“How do you know where he is, where she is?” I pulled my pistol from my back pocket, cocked it, and aimed it between his eyes.
“You were going to leave the club!” He put his hands in front of his face, like that would stop my bullet from blowing out his brains. “He knew Lucas was up to something. When Bernardo was killed he reached out. I didn’t know their plans. Fuck.” He winced as my knee pressed into his stomach. “He took her, she’s just bait, Mason.”
“You thought keeping her hostage would keep me in your fucking club?” Spit flew from my mouth, landed on his face. “If one fucking hair is hurt on her, one hair, I’m coming back here to jam this up your ass before I pull the fucking trigger. Where are they?”
“No, you can’t go yet. First you have to help me with them.” The prick had the balls to point over my shoulder at Lucas and Julio. “Help me get this deal back on our table—”
“Why is this deal so fucking important?” Tick asked casually from his chair. He hadn’t gotten up or moved a fucking muscle since I jumped.
“Tell them,” VP said. I looked up at him, wary and fed up as he nudged Marcus with his foot. “Fucking tell them.”
“The books are empty,” he sputtered. “The club’s broke. The bank wants the clubhouse, the garage, everything. If we don’t keep this deal, we’ll lose everything.”
“How’d that happen?” I turned my gaze on VP, asshole never said anything. In all the meetings, the nights siting around drinking ourselves stupid, he never let on Marcus was running the club into the ground.
“Fuck face there has a little gambling problem. I’ve been covering his ass for months, but it’s too far gone.”
“And you let it happen? You didn’t come to the members with this shit?” Tick leaned forward in his chair. “What about our paydays? We haven’t missed one.”
“No, because I’ve been out hawking shit left and right. Old bikes, old parts. When we took this deal with the cartel it saved use for the past few months. But without it, there’s nothing. Fuck head is five months late on the mortgages. Banker’s knocking down the doors.”
I took a ragged breath. “You stole from the club? You gambled away everything?” I pressed the gun to his forehead. Tears slipped out of his eyes. “You know what? Never mind, what’d you say earlier…right…not my circus. Where the fuck are Jayson and Lucy?”
“Old warehouse off 25. Apartment over the loading docks,” he mumbled. “Mason, please. I need this club.”
“You don’t’ deserve it. Neither of you do.” I looked at Charlie, and uncocked my gun.
“Well, now that the entertainment portion of the evening is over—”
“You fuckers wait.” Tick stood up with fists at his sides. “This asshole is gonna be dealt with by the club, with Mason and me heading out, there’s no one really to take over. Most of the older members are setting up to retire soon, and the others, fuck, most of them only stick around for the pussy and money. Once the money dries up, the pussy will go next, and they’ll follow that out of town.”
“Tick, watch it,” I warned.
“Take him back to the club, he’ll fucking confess and lay it out for them. They join you, or they go nomad. But there’s no Reapers anymore. If the bank’s coming to take everything anyway, better to jump ship.”
Lucas gave a curt nod. “We’ll consider it. When you find Jayson—”
“He’s dead. No way around that,” I cut him off. There would be no deal making, no saving his sorry ass.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“Safe travels.” Julio raised his glass to us again. I shoved off Marcus, ignoring his grunt of pain.
“Yeah. You, too.” I slid my pistol back where it belonged, tucked close to me, and walked out of the room. Tick made sure to step on Marcus’s fat belly as he made his way out behind me.
“Thought you didn’t care about Lucy,” he commented as we reached our bikes.
“Don’t make me hurt you, too.”
CHAPTER FOURTY
LUCY
I sure did know how to make a fucking mess! Feeling like shit over walking away from Mason, I didn’t see Jayson standing in the bus terminal. I saw Tick drive away, leaving me to live with my decision, and I stepped onto the bus.
Jayson jumped on right behind me. Calling me baby, he made a big ruckus about how I was on the wrong bus and that our honeymoon was in Vegas. The few people on the bus didn’t even look up when I tried wrenching myself out of his grasp. He managed to get me off the bus before he threw me over his shoulder. He hollered something about heading off on our honeymoon, and carried me over to his bike. No matter how much wiggling and screaming I did, it didn’t matter. A couple laughed as he walked us past them, commenting on how his bride liked to roleplay.