Page 29 of Her Savior Biker
She freezes mid-wipe. The life drains from her face, leaving it a still, tight mask. The rag falls from her hands, hitting the floor with a wet slap that echoes in the sudden quiet.
“Hello, Shannon.” Mason’s voice carries clearly across the bar, drawing every eye. “We need to talk.”
I’m already moving, but Tank’s voice stops me cold.
“Savior. Sit.”
My president has stepped out of the back office, and the command in his tone freezes me halfway out of my chair. Tank has his game face on—the expression he wears when negotiating with people who could destroy us.
“Captain Holt, I presume?” Tank walks toward Mason with the kind of calm that precedes violence. “I’m Tank Morrison, president of the Savage Kings MC.”
Mason’s attention shifts to Tank. He’s calculating, deciding how much authority his uniform carries here.
“Mr. Morrison. I’m here on official business.” Mason’s hand rests casually near his sidearm, but there’s nothing casual about the way he’s positioned himself between Shannon and the exit. “I need to speak with Shannon Cole about a custody matter.”
“She’s at work,” Tank says mildly. “Maybe you could make an appointment.”
Mason’s smile is all teeth. “I’m afraid this can’t wait.”
Shannon finally finds her voice. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Mason.”
“You will.” He turns back to her, the mask slipping enough to show the ugly underneath. “Because we’re going to discuss how you kidnapped my son and dragged him across state lines.”
The word ‘kidnapped’ slams into the bar’s atmosphere. Even Diesel straightens on his stool, suddenly interested.
“He’s not your son,” Shannon says, but her voice shakes.
“The courts might see it differently. Especially when they hear about the environment you’ve been exposing him to.” Mason’s gaze sweeps the bar, taking in the leather, the ink, the barely contained violence. “Motorcycle clubs. Criminal associates. That sleazeball you’ve shacked up with like the whore you are.”
Adrenaline floods my bloodstream. I start to rise again, but Tank’s hand lands on my shoulder, a solid, unmovable weight.
“Careful, Captain,” Tank’s voice drops to a register that means someone’s about to bleed. “You’re a guest here. Don’t wear out your welcome.”
Mason laughs, a sound that makes my flesh crawl. “I’m not worried. I’m a federal officer. Assaulting me would bring more heat than your little club could handle.”
He’s right, and we all know it. Touching him would bring federal agents down on us.
“What do you want?” Tank asks.
“I want what’s mine.” Mason’s attention goes back to Shannon. She flinches. “I want Shannon to stop this childish tantrum and come home where she belongs.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll be back at six o’clock with a federal warrant for her arrest,” Mason says, his voice dropping to a deceptively calm tone. “Getting the cross-jurisdictional paperwork finalized takes a few hours. I could have you detained in the meantime, of course. But I'm a reasonable man." He checks his watch. "So, I'm giving you a choice. Eight hours. You can come with me quietly, or you can force my hand, and I'll enjoy watching your son get handed over to protective custody while you sit in a federal holding cell."
The threat lands like a sledgehammer. Shannon goes limp, gripping the back of a chair to stay upright. “You bastard,” she whispers.
“I’m the bastard trying to save you from yourself.” His voice turns mockingly gentle. “Look around, Shannon. Is this really the life you want for Aiden? Hiding in dive bars, sleeping with criminals, running from the law?”
“Better than being with you.”
“We’ll see.” Mason turns to Tank, all business. “Eight hours, Mr. Morrison. Have her ready, or I’ll return with enough federal backup to turn this place inside out.”
Tank flips his silver coin, the metal catching the dim light. “And what about him? If she leaves, is he good?” He nods toward me.
Mason’s smile turns genuinely pleased. “For now. But then, I haven’t looked too hard into Mr. Reyes’s background, have I?” His pale eyes find mine across the room. “Discharged from the Navy SEALs under less than honorable circumstances. Multiple arrests for assault. Association with known criminals.” He shrugs. “I imagine if I really put my mind to it, I could find all sorts of interesting things.”
The message is crystal clear. He’ll destroy me piece by piece if Shannon doesn’t come.
