Page 43 of Mason

Keith nodded. “The cops will want to talk to you. We might get arrested for this.”

“Nah, tell ’em it was self-defense. The fuckers attacked us.”

Keith nodded, understanding. If there was a problem, Kade or Viktor would handle it. These fuckers deserved to be shot for what they’d done, but jail would have to do.

“Cara, Keith’s going to stay with you until the police arrive. He’ll ride to the hospital with you too. I have to get to Jo, or I’d stay too.”

“Jo?” She wiped at her tears, holding the sheet tight against her. “What’s wrong with Jo?”

“Don’t you worry about it. Keith will keep you safe. He’s going to take you to our room and get you some clothes. The police will want yours. I’ll see you at the hospital. We’re gonna take care of you, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled. “I’m not going to tell you it’ll be okay, because that’s a lie, but we’re here for you.”

Before he left, he woke Ben up and explained the situation. The man looked ready to kill. Good.

Then he made his way through the maze of drunken bodies downstairs and outside. The snow and the cold wind hit him in the face as he walked to his truck. The old girl started, and he backed up. The wheels spun a little, but he’d driven on snow for years.

But the weather was going to be difficult. As soon as he hit the main road, he realized just how difficult it was going to be. The roads were a mess, covered in snow and ice. Mason crept along, but after a few minutes, he knew it was useless. He kept sliding and spinning. He was going to wreck his damn truck before he managed to get there.

And that wouldn’t do Jo a damn bit of good.

He slammed his fists against the steering wheel when he pulled over at the first wide spot he found.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Now what the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t walk there, not in this. He’d freeze to death. The temperature was supposed to fall to single digits tonight with the arctic blast.

Think, Mason, think. Who has a truck that can get you there in this storm?

One name popped into his head, and he scrolled through his contacts until he found it. Jackson Rhodes.

The guy answered on the third ring.

“What?” he barked.

“Jackson, it’s Mason. I need a favor.”

“Dude, do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Mason rolled his shoulders, flexing his fist, which was covered in cuts and bruises. “I know it’s late, but I have to get to the hospital, and my truck won’t make it. I had to pull over on the side of the road. Can you come get me in the wrecker?”

“What’s going on?”

He explained about Jo, and Jackson let out a string of cuss words. “Sure, man. I’m at the clubhouse. Won’t take me a minute to walk over to the shop. I’ll be there soon as I can. Tell me exactly where you are.”

Mason did then disconnected the call. He woke up Viktor next, telling him about Jo and that he was on his way to the hospital, but not to try to come out until the roads cleared up. After hearing he had to call a wrecker for his truck, Viktor reluctantly agreed.

Next, he tried calling Jo, but she didn’t answer. She could be talking to the police or the doctors. So he texted to let her know he was coming, but it would take a while because of the storm.

It took Jackson an hour to show. An hour of him going out of his mind because Jo was alone. Why the fuck did Mother Nature decide to send a snow apocalypse tonight, of all nights?

“Sorry!” Jackson waved Mason over. “Deacon had the wrecker out. Had to wait on him to get back.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate this.” Mason buckled his seat belt.

“Your girl okay?”

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