Page 72 of Rampage

"As I'll ever be," I reply, watching the trees blur past the window. I feel different today—stronger, more present. The constant weight of fear that's been my companion for so long has lifted, leaving me almost dizzy with its absence.

We drive in comfortable silence for a while, Mason's presence steady and reassuring beside me. Unlike Reid, who fills silence with warmth and conversation, Mason's quiet has its own kind of comfort.

"How's Meadow doing?" I ask, turning to look at him. "I've been so caught up in everything, I haven't had a chance to ask about her."

Something shifts in Mason's expression—a tightening around his eyes, a subtle tension in his jaw. "She's okay," he says, but there's an undercurrent in his tone that catches my attention.

"There's something wrong," I say, not a question but a statement. "What's going on with her?"

Mason's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "She's having trouble at the hospital. One of the senior doctors has been… inappropriate with her."

"Inappropriate how?" I ask, my body tensing instinctively.

"Peterson," Mason practically spits the name. "Head of the OB department. He's been making comments, finding excuses to touch her, cornering her in supply closets." His knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. "Started out subtle enough that she doubted herself, but it's gotten worse."

A familiar anger rises in my chest, the same rage I felt watching other girls being mistreated in foster care. "Has she reported him?"

Mason's bitter chuckle tells me everything. "She tried. The hospital administration brushed it off—Peterson's too valuable, brings in too many wealthy patients. Said she was overreacting, that it was a 'misunderstanding' about mentorship."

"That's bullshit," I say, the profanity slipping out before I can stop it.

"Gets worse," Mason continues, jaw tight. "Since she reported him, the other doctors have started freezing her out. Little mistakes get magnified, her procedures get rescheduled, charts go missing. They're trying to make her look incompetent."

"Because she spoke up," I murmur, understanding all too well how systems protect the powerful.

Mason nods grimly. "Reid doesn't know how bad it's gotten. Meadow made me promise not to tell him, says he's got enough on his plate with his residency. And with you."

Guilt flickers through me, but Mason shakes his head as if reading my thoughts. "Don't. This isn't on you. Meadow's proud of you for standing up to Frank. She wants to handle Peterson herself, prove she can fight her own battles."

We pull into the diner parking lot, but neither of us moves to get out. I turn to face Mason fully.

"What are you going to do?"

His eyes meet mine, cold and determined. "Whatever it takes to protect her. But I'm trying to respect her wishes, let her handle it professionally first."

"And if that doesn't work?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

A dangerous smile curves his lips. "Then Peterson learns why fucking with an MC woman is a fatal mistake."

The fierce protection in his voice reminds me so much of Reid that my heart squeezes. "Let me talk to her," I offer. "Maybe I can help."

Mason studies me for a moment, then nods slowly. "She's working the night shift tonight. Ends at eight a.m. tomorrow."

"I'll call her," I promise, reaching for the door handle. Before I exit, I turn back to him. "Thank you for telling me.”

My hand still on the door handle, I say, "You know, I don't think I've properly thanked you. Not just for the ride, but for everything. The way you all stepped up for me—you, Reid, Lane, Christopher, all of you." My voice softens with genuine emotion. "The MC has been more of a family to me in these few weeks than I've had my entire life."

Mason shifts uncomfortably at the praise, his eyes dropping to the steering wheel.

"Seriously," I continue, "I don't know what would have happened if Reid hadn't brought me to the club that night. You guys protect your own with everything you have. It's… incredible."

"It's what we do," Mason says, though I catch the hint of pride in his voice.

"Well, it saved my life. So, thank you." I reach over and squeeze his arm briefly. "For the protection, the backup at Frank's house, even for making sure I get to work safely. You're good men—all of you."

A slight flush creeps up Mason's neck, and he clears his throat. "Better get inside before Deb thinks you're not coming back."

I smile at his discomfort with my gratitude and climb out of the truck. "I'll call Meadow later," I promise before closing the door.

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