Page 10 of Mason

“Like hang out with Jackson and his MC?”

There was no mistaking the censure in Viktor’s voice.

Mason had the urge to hit his brother. Just because it was a motorcycle club didn’t mean it wasn’t just as respectable as anything else. Granted, they used to be an outlaw MC until over seventy percent of their guys went to jail, and those left restructured the club’s charter to bring them legit. Viktor knew all this, but he still didn’t care. He looked down his nose at the MC.

Which always pissed Mason off, but today wasn’t the day to get into all that. Jo came first.

“So, the note. Do you think it’s some kind of practical joke?” Jo asked. Mason suspected she did it to get them both off the subject of the MC. She knew Mason really liked the people in it and that he and Viktor had had several fights because of it.

Viktor stared him down for a second and decided to let the matter drop before answering Jo. “Well, have you had any other strange things occur that might make you think it isn’t?”

Jo shook her head. “No.”

“Then it probably is some kind of joke. You’re in a sorority,da?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe it’s a prank a frat is pulling on your house. Check with the other girls to see if they’ve received anything like this. In the meantime, I’ll get to work on the box and the note.”

“That’s what I thought, but the Neanderthal over here decided to make a big deal out of it.”

Mason rolled his eyes at her martyred tone. Girl had no idea how dangerous the world really was. He was as carefree as they came, but he took shit seriously. Especially when it came to her.

“Thanks, man.” Mason bumped fists with his brother, his anger on the back burner for now. He and Jo hung around until Sara returned, and then he drove her back to her sorority before heading to his parents’ house.

Mason backtracked to the family neighborhood, as he called it. Sure, there were other people who lived here, but Viktor, Nikoli, and Dimitri bought up so much land, it should be their very own compound. They wanted to make sure when everyone was ready, there would be enough room, so the three of them basically bought the neighborhood.

Rich people.

Mason winced as he thought it. His brothers hadn’t done it to flaunt their money, and he knew it. They’d done it for family. Hell, Viktor didn’t have even half the money Nik and Dimitri did, but he’d put his fair share in, which proved it wasn’t about the money.

A good thing too, since they needed his parents close by. It still felt like a sucker punch to the gut every single time he thought about his father’s cancer. They had to watch him like a hawk. He’d smoked a pack a day since he was fifteen, and they’d caught him smoking since he came home. Said the things were killing him anyway, so he might as well go out doing what he loved. It scared them all shitless when he talked like that.

He let himself into the house, content to smell baklava baking. Damn, but he missed the smells of home. “Mama, Papa,Babushka?”

“In the kitchen, son.”

His father’s voice didn’t boom like he was used to. Instead, it sounded weaker than he’d ever heard, and it twisted his stomach.

He found his papa sitting at the table with Mama whileBabushkawas bent over, peering into the oven. Ronin Kincaid was a mirror image of his boys, all dark hair and black eyes, while his wife’s golden hair and blue eyes were a stark contrast. Dimitri was the only one who’d inherited his mother’s hair and eye coloring. He stood out like a sore thumb in pictures with the rest of his brothers.

AndBabushka? A carbon copy of his mother, Irinia. Only her hair had gone a softer shade of gray, and she had a few more wrinkles around her eyes these days, but you’d never guess her true age of seventy-five. Woman didn’t look a day over sixty.

“Dobroye utro, malysh.” Mama smiled up at him as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Good morning to you too, Mama.”

“You been gone too long!”Babushkawhirled, the wooden spoon in her hand jabbing toward him. “You no bring that girl here for us to inspect.”

Last time he’d brought Jo over,Babushkahad cornered her and demanded to know if she was giving Mason everything he needed in the bedroom. According to his grandmother, if you kept a man happy in bed and his stomach full of good food, he’d never stray.

He’d found them with Jo backed up against the kitchen wall andBabushkabrandishing her wooden spoon at her. That was over a month ago. Jo had been hesitant to come back, not that he blamed her. You had to get used to his grandmother. She’d meant no harm, but she had no filter either.

His mother let out a frustrated sigh. “You scared the girl, Mama.”

Babushkalet out a startled gasp. “I did not!”

Mason rolled his eyes and sat at the table. “How are you feeling today, Papa?”

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