Page 47 of Cassie
Start with hello
Hoss
“Dammit.” Hoss rummaged through his sidebag again. He’d taken everything out and laid it in order on the pavement of the parking lot. They had been stopped for gas near the Little Rock clubhouse when he’d reached for his phone, only to find it gone from his pocket. The column would be spending the night at the small compound and he’d already flagged one of the rooms for his use, taking the stairs two at a time to drop his bag on the bed and start looking. Now, even though there was no real reason to assume his phone would have been in anything other than the pocket of his jeans where he always kept it, he was down at the bikes again, systematically going through the rest of his belongings. “Fuck.”
“Lose something?” Mason’s tone held laughter, and Hoss angled his head back so he could glare up at his friend.
“Fuck. You.” He’d gotten to the bottom of the bag without finding the phone and began to reassemble the contents, placing each item back into position one by one.
“What’d you lose, Hoss?” Mason hunkered down on the other side of the bike, thumbing the locks on the bag there.
“I already checked that side.” Hoss finished storing everything and dusted his palms on his thighs before pushing upright. “My goddamned phone. I lost my goddamnedphone.”
“Why didn’t you say so? It’s a club phone, right?” Hoss nodded and Mason scanned the parking area, giving out a piercing whistle before he shouted, “Myron, to me.”
“Dammit. If I wanted everyone to know I lost it, I would have told everyone.”
“I’m not everyone,” Myron said from behind him, then asked, “What’d you lose?” He stepped to where Hoss could see him and grinned. “I’m good at finding things.”
“He lost his phone.” Mason closed the flap on the bag he’d been toying with and stood. “Do your techie woo-woo shit and find it.”
“It’s not woo-woo.” Myron’s complaint seemed half-hearted, because it was said under his breath, his attention already focused on the small tablet he pulled from a bag slung around his shoulders. “It’s science.”
“Well science your way to tellin’ Hossman where his shit is.” Mason laughed, rounded the bike and gave Myron’s neck a shake. “Make with the woo-woo.”
“Mason.” Hoss looked up at the shout and studied Chismoso as he stalked across the parking lot towards their little knot of bikes and people. The man had done well in Little Rock, holding the chapter together against all odds after they’d been devastated by losses in the war against the Diamante. It had seemed counterintuitive at first, placing an ex-Diamante officer in charge of Little Rock, but damned if it didn’t work. First as a special assignment, and then as chapter president, Chismoso seemed to have a knack for pulling the right people into place at the right time.A lot like Mason. Also like Mason, Chismoso’s initiation into the biker’s life and world had been behind a madman’s hand at the helm, and they’d both come out the other end with a deep understanding of what they didn’t want in a club or a brother.
“Chismoso, brother.” Mason met him halfway and gripped his wrist in a warrior’s clasp, then pulled the big man in for a one-armed clinch. “Good to see you, man.”
“And you. You don’t get down this way often enough for me, Mason.” Chismoso pulled back and looked around Mason, flashing a quick grin at Hoss. “Good to see you, too.”
“It’s in Fort Wayne. That’s the best I can tell. It’s off right now, maybe a dead battery, but not an hour ago it flashed off a couple of towers in the area.” Myron kept his head bent, studying the screen of his tablet. “Hey, Chismoso. How’s it hangin’?”
“It’s all good here, Myron.” Chismoso looped an arm around Mason’s shoulders as he turned. “We’ve a hell of a party planned tonight.” He glanced around the lot. “Where’re the old ladies? I heard you had a convoy headed my way.”
“They’re at a hotel.” Mason rolled his eyes. “With a spa.” He chuckled. “I’m not quite sure what my old lady expects from this trip, if she’s not willin’ to be where I am. But if it makes her happy?” He shrugged and Chismoso laughed.
“Happy wife, happy life.”
“Amen,” Hoss said. “Was it moving when it pinged stuff, Myron?” Myron shook his head. “Do you know where it was in the city at least?”
“Northeast side, best I can do until it gets turned back on.” Myron tapped the screen and then put the tablet away. “I’ve set an alert so if it comes online, I’ll capture the location. You need another phone while we’re out?”
Hoss shook his head. “No, I’ll just…figure something else out. Thanks for checking. Good to know it didn’t fall on the side of the road somewhere.”
“Don’t you have to call your woman and check in?” Mason tipped his head to the side. “Or is she one of those special kind that don’t require it?” He grinned. “Or, is she completely made up and you’re just not yet willing to admit it?”
“She’s flesh and bone, brother. And if she were speaking to me, she’d probably want me to check in.” He shrugged and winced as he saw the smile fall away from Mason’s face. “But since she’s not on speaking terms with me right now, then I’d say I’m safe to not call. Probably best, actually.”
“What happened? You were headed there last night.” Mason stepped away from Chismoso and Hoss watched as the other two men closed ranks, pulling their little circle small, their actions protective in a way that told him they’d have his back no matter what.
This is brotherhood. “She took offense to not being invited to the party.” He rolled his eyes at the identical stunned expressions facing him. “I know, stupid move on my part.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s way stupid.” Myron huffed out an annoyed breath of air. “Nobody, be they man or woman, wants to feel like the outsider.”
“Yeah, but you’ve heard about Cassie, right? She’s got anxiety problems, and I didn’t want her to feel pressured to come to the clubhouse. She wouldn’t have enjoyed herself, and it would have made her even more nervous to feel like she was letting me down if she either couldn’t come at all, or came and then had to leave.” He lifted his hands palm out. “And before you tell me that’s a stupid way to think, I already know that, too.”
“Fucked up, brother.” Chismoso pursed his lips. “Groveling is probably your best route from here.”
