore me, like Lucas was doing with me. I really couldn’t be mad, I told myself. Jayson had threatened his mother. I knew what losing a mom was like, and I wouldn’t blame him for hightailing it away from me. “That’s fine.” I kept nodding while he stared at me with a more wrinkled expression.



“I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving town,” he clarified with his arms folded over his chest. The muscles in his biceps tensed in that position. I just kept nodding. This is what my stomach was doing back flips about. He was going. I was going to be alone again. There would be no leaving Jayson. Lucas was right about that. “Lucy.” He reached out and gripped my shoulders. “I’m not leaving town to leave you. I’m going on some business. I’ll be gone a week, maybe two.” His eyes caught mine, and the familiar shiver worked its way down my spine.



“Oh.” I could feel the muscles in my body relax and my breath came a little easier to me. “I mean, if you wanted to go, really go, I get that. It’d be okay,” I continued on. “I get that. I’d understand.” His eyes narrowed as I continued to rant my way through the end of my panic attack. By the time I finished the concerned soft look had turned into a dark, angry glare. “What?”

“Do you really think I’d do that? Just leave town and leave you behind? Didn’t I tell you that you’re mine?”



“Well, yeah, but I mean—”

“Didn’t I say that you’d be leaving with me? That you were going with me?”

“Yes, but—”

“So you think I lied?”

“No! It’s just, I’d understand—” Before I could finish my sentence he had me spun around and doubled over his arm. My feet brushed the concrete floor, his hand bit into my side as he held me with my ass in the air. “What are you doing?” I kicked my legs but that didn’t stop him from making his mark. A heavy hand landed on my backside, the cotton dress did nothing to protect me from the burning sting of his hand as he brought it down again and again.



By the time he finished with me, tears were rolling off my cheeks and pooling on the floor, mingling with the remnants of oil and gasoline. I no longer fought his grip, but sagged over his arm, he’d let my feet back on the ground to help me balance while he finished spanking me.



He helped me stand and then pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead and my cheek. “When I say you’re mine, If fucking mean it. I don’t mean that you’ll get to decide if I stick around or if I follow through with what I say. It means I said it and it’s going to fucking happen.”