The Word of a Liar (30 page)

Mason squatted. “What you saw was meaningless.”

“Meaningless? I hardly think—’’

Mason shot up, tore the chook from his head, crumpled it into his fist and then stomped his boot inches from Ellen.  “God damn it! I am going to have my say, and you’re going to listen!”

Teeth bared and eyes blazing with fury, Ellen watched Mason with fear reminiscent of the night he’d found her on the road. He picked up the shovel and drove it into the bank as if it were a dagger. She half expected the snow to bleed. He faced her, spewing a frosty vapor from his mouth and nose. His chest heaved.

“That day at Fortunate Sons’ was the first time I’d seen Desi since we broke up. She doesn’t work at the dealership, Ellen. As far as I know, she still dances at the Paradise Club. She must have taken those pictures in some studio. If she took them at the dealership, I wasn’t there.”

His eyes bore down on Ellen with such intensity that she shivered. He raged on.

“Kissing her was a ruse. We met in the parking lot. I was leaving and she was on the way in. She told me she led Jack to believe we were still together, so he wouldn’t bother her. We saw him watching us from the window, so I kissed her.”

Mason squatted in front of Ellen.

“I can’t tell you that I don’t care what happens to Desi. I do. We were together for almost a year. But I never felt for her what I do… what I did… for you.”

He hung his head. His hair hid his face like a long black veil.

“You’re wrong about me,” he whispered, looking up.  Sweeping his hair back, his eyes linked with hers.

Ellen could barely breathe.

“With you, it wasn’t just sex.” He shook his head. “For the first time in my life, I made love.” 

Mason rose and turned his back on her.

Ellen bit her bottom lip. She believed his story, or at least she wanted to. Their long separation, and now his assertion that he had loved her, forced Ellen to admit she’d misconstrued what had happened outside Fortunate Son’s. The only thing keeping her out of his arms was pride and deep regret. She got to her feet.

“Mason.”

He spun around. Conflicted emotion deepened the tiny lines by his eyes and pulled his lips into a taut line. Ellen swallowed. 

“I’m sorry for misjudging you. I’m sorry for what I did to your bike.”

Mason looked down and then back at Ellen. He sighed.

“I came here thinking if I saw you and told you my side of the story, I might be able to get past what you did. It seemed like you wanted to believe the worst about me, and I don’t know why.  I get that you were angry, but what you did to my bike….” Mason shook his head. “Let me ask you this. If I’d done harm to JD to get even with you, could you ever forgive me?”

Ellen rubbed her forehead. She wanted to understand his logic, but couldn’t.

“JD is a person, Mason.  It’s not the same thing as a machine.”

“To me it is.” He touched her cheek.

Ellen took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.”

Mason frowned. “It’s over, Ellen. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

He turned and then walked towards his truck.

JD ran after him, stopping him at the end of the driveway. “Where you goin’, Mason? We haven’t finished yet.”

“I gotta go.”

Mason knelt down to the boy’s eye level. JD turned away.

“Be good in school, JD.”

“Are you comin’ back?”

Mason shook his head. “No.”

He stood. Ellen caught him take one last look in her direction and then watched him get into his truck.

JD darted into the road. Ellen ran to catch him.

“Come back, Mason! Come back!” JD yelled.

Ellen hugged him around the shoulders.

“Is he coming back, Mommy?”

JD’s worried eyes looked into hers. Ellen couldn’t respond. She retied the scarf around his neck.

“Come on. We’ve got to finish shoveling the driveway before it gets dark.”

He reluctantly followed. “He’s coming back, Mommy.  Mason wouldn’t leave us here all alone.”

“We’ll see.” Ellen sighed. “But I don’t think so.”

The descending sun chilled the frostbitten sky a harsh purple hue. Ellen scooped up the snow and tossed the white powder onto the bank. Tears blurred her vison as she watched JD pacing the perimeter of the drive way.  He scraped his shovel over naked concrete, telling himself Sponge Bob would return to save Bikini Bottom.

CHAPTER twenty-eight

Lying on the sofa, Mason mindlessly surfed television channels. His anger, like the sharp edges of broken glass, had been worn smooth by time’s ceaseless motion. Jack’s money, Mad Dog’s betrayal, and JD’s confession regarding Ellen tumbled through his head. He wondered what Ellen was going to tell him that afternoon. If he hadn’t cut her off, he knew he would have weakened and taken her back.

A cold draft stole through the window’s broken seal. Mason wished he’d fixed it over the summer but wasn’t sure it mattered. Sunday morning might be the end of him. Jack wasn’t the type of person to whom you could entrust your life. He might decide to save himself two hundred and fifty grand. Mason’s murderous wage laid on the cluttered coffee table. He hadn’t counted it, even though it might settle him down, but he could barely look at the foul enticement. Jittery, Mason clicked off the TV. The room fell silent and dark.

He considered the possible reasons why Mad Dog had taken so long in contacting Jack. Perhaps he’d been interrogating Muck Eye because Mason hadn’t seen the man in two days. No one had seen him, or else they weren’t talking.

“Stupid bastard!” Mason said aloud. He hoped the man had enough brains to skip town because if Mad Dog hadn’t already killed him, Jack would.

Mason realized if he managed to survive Sunday’s shoot-out, there still remained the threat of the Long Riders. He smiled involuntarily, remembering the terror in Doc’s eyes when he rammed his pistol in the big man’s mouth. It took a lot of balls to threaten the president of the club—or a lot of stupidity. At least the pussy knew nobody trashed Mason’s good name without repercussions. 

Headlights flooded the room, intruding upon Mason’s thoughts. A car door slammed. Mason rose, flicked on the table lamp, and then tucked his Glock into his shoulder holster. He responded to a knock at the front door.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Mason asked, blocking Mad Dog’s entry.

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Look, will you let me in? It’s freezing. I’m not packing. I came here to ask a favor.” Mad Dog raised his arms. “Pat me down if it will make you feel better.”

Mason did just that, and when he didn’t find anything, he allowed Mad Dog entry.

Mad Dog stepped into the room.

“To prove I’ve come in peace….” He removed his
Sons of Thunder
cuts, folded the sacred garment, and then draped it over a chair. “You got anything to smoke?  I need to get high.”

Mad Dog flopped down in the worn leather chair and drummed its massive rolled arms with his fingers.

Standing at the door, Mason watched. “I’ve got whiskey or beer.”

“What kind of drug dealer are you?  You don’t have any weed?” Mad Dog asked, looking disgusted.

“I’m a smart one. You think I leave shit lying around my house. I try not to give the cops a reason to bust me.”

“How about some blow? You got any of that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Mason slammed the door.

Mad Dog shook his head. “You’re pathetic. You don’t have anything?”

“No.”

“Fuck.” Mad Dog sighed, slumping in the chair.

“I’ll get the whiskey. Next time, call first when you want something.”

Mason went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Jack Daniels, two glasses, and beer. He mixed the two in glasses. He took one for himself, handed the other to Mad Dog, and then sat on the sofa.

“What’s this favor that made you come calling so late?”

Mad Dog took a long drink.  “I sent the girls to their aunt’s today. They were upset, but I wanted them gone when I go after your boss.”

“I figured you’d heard Muck Eye.”

Legs apart, with an elbow resting on each knee, Mason looked down. “You know, Mad Dog, Muck Eye was pretty wasted. Maybe what he said was bullshit.”

Mason glanced upward.

“Do you think it was bullshit, Rambo?”

“I don’t know. He’d done some pretty heavy stuff. Maybe it was just talk.”

“The hell it was! If I find the little weasel, I’m going to kill him and that bastard you work for.”

Mad Dog’s dark eyes narrowed. He took another drink. “Shit! I wish you had some weed. I won’t make it till Sunday.”

“Sunday?

“That’s the day I kill Jack. I called him today and arranged a meeting. Sunday, six o’clock in the morning at the Hardwood Warehouse.”

“Isn’t that your warehouse?”

“Yeah.”

Mad Dog finished the whiskey and then poured himself another.

Mason studied the slight trembling of the man’s hands. “Are you crazy?  Jack won’t come alone to your backyard. I hope you’ve asked Sons of Thunder to back you up.”

“No one in the club knows anything about this. I want to keep it that way.”

“Not even Spider?”

“Not even Spider.”

Mason swigged down the alcohol. Its burn licked his throat. Mad Dog crossed his boot over his knee. Outside, the wind howled.

“You can’t trust Jack. I know. I work for the bastard.  He’s liable to shoot you the minute you step out of your car. He doesn’t care how he kills you.  Look what he did to your wife.”

Mason set down the glass; his eyes landing on the envelope. Leaning back, he sighed. 

“Maybe you ought to wait it out. There were a lot of people at the Ritz that night who heard Muck Eye spout off about Jack killing Gina. Someone might have gone to the police. Maybe the men in blue will settle it. Why chance it when you have three kids to think about?”

“I’m doing this for my kids.” Mad Dog dropped his leg and leaned forward. “And for Gina and me!  Jack’s going to pay for what he did to us!  I’ve waited over two years for the cops to find my wife’s killer, and all they did was investigate me and the brothers I hang with. No, Rambo! I’m not waiting on the cops!  I’m going to have my own justice. I’m going to kill that piece of shit if it’s the last thing I do!”

Mad Dog’s dark eyes bore down on Mason. Unflinching, Mason stared back. If the tables were turned, he’d do exactly as Mad Dog was proposing. The thought of someone harming JD or Ellen made him sick.

“Why tell me if you haven’t told the brothers?”

“I need someone to make sure my kids are safe. If I asked Spider or any of the other brothers, they’d want to get involved. You’re no longer a member of the club. Look, Rambo, I know we’ve haven’t seen eye to eye on things lately, but I still consider you to be a friend. You were there for me when I needed a brother the most; I’ll never forget that.”

Mad Dog paused.

“I’ve got a will, but someone needs to watch out for my girls if there’s retaliation. Would you do that for me?”

Stunned, Mason licked his lips, his mouth dry as the Great Basin Highway in August.

“I… I… don’t know what to say.” Mason shook his head. “Me? Are you sure?”

Mad Dog smiled. “You’re the meanest mother fucker I know. Who better to protect my kids if I’m dead?”

“I’ll do it on one condition.”

“What?”

“I go with you when you meet Jack. You need someone to back you up if he brings any uninvited guests. Someone you can trust.”

“You’d do that for me? Even though I voted you out bad?”

“It isn’t for Sons of Thunder
.
It’s for our friendship.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, man. We both could end up dead.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered. And I don’t plan on ending up dead. If anything, I’ll probably have to save your sorry ass.”

Mad Dog sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “What about my kids?”

“If something happens, don’t you think Spider and the boys would make sure they were safe?”

Mad Dog finished his drink. “I gotta admit, it would settle my nerves if you came along for the ride, Rambo. I can’t wait to see Jack’s face when he sees you.”

Mason grinned. “Won’t he be in for a big surprise?”

The two men laughed. They poured another round and toasted the moment.

“Ah, hell,” Mad Dog sighed. “I need a woman.”

He rolled his head across his shoulders. “If I only have two nights to live, I need to get stoned and bang the hell out of some woman.”

Mason poured himself more whiskey.

“I don’t suppose you know if Samantha happens to be visiting Ellen this weekend?”

“I don’t think so. I was there shoveling this afternoon, and I didn’t see her.”

“You and Ellen okay now?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Mad Dog nodded. “When Ellen told me what she’d done to your bike, I thought if she’d done that to me, I’d never be able to forgive her either. But facing the real possibility of not being alive in a couple of days, I think I could. What you found with Ellen is irreplaceable, my friend. You won’t find another.”

Mad Dog stood. “I better get the hell out of here.”

He put on his jacket and cuts.

“Where you goin’?”

“I’m goin’ to the Ritz to see if that little angel I met at the Halloween party is there.”

“And if she is?”

“Use your imagination. Do I have to spell out everything to you, Rambo?”

Mad Dog stopped and stood by the door, hand resting on the doorknob. “If I were you, I’d be making tracks down to Ellen’s. Tonight may be your only chance to make things right. I’ll be in touch.”

He opened the door. Cold air blasted the room.

“I hate this weather,” Mad Dog grumbled, disappearing into the night.

Mason listened to the sound of Mad Dog’s truck as it drove away. The envelope glared at him. Money to kill his best friend. He’d worked hard to get to this place, yet now it didn’t seem worth the effort. To think a person’s life could be summed up in dollars was pathetic. There was only one Mad Dog… one Ellen… one Mason Hackett. He remembered the president of The Highway Men
telling him he was a righteous brother. Joe had drunk with him and said Mason could ride next to him anytime.

“When the dust settles Sunday morning,” Mason asked the empty room, “will I be a righteous brother?”

Guilt caught in his throat. Tears stung his eyes.

“The poor bastard wants me to take care of his daughters.”

Dropping his head into his hands, Mason smothered a desperate cry.

Every time he rode his motorcycle, the Grim Reaper rode on his shoulder, yet he had no fear.

“Why now?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Ellen made him afraid.

Before she had come into his life, there had been no reason to be anxious about dying. Young, strong and committed to no one, death didn’t apply to him. But now that he’d found Ellen, she’d ignited his soul.  Parts of him begged to be shared, and there were things about her he yearned to discover. He wanted to be part of Ellen and JD’s lives. Time couldn’t run out on him now. Like Mad Dog who feared for his children, so Mason feared for them.

Getting up from the sofa, he walked into the kitchen. Running cold water over his face, he attempted to gain control over the battle waging inside. The whiskey hadn’t offered any relief. Knowing Ellen had cried over him, Mason realized she was as hungry and needy for their love as he.  The stark possibility of not seeing her again slammed his heart like a wrecking ball.

He looked up at the clock: nearly midnight. Mason retrieved his jacket and then acted upon his desire.

***

The only sound the cold winter night elicited was the crunch of snow under Mason’s feet as he hurried towards Ellen’s house. He glanced upward. A spattering of stars flickered like metallic threads of light in the sky’s black veil. The cold air made his face tingle. As he came upon Ellen’s house, he spotted her standing on the porch as if she was expecting him. 
Did she know in her heart I’d be coming back tonight?
he asked himself.

The cast-iron light fixture shown down on Ellen, making her look like a white apparition. With her arms folded across her chest, she hopped from one foot to the other to ward off the cold.

Mason quickened his pace to a jog. He turned into her driveway and then climbed the steps two at a time. His chest heaved like he’d been running for hours. Their breaths collided in icy crystals. Ellen stood motionless. Tears rolled down her red, swollen face. She looked as if she’d been crying for hours. Emotions strangled Mason’s words. He drew near and touched her cheek with his frozen hand.

“Don’t turn me away,” he pleaded in a hoarse whisper. 

Ellen shook her head. Her lips trembled. “I’ve missed you, Mason Hackett. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

Mason pulled her into his arms and brought his lips down on her soft, warm mouth. The taste of her tears caused him to squeeze her tighter. His tongue danced with hers in a swirling, sensual rhythm. Reveling in the sweet warmth of her kiss, he begrudgingly pulled away when the chilled air made her shiver in his arms. He gripped her shoulders and studied her. She was wearing that lovely silk nightgown he’d bought her last summer.