Page 25 of Living Without

That photo. Fuck, it killed something inside of me.

We needed to find her.

Looking up, my eyes landed on the new chick. If she, in some way, could help us, I was willing to put up with anything.

“Can we get this show on the road?” I demanded. Crossing my arms over my chest.

The room quieted.

For the first time, the woman took in her surroundings. She leaned closer to Julian and said out the corner of her mouth, “You said you were good in bed, but to land one of these hotties… wow.”

“Woman,” Dallas barked. Her eyes went to him and narrowed. “This is men’s business. We don’t need your help. You need to fu—”

Her hand came up, cutting Dallas off. “Oh, no, Viking dude. You did not just go there.” She turned her whole body to face him and took a few steps his way. “Actually, I probably got more balls than all of you put together. My J-man told me what was going down. I can help, so I’m here and I’m staying. In fact, I think I might just take over your bedroom to piss you off even more.”

Dallas leaned in and snarled, “You mind yourself with me, tiny woman.”

“Name’s Melissa. Remember it, Viking man.” She turned her back on him, dismissing him altogether. If I was in the mood, I would have laughed when Dallas’s jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. “Now, I’ve heard talk about this selling women business. Usually they stick to homeless women, but I guess they’re stepping up. Being a woman myself”—she looked over her shoulder to meet Dallas’s glare with her own—“I can’t get an in.But,I know someone who can. If you let me, I’ll ring him and explain what’s going down. He’s a good guy. I’ve known him a long time, even before Julian, and he’ll hate what’s going on. He’ll help, and even though he owes me one, you’ll still owe him in return. The debt he owes me will be to get one of his people over here. The rest will be all yours if you agree.”

“Who?” Dodge asked.

“Davis Mason from the Rebel Wayfarers MC in America.”

Chapter Nine

DAVIS MASON

(Rebel Wayfarers: written by MariaLisa deMora)

Mason leaned one shoulder into the door frame and scanned the crowded room. It had been a family barbecue at the Fort Wayne clubhouse, and his Rebels had kicked into high gear for the much rowdier and not-so-family-friendly party following.

Davis Mason, national president of the Rebel Wayfarers MC, was at home in any of his club’s houses, but probably most so in the Fort, as locals called it. A beautiful brunette caught his eye from the other side of the pool tables, crooking her finger at him from across the room. He grinned as he shook his head. His old lady, Willa, struck a pose and pouted, tipping her chin down as she crooked her finger at him again. “Not happenin’, babe,” he called, and she laughed. She’d already known he wouldn’t be summoned like that.

She whirled and bent at the waist, reaching back and smoothing her jeans over her ass. “Now that is something worth crossing a desert for,” he shouted and started in her direction. A ringing from the office behind him caught his attention, and he twisted to look back. His cell was on the desk in the darkened room, the screen lit up. With his position, every call had the potential to be critical, so he turned, yelling over his shoulder, “Hold that pose, sweetheart,” grinning broadly as he heard Willa’s belling laughter at his back.

Picking up the phone, he saw a name he hadn’t expected. A name he hadn’t seen in years, but one that caused the corners of his lips to tip up in a smile. Engaging the call, he didn’t wait for a greeting, just gave his own. “Iss. Damn, woman, been way too long. What’s shakin’, girl?”

Silence met him, and he was surprised because Melissa Stevenson wasn’t known for her lack of manners. “Iss, everything all right?”

Her whisper cut through him. Melissa wasn’t a whisperer, either. “No, Mason, it’s not. Nothing’s right.” He froze in place at her next words. “You owe me, and the debt’s come due. I hope it’s still good because I’m callin’ it, Mason.”

He did owe her. Had told her more than once, “Whatever you need, Iss. No expire date.”

She sucked in a breath, and that sound told him so much. Whatever this was it would be big. And whatever this was, it mattered to her in a way that struck deep. With a shaking voice, she tried to joke, “Good to know, Mason. But stop calling me Iss. You know I hate that nickname.” When she forced a laugh, the sound broke in the middle, and she cut it off abruptly. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

He reached behind him and grabbed the door handle, easing it closed, feeling the click as the lock settled into place in the frame. With the noise of the party muted, he walked around the desk to the window and looked out at the sea of motorcycles covering the clubhouse lot. Then he tipped his head to the side, and told her, “Tell me.”

Ten minutes later, he reopened the door and again, stood in the doorway. Two members had taken up station against the wall, having moved there when he shut the door, signalling club business was going on inside. “Deke,” he spoke to one of the men. “Find Gypsy. Let him know I wanna have a chat.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “PDQ, brother. Need him five minutes ago. Also, I want Myron, now.”

“On it,” Deke responded, disappearing into the mass of bodies.

Mason knew his tech wizard would be able to find any kind of footprint the sick fuckers had left behind. Would get what they needed to help save the girl. Those bastards wouldn’t be able to hide from Myron. He’d find them eventually, faster than Gypsy could get in the air, probably. From what Iss had told him, they could use all the leverage they could bring to bear. Mason tipped his chin down, studying his boots. Selling women like property.Not happening when I can make a difference. He thought of the Rebel old ladies, the daughters of his men. Thought of the picture Iss had texted him. Stomach lurching, he vowed,Not happening. When it came to it, Mason would be happy to make the deal to buy the woman, and then his brother would be there to take the entire fucked-up operation down.

He felt Willa’s eyes on him and found her in the crowd. She stared, locking gazes with him, her face alert, no longer laughing and joking as she tried to read whatever was troubling him. Mason held out one hand, and she left her friends immediately, swiftly coming to him and letting him pull her into his arms. They’d been together for only a couple of years, but the way she knew and understood him made it seem a lifetime. Tipping her head back, she stared up at him, and he marvelled at all the beauty she gave him. “Got a little business to tend to, sweetheart. Nothing bad, just business.” In a different time, he would have been the one taking this assignment. Knowing what he had in his bed made him glad he could send another in his place.

“Prez,” he heard from beyond Willa, and Mason looked up to see Gypsy standing with Deke.

Mason bent his neck, brushing his lips across Willa’s, whispering, “Back in a few,” before he turned and stalked into the office, followed closely by Gypsy.

---