Page 55 of Possession

Shrugging, he took a sip of the beer he’d been nursing since they’d been seated. “My abuela died a decade ago, and my mom moved down to Arizona a few years back, said she was tired of the winters here. I talk to her on the phone quite often, but I don’t get down there to visit with her as much as I’d like. Luckily, Jill and her husband go at least once a year with the kids.”

“Your dad?” Mason asked softly.

Tomas shook his head. “He died when I was young. Cancer.”

Mason slid his hand across the table, grabbing Tomas’s and squeezing. The pain of his father’s death was an old wound, scarred over and only really hurt when he pressed on it, but he still appreciated the sweet gesture.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, cielito.”

“My parents died when I was in high school in a car accident,” Mason offered with a sad sort of smile of commiseration.

It was Tomas’s turn to clutch at his hand as sympathy ripped through him. He couldn’t imagine losing both of his parents at the same time. “Who’d you end up living with?”

“Vinnie and his parents. We only had two years left of school, and I was over there all the time before that, so it seemed like a natural fit. Especially since I didn’t have any other family in the state. They were able to get approved as emergency fosterparents and then went through the process of legally adopting me. It took nearly the whole two years,” he added, his voice a little distant.

“Are you still close with his folks, then?”

Mason shook his head. “Not long before we graduated, they found out that Vinnie and I were a couple, not just best friends, and they kicked us out right afterward, and we haven’t seen them since.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Tomas said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe people who do shit like that. Has it just been the two of you since you were eighteen, then?”

Mason nodded. “We struggled at first. Vinnie knew what he wanted to be and was able to get into the two-year program at a community college to be a respiratory therapist, but I had a hard time figuring it out. I did about a year and a half at the university here in town before I finally accepted that it wasn’t for me and ended up dropping out.”

He glanced at Tomas then, a little vulnerable, like he was worried Tomas would think worse of him for not having a college degree.

“It’s not for everyone,” Tomas agreed. “I was in my thirties before I finished my master’s. Jill got a certificate from a community college—something computer related—and then she and David opened the restaurant. Everyone has their own path.”

Mason stared at him for a long second and then exclaimed, “You have a master’s degree?”

Tomas chuckled. “I do. I have an MBA.”

“You have an MBA and you spend your days managing a bunch of unruly bikers?”

“There’s a little bit more to it than that,” he defended good-naturedly, “but essentially, yes.”

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised,” Mason said, shaking his head. “It’s not like I think you’re not smart enough for that. It’s just not what I was expecting.”

“It’s alright, cielito. I’m not insulted.”

“Well, good, because that’s impressive as hell. It goes along with all the other impressive things you and the MC do.”

Tomas shrugged. “A lot of that is due to other people. It’s rarely just me.”

Making a face like he didn’t believe him, Mason asked, “How did you guys get involved helping the shelter?”

“When Six joined up, he didn’t really talk a lot?—”

“Unlike now?” Mason said sarcastically.

“Don’t sass me when I’m telling you something.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Mason said softly, glancing out at the rest of the restaurant, but no one was paying them attention anymore.

Tomas gave his hand a quick squeeze, letting him know it was okay—the sassing and the honorific in public. “Anyway, Six didn’t talk a lot, so it took me a while to realize he was visiting his mom pretty regularly and helping her out with stuff and that the two of them volunteered at SAVE every week.”

“That’s the DV shelter, right?”

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