Grin and Bear It (4 page)

“Mason,
come on, baby.” Tiffany started undoing the buttons on her tight ass shirt, but
he started shaking his head, and then felt the world tip from the act.

“Get
the fuck out, Tiffany,” he slurred out. “Even if I wanted to have sex with you,
which is a big ‘fuck no’, I have whiskey dick.” Mason wasn’t going to even
bring
Ryeissa
into this conversation, wasn’t going to
tell the sweet-butt that his dick was only going to get hard for his former
nurse. He wouldn’t taint the thought of
Ryeissa
by
bringing her up in front of this slut.

“Mason,
come on. You know I can get your dick hard, know that a little limp cock isn’t
a problem where my mouth is concerned.” She moved an inch closer, but he was
done with this shit.

Mason
shifted the chair around so his back was to her, braced his hands on the
armrests, and pushed himself up. Being drunk he probably shouldn’t have tried
to clear the space between the door and bed, but he couldn’t just sit there and
let the bitch grope him. He started walking, albeit sloppily because of how
intoxicated he was, and braced a hand on the wall to steady himself. When he
was sober it was slow going in trying to walk, but being wasted made it like he
was trudging through water, thick damn water that suffocated him.

He
moved toward the bed, hating that there was still pain in his legs despite the
time that had passed and the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. He got to the bed
and collapsed, not even giving a shit. “Get the fuck out of my room, Tiffany,”
Mason said, his face in the comforter, the words muffled. Sleep was coming on
fast, and his limbs felt like they were full of lead. He felt Tiffany touch
him, run her finger along his spine, and he rolled over, pushing her away. “Get
the fuck out, bitch,” he said with his eyes closed. “I don’t want your loose
fucking pussy. Take the hint.”

Maybe
on another day, another time, he might not have been such a dick, but she
wasn’t leaving, and in fact being a little too persistent in this shit. He
didn’t want anything to do with her, never had, and never would.

She
glared at him, and although he had to squint, had to focus his vision, he could
see he’d pissed her off.
Good.

“You
know what, you’re nothing but a washed-up crippled biker. The club isn’t going
to want anything to do with your broken ass.” She turned and walked toward the
door.

“And
the only thing the club wants from you is your loose ass pussy, well, aside
from me.” He grinned, although her words had hit him deep. Fuck that, he
wouldn’t show her that what she’d said affected him. He flipped her off for
good measure.

She
huffed out and left, and Mason lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He
was
fucking broken, but he wouldn’t let
that bring him down, and he wouldn’t be a wash out. He’d rise again, grit this
bullshit, and let his bear come forward to help heal even further. When he was
back to himself, could beat a motherfucker, he’d go after the pricks that put
him here. And once that was done he’d tell
Ryeissa
that he wanted her.

Fucking
hell did he want
her.

Nothing
would stop him from going after what he deserved, not even himself.

Chapter
Five

“Hit
it harder, Mason,” Bodhi said and held the punching bag.

Mason
was standing up, had his feet braced apart, and was going to town on the red,
busted as fuck, and duct taped punching bag. Sweat covered his forehead,
dripped onto his bare chest, but he wasn’t going to stop. He wouldn’t stop
until he couldn’t even breathe.

The
other Grizzly guys were working out. Even some of the Originals were at the gym
that had been erected behind the Grizzly MC clubhouse.

“Let’s
do the weights for a little bit, Mason,” Bodhi said and steadied the bag. Mason
straightened, breathed in and out hard, and looked around the room. Even his
old man, Court, was over by the weights with Jagger and
Drevin
.
Court was a beast, pumping the iron up and down over his head, his old man’s
massive chest rising and falling from the force of his breathing.

Hell,
they were all damn beasts, but that’s what made them powerful, dangerous.

“Come
on, let’s lift,” Bodhi said and slapped Mason on the back.

They
moved over to the weights, albeit slowly as hell because of Mason’s legs, but
he pushed through all of that. Every day he was getting stronger, getting
better and healing, and right now that’s what he had to focus on. Mason sat on
the bench, and stretched his arms out before lying down. He wrapped his fingers
over the grooved bar above him, checked out the weights on either side, and
inhaled deeply.

For
the next ten minutes he pumped the weights up and down, took a few breaks, let
his muscles relax before starting again, and he felt the power move through
him. His body burned, strained, and his bear became stronger.

“When
are you able to shift?” Bodhi asked from above him, spotting Mason.

“The
doctor wanted me to wait until I was healed more, which I should be good to go
now.”

Bodhi
nodded. “You sure, though? I mean you’re really kicking ass in working out and
your
PT, but you don’t want to strain yourself, man.”

“I’m
fine. Until I’m back to the way I was I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.”

Bodhi
shrugged and kept his mouth shut as he continued to spot him. After a few more
minutes Mason’s body was screaming for a reprieve. Bodhi grabbed the weights
and set them back on the bar. Mason sat up, grabbed his towel, and dried his
face and chest off. As he was wiping off his forehead and running the rag over
his hair the sound of the front doors opening and of
Jakob’s
deep voice coming through had everything in Mason freezing. He set the towel
down on his thigh, was still trying to catch his breath from the workout, but
had his focus on the man he’d thought of as a brother his entire life.

The
regret Mason felt every time he saw or thought of
Jakob
was there, but as he saw his once close friend, brother in arms, walk through
those doors smiling at something Ben said to him, anger rose up like a fucking
beast inside of him, going to war with his bear and all common sense. Mason
might have inadvertently fucked some chick
Jakob
had
wanted, but he’d nearly died, and this bastard hadn’t even come and checked on
him during his hospital stay.

Mason
rose, feeling stronger than he had in a long damn time, and felt his animal
push forward. He needed to shift, but there was a part of him that was hesitant
because he worried he would set himself back. But even so he needed to control
himself right now. Maybe
Jakob
had a good reason for
not seeing Mason at the hospital, but not even a fucking phone call had gone
down from the brother.

Jakob
stopped a few feet away from where
Mason stood, both males staring at each other and the gym seeming to go still,
silent.

For
a solid minute, or it seemed that way at least,
Jakob
and Mason just glared at each other. The tension was thick, the air hot from
their emotions, and he knew right here wasn’t the time or place to start
anything. He was feeling guilt over what he’d done, would always feel that, but
he was also pissed at how things had played out, and how long it had stayed
that way.

“I’m
not fucking doing this,” Mason said, but it was mainly to himself. He didn’t
have time to deal with an altercation with a fellow Patch, and even if they did
get into it, the club would stop it. They had to because they were a family,
and should be sticking together.

Mason
moved past
Jakob
and Ben, grabbed his duffle that was
in the corner, and pushed the doors open. The sun was bright, slightly blinding
him for a moment, and he walked further toward the main clubhouse. He’d take a
shower and hit up Link for
Ryeissa’s
info. Yeah, he
said he’d stay away, but he wanted to see her right now. He
needed
to see her. It might be another
royal screw up on his part, going after her when he didn’t even have his life
in order, but he didn’t care about anything right now aside from forgetting
about the negative shit in his life.

He
braced a hand on the side of the club, the brick hard, cold. One of the spots
where he’d been shot, on his thigh, had barely missed his femoral artery. It
ached like a motherfucker. He’d also been shot in the chest, which had been
what he’d initially felt. Those assholes must have shot him again for good
measure, but Mason had been so out of it that he hadn’t felt it.

He
ran his hand over the healing gunshot wound and felt his legs tingle because
he’d probably pushed himself too hard these past few days. Shaking off the
discomfort he walked around to the front of the club and stepped inside. Yeah,
he’d go see
Ryeissa
, because he hadn’t been able to
stop thinking about her since he left. She might put him in his place, turn his
ass down, but he wouldn’t stop, because he’d never wanted a female like he
wanted her, and Mason wasn’t about to ignore that any longer.

****

Jakob
stood there, his teeth clenched,
his anger rising. He was frustrated, upset with himself and all the shit that
had gone down. The situation with Mason had been going on for a long time, and
although he was the type of male that held a grudge, things had changed. He’d
changed. He’d been a bastard after Mason’s accident, not calling him, and not
seeing him when he was conscious. No one even knew he’d gone to see Mason while
he’d been sedated. He hadn’t told anyone that he’d gone and seen the other
Grizzly, not because he was ashamed, but because he didn’t know how shit would
play out in the end.

That
was a douchebag thing to think and feel, and
Jakob
was an asshole for not pushing his pride away, but he couldn’t change the way
he was, the way he felt. He lifted his head, not realizing he’d been staring at
his workout sneakers, running his gaze over the laces, and thinking about how
everything had gone so wrong in such a short time. He looked at the males in
front of him, at the Grizzly members that he’d die for. They’d always had his
back, always would.

No
one said a thing to him, but they were smart. This was between him and Mason.
It needed to end, needed to get aired out without the fists flying and their
rage getting in the way.

He
turned and left the gym, walked across the concrete, passed their Harleys, and
went into the clubhouse. He saw Mason sitting at the bar alone, a shot glass
and bottle of scotch in front of him. It was early, but it was clear he was
having a hard time.

Taking
a deep breath
Jakob
moved toward the other male and
sat beside him. Mason didn’t look at him, and instead kept drinking and
gripping onto the neck of the bottle, his knuckles white.

“Man,
Jakob
, I’m not in the mood to go at it. Let me finish
this and then we can finish this, if that’s what you want.” Mason drank
straight from the bottle, and kept his focus forward.

For
a second
Jakob
didn’t say anything, but then he
turned on the barstool and stared at Mason. “I don’t want to go at it, Mason.”

Mason
stopped from bringing the bottle to his mouth, set it down, and held
Jakob’s
gaze.

Jakob
looked at the scarred top of the
bar, at the wear from the years of partying, of being together as a family.

“I
know all the shit between us has put this wall up, but,
Jakob
,
man, I was in the fucking hospital and you didn’t come—”

“I
did come and see you.” He saw the surprise on Mason’s face before it was
quickly covered by his ever-present stoic expression. Mason was the hothead of
the group, the one that didn’t give a fuck about anything, and lived like each
day was his last. He drank heavily, partied harder than most of the guys, it
seemed, but he always had a Patch’s back. “Let me see that,”
Jakob
said and gestured toward the bottle of scotch.

Once
Mason handed it to him he took a long swig from it. He set the bottle on the
bar, swallowed what was left in his mouth, and nodded.

“It
was when you were first taken to the ICU, and before I had to leave town to
help that charter.”
Jakob
stared at Mason, not
revealing how he felt inside through his expressions. “You were out, in a coma,
or sedated, or some shit, but I came and saw you knowing that I had to. I sat
with you for a long while, talking to you, apologizing.”

“Shit,
Jakob
.”

Jakob
grunted, and gave a slow nod.
“Even after I left I was getting updates from the guys on your recovery.”

Mason
stayed silent, but watched him.

“But
then I left, got wrapped up in helping the charter. But that’s not a damn
excuse.” He turned and faced the front of the bar again. “I didn’t call, didn’t
make a better effort at coming and seeing you again after you were on the mend,
and I’m a motherfucker for that.”

“No,
I fucked up,
Jakob
—”

“Listen,
you screwing that chick was wrong, but I know you were drunk and didn’t know
what you were doing.” He faced Mason again. “I know, Mason, but I’m stubborn
and wanted to stay pissed because I didn’t want to feel anything else. It was
an asshole move, one that I can’t take back.” He looked into Mason’s blue eyes.
“I want to say I’m sorry, too. I should have called, should have gotten over
all of this, as well. It’s too late, nothing can be changed, but fuck, man…”

Mason
nodded.

“I
hated seeing all those tubes attached to you, hated seeing you so weak. It
fucking sucked, and I felt like an even bigger bastard for turning and
leaving.”

The
silence stretched between them.

“I
wish you would have come by, or at least called once I was up. It fucking
sucked,
Jakob
, sucked that I didn’t have all of my
family.”

Jakob
nodded. “Yeah, it has sucked. We
shouldn’t have been at each other’s throats. I want to put all the crap that
has been going on between you and
I
for the last few
months behind us.”

Mason
scrubbed a hand over his hair and breathed out, but
Jakob’s
bear scented the relief coming from the other male. “I want to put that shit in
the past, far back there, man. I want my brother back,
Jakob
.”

Jakob
nodded and clapped Mason on the
back.

They
were silent for a moment, but then Mason cleared his throat and
Jakob
knew he was going to bring up the female that had
come between them all those months ago. He smelled that realization in the air.

“Did
you want her as your old lady?” Mason asked.

Jakob
was silent for a moment, lowered
his head so he could stare at the bar again, but finally shook his head. “Nah,
man, but I thought I saw things going further. I thought she’d be loyal, that
she felt something more for me. It was clear she just wanted her loose ass cunt
filled by a Patch.” He breathed out, feeling his anger for that bitch rise as
well. She hadn’t been drunk, had known what she was doing, and he fucking hated
her for that.

“You
still talk to her?”

“Fuck
no,”
Jakob
said. “That bitch got kicked to the curb.
She only wanted to be an old lady, and didn’t care which member it was with.”
He grabbed the bottle and took another swig.

“Shit,
I’m sorry.”

“I
should be the one apologizing again, Mason. That chick got between us when she
shouldn’t have. But the fact I let my pride and anger stand in the way between
us for so long is fucked. I just want to get back to the way things used to
be.”

“I’ll
drink to that,” Mason said and grabbed two shot glasses, took the bottle of
scotch, and poured them both a drink. They tossed back the whiskey, and
Jakob
felt like maybe things could be the way they were,
that they could be the way they were before some bitch and his pride got in the
way.