32. Mason
Mason
A few weeks after the raid, I stand on the wide wooden porch of my house in Timber Creek The mountains rise up around us like old friends.
Today it doesn’t quite reach the quiet storm I still carry inside.
My body aches from the fight, my injured arm throbs with a dull reminder, but none of that matters. Riley’s safe.
I lean against the railing, the rough wood pressing into my forearms, and breathe in the clean mountain air. The gravel driveway stretches out in front of me, winding down toward the main road. Every detail feels sharper today, like the world has decided to remind me how close I came to losing her.
Inside the cabin, Riley moves around the kitchen.
I can hear the soft clatter of pans and bowls, the rhythmic scrape of a spoon against dough.
The sweet, warm scent of fresh bread and cinnamon drifts out through the open window, wrapping around me like a gentle hand on my shoulder.
She’s humming to herself, that off-key little tune she always makes when she bakes, and every now and then I catch the soft sound of her laughter as she talks to the dough like it can hear her.
It makes my chest ache in the best possible way. She’s safe.
I haven’t let her out of my sight since I got her back.
Not for a second. The memory of her being dragged away from me in that motel room still burns behind my eyes, the terror in her voice when she called my name echoing in my ears.
I’d almost burned the world down to get her back.
And I would do it again in a heartbeat. No hesitation. No regret.
The low rumble of trucks pulling up the long gravel drive pulls me from my thoughts.
I turn as Jax, Colt, Ryker, Brock, and Kane climb out of their vehicles.
They look tired, dark circles under their eyes, but they move with that solid, grounded presence that comes from years of doing the right thing even when it costs you sleep, blood, and peace of mind.
Jax reaches me first, clapping a firm hand on my shoulder, his grip strong and familiar. “She okay?”
I nod, my voice low. “She’s inside. Baking. Trying to pretend the whole mess didn’t happen. She’s been at it since dawn. The whole place smells like a bakery exploded.”
Kane steps up beside him, his face serious but carrying that quiet warmth he always has around the team. “Stevens’s awaits trial. Singing like a damn canary, trying to save his own skin. The Moretti operation in the area is gutted. We got them all. Every last one of them.”
Ryker laughs. “You should have seen the look on Stevens’s face when we dragged him out. Priceless. He kept babbling about how it was just business. Like selling out one of our own was some kind of corporate decision. I wanted to put my fist through his face right there.”
Brock leans against the porch railing, crossing his arms with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s a fucking asshole and I hope they put him away for a really long time.”
Colt shakes his head, arms crossed over his broad chest. “We all did good. We got her back. That’s what matters. She’s safe. That’s the only thing that counts right now.”
I feel the tension in my shoulders ease just a fraction.
These men are my brothers. We have bled together in deserts and mountains, fought side by side when the odds were stacked against us, buried friends when the job took too much.
There is no hesitation when I call them.
No questions. Just boots on the ground and guns ready.
That kind of trust is rare. And right now, it means everything.
Riley steps out onto the porch then, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
Flour dusts her cheek and the front of my old shirt she’s wearing, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
Her eyes light up when she sees the group, that bright, quirky smile breaking across her face despite everything she’s been through.
It hits me square in the chest, warm and healing.
“You all came,” she says, her voice soft but full of genuine warmth. “Thank you. For everything. For coming when Mason called. For helping get me back. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
Jax tips his head toward her, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re one of us now, Riley. We take care of our own. No thanks needed.”
The afternoon turns into a barbecue in the backyard. The grill smokes with burgers and ribs, the rich scent of charred meat and sweet barbecue sauce filling the air.
Kane flips a burger with a spatula, grease sizzling on the grill, and grins at Jax. “So, Jax,” he says, his tone playful, “heard you got assigned to protect a librarian. Ava Simpson, right? You ready for that? All those books and quiet hours. Might actually teach you how to read.”
The group erupts in laughter. Jax flips him off, but there’s no real heat in it, just the easy camaraderie we all share. “I know how to read, asshole. I just prefer things that go bang instead of pages that turn. Give me a rifle over a book any day.”
Ryker leans back in his chair, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, the condensation dripping down the glass. “Come on, man. A librarian. This is going to be pure gold. Might actually learn something for once.”
Brock takes a long pull from his beer, grinning wide. “Imagine Jax trying to be quiet in a library. He’ll last five minutes before he starts swearing at the Dewey Decimal System. ‘Where the hell is the book on how to shoot people?’”
I chuckle deeply, my arm wrapped around Riley’s waist as she leans into me.
She’s laughing too, her body warm and soft against my side, the sound of her laughter mixing with the crackle of the fire pit and the low hum of conversation.
It feels like healing. Like home. Like the kind of life I never thought I’d get to have.
Riley looks up at me, her eyes shining with that bright light I’ve come to love so much. “They’re like family to you.”
“They are,” I say quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the fragrance of her hair. “And now you’re family too. All of us.”
The sun dips lower, painting the mountains in shades of gold and orange.
The men keep teasing Jax about his upcoming assignment, their banter easy and familiar, the kind of ribbing that only comes from men who’ve seen some real shit together.
I hold Riley close, feeling the steady beat of her heart against my side.
And as the night settles in around us, filled with laughter and the crackle of the fire and the low hum of conversation, I know this is the beginning of something real. Something lasting. Something worth every fight, every scar, every risk I’ve ever taken.
Riley’s home.
And so am I.