Mason:Inked Reapers MC

By: Heather West



Tick stared at me from across the bar. What the fuck his problem was I had no clue, and I didn’t give a shit either. The blonde pouring my drink was my only concern at the moment. Prez was about to call us all into church and knowing the shit storm that was headed our way, I’d need that last shot to get through whatever he was going to be laying down.

“Let’s go!” Prez bellowed from the doorway of the back room.

Tick slapped me on the back, just as I slammed down the empty shot glass and gave the bartender a slow wink. “When this is done.” I gave a nod toward the back bedrooms and smiled when she smiled back.

“Keep your dick in your pants long enough to get through this, huh?” Tick growled.

“What’s your fucking problem tonight?” We took our seats at the round table, and he shook his head.

“Nothing. I know I’m not gonna like this shit. Something’s not feeling right in my gut.” He ran a hand over his freshly shaved head and blew out a breath.

“Relax.” I laughed. “I swear you worry more than a mother hen.” I adjusted my position in my chair and adjusted the hard on in my jeans. That blonde still lingered in my head. The images of what I would do to her when church was over flashed through my mind, making my pants even more of a hindrance. Those thoughts would get me through whatever the fuck Prez wanted to say.

Tick gave me a wary look. He’d had plenty of those these days, but he acted as if he’d grown tired of the game, of the life. I’ve known Tick since we were kids, growing up in the same apartment building on the south side of town. Our mothers played cards every Friday night and worked at the same hair salon during the week. Neither of them were happy when we chose to join up with the Inked Reapers instead of heading to trade school or working at the stamping plant. Sure, they wanted better lives for us than they had, but so did we. Standing on an assembly line for the rest of my life wasn’t what I wanted. The club made good money, I wanted for nothing- and neither did my mom. She hated where my money came from, but she still let me pay her rent. I wouldn’t allow her not to anyway; I take care of my family.

“As you all know the cartel has expanded their borders. They’re running their shit right through Lemon Grove and Spring Valley.” Our President, Marcus, leaned back in his chair, propping his hands on his oversized belly. “I have no desire to go to war with them, we’d never fucking win.” He shook his head over the sad fact. It burned like hell to admit, but we never would defeat them. Those assholes had more money and more firepower than all of the Inked Reapers charters in California put together. “The way I see it, we don’t have shit for choices. We can squabble or we can earn. I say we earn.” He paused and looked over at Charlie.

“We pull together with the Hell’s Disciples.” The room erupted at the VP’s declaration. Hell’s Disciples resided in the next town over, being forever a thorn in our balls. “Now fucking listen!” Charlie slammed his hand on the table. “I don’t like it either, but if we are going to pull in profit instead of scraping our dead asses off the street, we need to move on this deal. The cartel doesn’t want to deal with any territory bullshit, they are willing to give us both the same price. We do a few runs a month for them, along with the Disciples and we pull twice what we are dragging in on our own now.”

Tick let out a low whistle but kept his face unreadable. Twice the money. Shit. Twice the problems, too.

“The Disciples on board with this?” Jasper, the newest patched member at the table, watched Marcus. His fingers drummed the table, and if I hadn’t known him, I would have thought he was bored.

“They took their vote last night.” Prez nodded. “They see the potential.”

“So we just link hands and sing kumbaya cause the cartel says to?” I finally spoke up. I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but the look Tick gave me, I could tell I failed. The Hell Disciples were scum. They ran drugs and guns just like we did, but they made a habit of leaving bodies behind. No respect for their members or the outside world. Drugs were dealt to kids outside of schools, girls got picked up on corners and brought home ruined.

“Yeah.” Prez glared me down. I didn't shrink back. “It’s that or they just take over our territory and hand it over to the fucking Disciples anyway.”

The whole thing felt like a pussy deal. We couldn't defend our town so we were going to have to join the other team. Turning puppet for the fuckin cartel turned my stomach. “Mason, you need to be on board. You’re our front on this.” Charlie pointed at me. “You and Tick there are going to be running the show over there. Keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious. I don't trust those fuckers any more than you do, but we have to make this treaty and get on board with the cartel.”

“And if they fuck us?” Tick asked.

“If they fuck us, then the treaty’s blown. The cartel will back us, but they have to fuck us first. They will, I know it. When they do, we get their territory and the full cartel deal.”