8. Mason
8
MASON
W hen we arrived, it was clear that the place Maddy had gone wasn’t just an underground fighting ring for people her age, like it had been back in the day. There were all ages, including adults. The fighting was something entirely different as well.
Weapons were allowed in the ring. The betting was out in the open. I recognized a bunch of gang tattoos.
Channing groaned. “Fuck. I know a good portion of these guys.”
I cast him a look, thinking he was referring to the guys he tended to hunt down as a bounty hunter.
A group stood to the side wearing Red Demon cuts and we were walking past a whole line of Harley motorcycles parked in the front. This was all sorts of bad.
Logan moved in close, nudging my elbow. “People are recognizing you.” More than a few heads turned our way. I clocked it too.
“If you see a phone, grab it,” I told him, as well as Matteo and Nate.
“No.” Channing halted us. He held up a device. “If anything happens, I’ll hit this button. It’ll jam every cell within three miles. All of my guys have it. We use it when we have a high-risk bounty.”
Nate shook his head. “Monroe, fuck. I don’t know if that makes you scarier or if we should be comforted.”
I grinned, feeling exactly the same. Logan eyed the device like he wanted to eat it.
Matteo was frowning, looking around the place. He hadn’t been around for a lot of our escapades in high school, and he hadn’t been close enough for a lot of the shit we did in college either. This was new to him.
“Can we talk about some sort of game plan? We’re all, uh, not exactly young anymore. Some of us are hitting our forties.”
“Pushing forty,” Logan clarified, shooting Nate a smirk.
“Settle. You’re a year younger.”
“Still. Late thirties here. It makes a difference.”
Nate looked like he wanted to show Logan how there really wasn’t, but he just shook his head. He tried again. “Some of us don’t hunt people for a living or work as professional athletes, so maybe we can have a plan for how to operate in there?”
Despite this word of reason, there was dark excitement in Nate’s eyes. He was probably looking to cover his ass when questioned by his wife later on. Everyone here had children, except Matteo—that we knew of. I eyed Moose and Congo. I was sure they had kids. Both were married. I grimaced, thinking of their children. Little fucking Goliaths running around, snacking on rocks and hurling logs.
“I’m going to find my daughter and ground her ass. If anyone gets in my way, I have no problem taking heads from bodies.” With that, I stalked forward.
Logan began laughing. “There’s the brother I love.”
“All right then,” Channing said wryly. “Potential murder. Check that for the evening.”
“We might want to get some cops on our payroll.” Nate paused. “Are we into that sort of thing yet?”
“Seems like we are,” Matteo answered. “Mason gets intense when he gets to the home turf, huh?”
Nate sighed. “You have no idea.”
I stopped listening, moving into the open part of the warehouse where the fighting ring was located. As we drew near, three Red Demon guys blocked us, holding their hands in the air.
One spoke up, “Hey. Whoa. We don’t know you…” He trailed off, looking past my shoulder. A sneer of disgust came over his face. “Monroe, you know better. You and your friends aren’t welcome here. This is our territory.”
I glanced back to see Channing’s face darken with anger. Congo and Moose had stayed in the background, but now they pushed forward. The biker took them in, but his sneer didn’t fade. The other bikers closed in, and one motioned behind him. Five more headed our way.
What is this? I didn’t have patience for this shit. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but my kid is here. Let us get her, and we’ll be out of here.” In the mood I was in, I didn’t give one shit that these guys were probably killers. Sign me the fuck up.
The guy in charge cocked his head to the side. “You look familiar. How do I know you?” His mood changed, an aggressive scowl crossing his face. “I don’t like feeling like I know someone without knowing how I know them. Makes me think you’re a snitch and that’s how I know you.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “You a fucking snitch?”
I matched him scowl for scowl. I didn’t know if I wanted him to recognize me. I wasn’t sure if that would make things better or worse, but another biker joined us. Tall. Built lean. He had long dark hair that hung down his back. His dark eyes flicked with interest, flaring with recognition on Channing before moving over the rest of the group. He lingered on me. His eyebrows pulled together, just briefly before clearing.
“Go get Stripes,” he said. “Let him know some people he might know are here.”
“Boise, let us in. We’re just here for our kids,” Channing said.
The biker he had been talking to turned and pushed past the rest of their group.
Boise moved forward and gave Channing a cool look, shaking his head. “No can do, Monroe. Stripes is the guy in charge here.”
Channing’s eyes went flat. His nostrils flared. He did not like hearing that. “Is he in charge of the whole charter?”
Boise’s eyes grew glacial. “You’d be smart to remember the boundaries. You’re in our territory here.”
Channing’s mouth twisted.
Shouting, cursing, and high-pitched laughter sounded from behind our circle as the fight continued in the ring. The people wanted blood. The thirst for it was in the air. It was damn near intoxicating. I knew it was affecting me. Logan too. He was eyeing the ring with a hunger I’d not witnessed in him for a long time.
“When are you going to need me?” Sam’s soft and knowing question came back to me.
Past patterns for us were mixing with our recent personal trauma. An old rage had awoken inside of me, and it was growing, turning into a fury that shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did. Like an old friend that wasn’t good for me. I’d learned how to curb my anger growing up, but there was some new elements to this anger. There’d been too much change, too much loss.
I was done being a football player. That career forced me to keep myself in check. Marrying Sam and having kids helped reinforce my walls of control, but none of it seemed enough right now. I gritted my teeth as the urge to reach out, take one of the bikers’s heads in my hands, and pull increased in me.
It wasn’t a feeling I wanted, but at the same time, I’d missed it too.
“Monroe,” a new voice said.
This must be Stripes. His men all stepped back.
Dark hair. He had a younger looking face, but it was a face that would always look young. His eyes told a different story. They were dark and hardened. Smart. There was an extra sense around him. It made me give him a second look. All the bikers were dangerous and deadly, but this one had more to him. I wasn’t sure what I was picking up, but a sixth sense told me to be cautious with him. His eyes lit up when they found Channing, then shifted to share a look with Boise.
I couldn’t read whatever they were expressing to each other.
Without saying a word to each other, Boise moved off into the warehouse again.
Stripes faced Channing, a smug smirk on his face, but it was a mask. Saw through it. I just couldn’t see what it was covering. He said, “I thought we had an agreement. I stay out of Fallen Crest, and you don’t come to our territories. Prez hasn’t reached out. There’s no warrants for our guys. You got no reason to be here.”
Channing growled. “I’ve adhered to that protocol. We’re not here for that.”
Stripes’s chin rose and his shoulders squared back. “This is my fighting ring. I run it. If you were anyone else, I’d say you’d have to put up or shut up. You hand over your phone and you either fight or put money down. Those are the rules for stepping inside.”
My blood boiled. “What are the rules for the ring?”
Logan’s gaze swung my way.
I ignored him, focusing on this punk.
He focused on me, and recognition flared. His smirk transformed to a genuine grin. “Well, fuck. The Hall of Famer himself.” His voice cooled. “It’s been a long time since you ran this area, Kade. You and your brother aren’t welcome here either.”
Logan sidled up next to me. “He asked about the rules for fighting.”
Stripes studied Logan, his face locking down again. “No weapons except your fists. No killing. Winner is declared by knock out or if your opponent can’t get up. That’s it.”
“Done.” I was fine with that. In fact, I needed it.
Stripes frowned at me, still assessing. A small bit of surprise was on him.
“What?” Channing held out his hand. “No. We’re not here to fight.”
I looked over at the ring again. The two current fighters were young. I didn’t want to worry about hurting someone my daughter’s age. That didn’t feel right, but there were others waiting on the sideline. They were closer to my age. I wouldn’t feel any sort of guilt about laying into them.
“I don’t think they discriminate by age,” I noted.
He rolled his eyes, stepping up in front of me to block me. “Our kids are here,” he told Stripes. “They’re underage. Unless you’re cool with having underage teenagers around these parts, just let us in to get them. We’ll leave right after. No blood needs to be spilled.”
The last statement was for me. I could feel Logan, restless next to me. He wanted to open his mouth and let loose, but Fallen Crest had changed. We had changed. If we were younger, we’d already be throwing fists, but Channing was keeping his head, and he was right. We were here for Maddy and Max. And Jesus, if Maddy saw me take to the ring? That wouldn’t be good.
What was I doing? I was losing my head.
“You have a kid here?” Stripes’s voice went sharp. His eyes darkened. “Who?”
Channing’s eyes narrowed, and the roles reversed. Something shifted between them. Suddenly he was the one being smug and smirking. I didn’t know what brought it on.
“My son.”
Stripes lifted his chin. The mask fell away, revealing he was all business. He stepped back and motioned for his bikers. Two dispersed immediately.
My gut churned.
Maddy was here. If we’d stayed in Boston or San Diego, this wouldn’t have happened. She’d had a more normal life there—the occasional party, movies, a trip to the mall, beach bonfires. It was different here. The shadows around Fallen Crest, where all the wealthy millionaires lived, had grown more dangerous. Maybe as one rose, the other declined? They balanced each other, I supposed. The more wealth, the higher the hoity society in Fallen Crest, the more dangerous the territories around it became. Which meant living here was possibly the worst decision we’d made for the kids.
Channing was a bounty hunter. We all had other businesses, some of them together, so I knew he didn’t need to be a bounty hunter for money. It’s just what he did, but even he looked surprised at everything happening here. That made me wonder if there were elements around here even he wasn’t aware about. Maybe he kept his head down, focusing on what stood in front of him and no longer searched the shadows anymore?
One of the bikers rejoined us. He spoke to Stripes before the latter shifted, looking somewhere further inside. After a moment, he ran a hand over his jaw before giving a small nod. “They’re in the back. You and Kade can collect your kids.”
We moved forward as a group, but the bikers quickly formed a wall.
“Only the two fathers can go in,” Stripes clarified.
Logan growled, his restlessness snapping. “I don’t fucking care what you say—”
Every one of us readied ourselves. We all recognized the sound coming from my brother. The need for violence twisted inside of him too.
Neither of us was quite in control.
Stripes showed his teeth, moving to face off against Logan. I checked him, moving faster than him. Stepping into his path, I made it look like he’d made the first move, not us.
He noted the positioning and his eyes jerked to mine. He was surprised.
We shared a look in that split second. We both got a read on the other and a week ago, our roles would’ve been reversed. This was his place of business. His territory. He had more men to back him up. Hell, he had all the power on his side, except I was on edge. I was the unknown in this situation, and I couldn’t make myself care that he was a killer.
Everything in me needed to feel someone’s blood.
He read that. Just like I read him, that he was aware in the moment, they’d win. He was also aware my name would bring a spotlight to this world that thrived only if it was in the dark.
He eased back, holding up a hand because his guys were about to throw down with ours. He raised his voice, speaking low and calm, but assertively, “We’re going to let ’em pass.”
“What?” one of the bikers snapped. “Stripes—”
He clipped out, “We don’t need to be on the evening news when an NFL Hall of Famer ends up in the hospital, breathing through a tube.”
I saw red. I was reacting as if that were a threat made.
A hand caught my arm and jerked me backward. Nate body-checked me, shoving me to the side. “Dude, get yourself under control,” he hissed. “We’re here to get Maddy. That’s fucking it. Got it?”
I rubbed at my forehead, because fuck . He was right. I already knew he was right.
Stripes began laughing.
“They’re both grieving,” Nate snapped at him. “Neither one is thinking clearly right now, but if we threw down, you’d be surprised at the end result. Believe me. I don’t know what the dynamic is between you and Channing, but I don’t care . We’re just going to get the kids.”
Stripes’s eyes were glittering, an eerie image of a cobra rising before an attack flashed in my mind, but he only moved aside. He held up a hand. “Like I said, let ’em through.”
As we passed, he’d switched to watching Channing. His gaze never left him.
Jesus fucking Christ. All that work just to step into a warehouse.
A wave of clear thinking doused the fight that’d been boiling inside of me once we moved farther away from the bikers. Nate was right. Get Maddy. Get home. Take my frustrations out at the gym. Keep my head clear. That’d always been the number one rule of surviving Fallen Crest. I half laughed to myself as we prowled through the crowd. That hadn’t changed.
Heads turned our way. People stopped watching the fight as more recognition swept through the place. I heard my name spoken, along with Matteo’s.
Nate was right.
Get Maddy. Get out. Throwing down was not a good idea.
The bloodlust was calming down inside of me.
That was until we got to the other side of the warehouse and a scream ripped through the air.
It was Maddy.