The Word of a Liar (7 page)

Feeling uneasy, Mason rose and stood behind Desi, absently rubbing her shoulders.  He watched Ellen and Mad Dog, trying to imagine what it must be like to suddenly lose someone you shared so much with. He wondered whether they would ever completely recover.

Shrugging off her melancholy, Ellen looked up at Mason.  Like heat seeking missiles, his brilliant eyes took her by surprise, exploding dormant desire. Her whole body tingled with the aftershock. The firelight dancing in his hair; his sensual mouth, partly hidden by his bread, slipped into a sexy grin. Breathless, she closed her eyes, imagining his warm breath on her neck, the taste of his mouth, his tongue probing, her body responding…. She opened her eyes. He stared, making her feel exposed.  Ellen pulled the blanket around her.

“You know, the two of you make quite a good looking couple,” she commented, attempting to divert Mason’s attention. “That lap dance was amazing, Desi. I mean, it made me hot. I can only imagine what it did for you Mason.”

Mad Dog laughed, wrapping his arm around Ellen’s shoulder. They looked at one another and smiled. Relieved by Mad Dog’s recovery, Ellen took the bottle from his hand. She took a swig, trying to prove her stamina, but then choked. Mad Dog patted her back. “You’ve had enough, Mrs. Abrams. I’m cutting you off.”

“But didn’t you think, Mad Dog, Desi was amazing up there on that stage?”

“Yes, I did. But I’m not going to make much of it. Rambo is likely to shoot my balls off if I do.”

Mad Dog smirked. Mason flipped him off.

Giggling, Ellen flopped her head on Mad Dog’s shoulder. She needed to get her mind off of Mason. Ellen turned to Spider.

“I have a question for you, Spider. Why does everyone call you that? When I think of a spider, I think of someone with black hair, like Mason. But you have red hair; so how come it’s not Red or Rusty or something?”

Light-headed, Ellen rolled her head to the side.

“Oh, no! Now you’ve done it!” Mad Dog hooted, making Ellen jump.

Mason shook his head. “Don’t ever ask Spider that question because he’s going to show you the answer.”

Ellen looked at him. Confused by their reaction, she turned to Dee Dee for an answer, but Dee stared at the ground. Ellen thought she saw a trace of a smile.

“I’m going to bed. I’ve seen this before.” Desi said humorlessly and quickly got up. “Are you coming, Rambo?”

“In a minute. I want to finish my drink.”

Desi kissed him and then left the small circle without a word. Mason sat back down, seemingly undisturbed by Desi’s sudden retreat.

Spider sat with his elbows on his knees, holding a beer in one hand. His eyes looked down into the grass. “Do you really want to know why they call me Spider?”

He looked up at Ellen with laughing eyes.

“Yes. I want to know why they call you Spider.”

“Okay, little lady, you are about to find out.”

Spider stood up and handed his beer to Dee. Frowning, she shook her head. Spider walked up to Ellen.  His hand went to his belt buckle. He pulled back the leather strap, and then unzipped his pants. Ellen squirmed. Her pulse quickened. Before she could stop him, Spider jerked down his boxers, exposing his cock. She slapped a hand over her mouth. Horrified, her eyes widened.  There it was! A black spider tattooed on the head of his penis!

He stroked himself, moving closer. “You want to touch it?”

Ellen gasped. Heat crept up her neck and face. She blinked and glanced over at Mad Dog and then Mason. They’re eyes laughed at her. She took a deep breath and then looked up into Spider’s bemused face.

“I hope you had a woman tattoo artist do that, or my image of bikers will never be the same.” Ellen grinned.

Mason whapped his knee as laughter thundered from his chest. Mad Dog spit his whiskey into the fire, and Spider hung his head, shaking it from side to side.

“I’ve been bested by a woman,” he moaned affably, zipping the spider back into his jeans.

Dee came to his rescue, taking his hand. “Come on, ole man. I’ll pet the spider.”

“You two are back on security at seven. Don’t forget.” Spider wrapped his arm around Dee as he looked at his watch. “It’s three now.”

“Good night, Mad Dog. Good night, Ellen.” Dee Dee said as she went to Mason, inspecting his wound. “I gave Desi the first aid kit in case your cheek starts bleeding again.”

“Thanks, Dee.”

Dee Dee leaned in closer.

“Be careful, Rambo,” she whispered into Mason’s ear. “Ellen isn’t one of us.”

Dee Dee went to Spider, took his hand, and they walked over to their tent.

“Things are pretty quiet around here now.” Mad Dog turned, surveying the rows of tents. Some people still partied, but the majority had gone to bed. “We probably should get some shut eye, Rambo.”

Mason nodded. “What about her? Where’s she going to sleep?”

Mad Dog stood up and stretched. “So, Ellen, how about you spend the night at my place?  I promise I don’t have any spiders in my tent.”

“I don’t know. You might not have any spiders, but there might be something a lot bigger in there.”

Mad Dog chuckled. “You are funny, Mrs. Abrams. You’re real funny for a half-English teacher/half-principal.”

Mad Dog offered Ellen his hand, pulling her up from the chair.

“Do you know how long it has been since I’ve spent the night with a man?”

“I have no idea.” Mad Dog smiled.

“A long time…. A very long time.” Ellen hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Heaven only knows what I’m capable of.”

“Oh, baby, I can’t wait to find out.” Mad Dog led her through the circle of chairs. He winked at Mason. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

“Fuck you, Mad Dog!” Mason growled.

“Good night, Mason.” Ellen smiled, pausing in front of him. “And thank you for coming to my rescue tonight.”

Their eyes connected. A strong, mysterious current shot through Mason.
Ellen had to have felt it,
he thought
.
His eyes searched her face for the smallest trace, but Ellen turned away to follow Mad Dog.

Mason’s eyes followed after them until they ducked into Mad Dog’s tent. He stood up. Kicking a discarded beer can into the fire, Mason watched it burn black. When Mason looked up, he saw Muck Eye approaching. A woman hung her arm around Muck Eye’s shoulders. They staggered into the campsite.

“Rambo, where is everybody?” Muck Eye asked, surveying the empty lawn chairs.

“They’ve all turned in for the night. Where the hell is Jack?” Mason asked.

“He’s down by the river,” Muck Eye replied.  “I’m headed over to our tent. I just came by to tell you, Jack was watching when you took care of that guy with the knife. It made a big impression on him. Jack could definitely use someone like you. I think you’ll be hearing from him in the morning.”

Muck Eye patted Mason on the shoulder.

“Way to go, man. I’ll see you in the mornin’,” Muck Eye said, smiling.  He and the woman ambled through the quiet campsites and then disappeared from view.

Mason drank the last of his whiskey. It had been a very long day, but the prospect of being hired by Jack had made it all worthwhile.  A lot of doors would soon be opening for Mason Hackett, aka Rambo.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mason crept quietly into his tent, pulled off his boots, and laid down on his sleeping bag. The throbbing in his cheek, the tenderness in his abdomen and the soreness in his backside where Mad Dog had kicked him to the ground, made him restless. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the small vent at the top of the tent. The cool night air touched his face.  Strung out from the events of the night, he closed his eyes.

Desi sighed.

“What’s up babe?” Mason didn’t want to talk, but felt obligated. 

She turned, resting her arm across his chest. Her green eyes searched his face in the darkness. “I don’t know. What is up Rambo?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve been acting weird tonight.”

“Me? How have I been acting weird?”

“Weird… like you’d rather be somewhere else. Ever since that woman showed up, you and Mad Dog have been tripping over each other to be near her. I got the vibe you didn’t want me around.”  She propped herself up on her elbow, her delicate face resting in the palm of her hand. “So who is she?” 

“I told you. Her car broke down. She’s all alone and way out here. I suppose we feel responsible for her, that’s all. If you were ever in the same situation, I would hope someone would look out for you. You’re making a big deal out of nothing”

“Am I?  I saw the way you were looking at her.  When you brought her over to the fire, you had your arm around her. What was that?  Being protective?”  Desi’s voice gained volume and emotion. “I might not be as educated as some fucking school teacher, but I’m not stupid. You said you’d always be honest with me. Are you being honest now?”

“Honest about what?  For Christ’s sake, Desi, I just met the woman tonight. You’ve been ragging on me all day about us, and now you’re going off on me about Ellen. I never made any promises to you. I’ve never been anything but honest.”

“That’s the point. You haven’t made any promises, and we’ve been together for almost a year. Do you realize, Rambo, you’ve never once said to me, ‘I love you’? Now I’m asking you, are you ever?”

Desi rose to her knees. Mason thought she looked even more beautiful angry with her lifted chin and eyes flashing.

He sat up and began to stroke her long tresses.

“This afternoon,” Mason said, “you told me you weren’t going to do this anymore. You said if you had to force me into saying something about us having a future together, it wouldn’t be real. Well, I got news for you darlin’; I don’t have a crystal ball; I can’t see past today. So how in the hell am I supposed to tell you we’ll always be together?  Shit happens…people change!”

Desi closed her eyes. Her face contorted in pain.

“Rambo,” she whispered. “You already have.”

Desi’s eyes opened and tears streamed down her face.

Mason reached up to brush them away, but Desi slapped his hand down.  Her chest heaved. Mason swallowed. The pain in her eyes made him realize how much he had hurt her. He hadn’t meant to. Mason thought Desi knew he never had any intentions of making a commitment, and getting angry over Ellen was ludicrous--she was a curiosity.

Desi wrung her hands. “I love you, Rambo. I don’t understand why you don’t feel the same.”

“I care about you, Desi.” He hated to be the cause of her suffering, but he couldn’t lie.

“I want more than that.” She bit her bottom lip.

Mason took her hand. “I know you do, but why can’t we keep things like they are? You make me happy. I make you happy. Why do we have to change things?”

Desi squeezed his hand. “You just said, ‘things change, shit happens’ and when it does Rambo, I want to know you’ll be there.”

Mason closed his eyes and shook his head. His words stung him. Desi slipped her hand from his, laid down, and covered herself with the sleeping bag, facing the canvas wall. The tent filled with silence. Mason exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair, than laid beside her and pulled her close.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Desi’s voice cracked. “I don’t ever want to see you again, Rambo.”

“Come on Desi, you don’t mean that.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Mason closed his eyes thinking how their ending came so subtly.
No yelling and screaming. No fanfare of any kind. It just ended. He didn’t feel sad-- more weary and worn out. He sat up and pulled on his boots. Crawling out of the tent, he heard Desi crying, but he could offer her no comfort. He zipped up the flaps. Walking over to the case of whiskey, he picked up a new bottle. Mason found a long stick and sat down by the fire. Drowsy flames burned beneath the red smoldering coals. Poking them, they flared back to life. Voices drifted up from the river, bordering the farm, but the campsites were dark and quiet. He opened the bottle and took a long drink. Not even its fire soothed him.

Mason grabbed a piece of firewood and threw it on the fire. Sparks flew. He hadn’t realized his reaction to Ellen had been so obvious. The two women were so unlike each other. Ellen didn’t appear to be a high maintenance woman like Desi. But then again, maybe that came from Desi being so damn beautiful. Desi craved attention all the time. If she didn’t get enough, she made it known. Like she just had.
 

Mason pushed another lawn chair out in front of him, resting his boots on it. He looked up into the night sky. Already in the east the morning light was beginning to subdue the darkness. He had busted his butt to be in the Sons of Thunder so he could ride with brothers and have no responsibilities to hold him back. That’s how he pictured his life.  Now, the possible job offer from Jack put a whole new spin on things. Mason’s life would become unpredictable and dangerous. The aspect of danger didn’t bother him, it kept the mundane at bay, but it was another good reason not to be burdened with a family.

Ellen’s laughter interrupted his thoughts. Mason turned his head toward the direction of Mad Dog’s tent and listened. The rattle of a soft breeze slipping through tree branches was all he heard. 
One thing Desi was right about; if she wasn’t here, Ellen would be sleeping in my tent.

Staring into the fire, Mason took another drink of whiskey. He should throw some more wood on, but he didn’t have the energy to get up and get it.

“Shit!” Mason said to the empty circle of chairs, laying his head back on his shoulders. The ageless light of the stars blinked and crickets crooned to their mates, who hid in the darkness and tall grass. He longed for sleep.

***

Knees drawn up to her chest, arms hugging them, Ellen watched Mad Dog spread the sleeping bag over the inflatable mattress and toss two pillows at the far end.

“Come my damsel in distress, your bed chamber awaits.” Mad Dog waved his hand over the crude mattress.

Giggling, Ellen crawled onto the open sleeping bag and rested her head on the pillow. Mad Dog sat next to her, covered them with a blanket then lay back, turning on his side. A small LED lantern turned the interior a gentle blue. They faced one another.

Ellen studied him. The coal blackness of Mad Dog’s eyes no longer looked cold and menacing. Mellow, like a dense red wine, they drew her to safety. The earthy scent of his clothes, the smoke tangled in his hair and the soft blush behind his beard accentuated his masculinity. “So what do we do now?”  Ellen braved the question.

“What do you want to do?”

Self-conscious, she swallowed. “I don’t know. I never had a one night stand before.”

Mad Dog smiled.

“What’s so funny?” Sweat beaded across her hairline. Nervous energy accelerated her pulse.

He rose up on his elbow.  “What makes you think I have?”

“You never had a one night stand?”

Mad Dog shook his head.

“I don’t believe you. You’re making fun of me. All guys have had one night stands.”

“Really? And how, may I ask, do you know that?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it an unwritten law of manhood? All the love stories I’ve ever read, the hero is always a roguish ladies’ man. Love um and leave um type.”

“I haven’t read too many love stories unless--
Playboy
counts--but I’ve never had sex with a woman one night and not seen her again. I’m sure I could be persuaded to give it a try though.”  His dark eyes twinkled. “Mrs. Abrams, does this mean you consider me your hero?”

“Well let’s see… First, I was threatened with my life if I didn’t return with you. Second, I suffered a third degree burn on my ankle--”

Mad Dog winced. “How’s that doing anyway?

“I can’t feel a thing. I’m too drunk. But to get back to this hero business….” She continued to count off his transgressions on her fingers. “Thirdly, some drunk wanted a foursome.  Fourth, I witnessed a vicious fight. And fifth, Spider wanted me to pet his tattooed dick. That’s not even counting Desi wanting to bitch slap me around all night and, oh yeah, you taught me how to smoke an illegal substance. So what do you think?”  Ellen arched her eyebrows.

“Shit. When you put it like that, I guess I’m not exactly the hero kind of guy.” 

They laughed.

“So, Ellen, I know your husband passed away, but there’s not some jealous cowboy going to come looking for me when you get back home, is there?”

“No,” she sighed. “There’s no one.  There hasn’t been anyone since Paul died. I’ve resigned myself to a quiet life of celibacy.”

Ellen looked up at the canvas ceiling. The early morning dampness clinging to the tent walls chilled her. She tucked the blanket under her chin.

“I know how you feel,” Mad Dog replied.

“I know. Dee started to tell me about your wife’s--” Ellen stopped, recognizing the vulnerability in Mad Dog’s eyes.  Despite his size, she knew pursuing the conversation would rip away the thin façade of strength he desperately clung to. She changed the subject. “I can’t wait to tell my sister I spent the night with a biker.”

Mad Dog grinned. “I’m sorry we forced you to come back with us. We had no right. But we wanted you to be safe.”

“I know that now.” She sat up, pulling her knees to her chin. “It’s been quite the experience, but I’m glad I’m here. Think of the stories I have to tell. And sleeping with a handsome biker dude in his tent is so much better than telling people I slept alone in my car.”

Giggling, Ellen covered her face with her hands and then wrapped them around her knees. “It seems like forever since I’ve had fun. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t go out much. It’s hard getting into a relationship when there’s a kid involved. I think the last date I had lasted about an hour before the guy went screaming into the night.”

“Come on, you’re an attractive woman. I’m sure there’s been a lot of guys who wanted to date you.”

Ellen looked at him then lay back down, turning to face him. She propped herself up on her elbow, resting her head in the palm of her hand. “You’re very sweet. There’s been a few… but not a lot. If I don’t scare them off, my son does. Not too many men want to take on a ten-year-old autistic boy.”

Ellen looked into his dark eyes and wondered why their close proximity didn’t conjure the same edgy energy as Mason? Why didn’t his eyes strip her naked? She reached up and patted down the collar of his flannel shirt.

“Did you do that for your husband?”

“Do what?”

Mad Dog’s eyes moved to her hand.

“Oh!” Ellen smiled. “Paul was a contractor. He wore T-shirts mostly.”

“I’d have thought he’d have a desk job.”

“Paul? No. He loved being outside and doing physical work.”

Mad Dog put his hands behind his head. His chest expanded.

“Why aren’t you with a woman tonight, Mad Dog?”

“I thought I was with a woman.”

“You know what I mean?” Ellen frowned.

“I haven’t even thought about dating yet.” He sighed, reaching for the lantern behind him, then switching it off. 

The white light of the moon soaked the tent’s interior with a gentle brightness. Mad Dog’s strong, angular features softened. “Besides there aren’t too many women who want to take on an ornery-assed biker and his three kids.”

“Three kids.” Ellen put her hand on his shoulder. “It must have been hard… to lose their mother so tragically.”

Mad Dog slipped his arm beneath Ellen’s neck, pulling her closer. She felt the heat of his body.

“Tell me about them.”

“My son Sean is twenty. He’s the oldest. He’s going to NWTC, majoring in forestry, and don’t ask me where he got his brains. Certainly not from me. And then there’s Tess, my seventeen-year-old daughter. She’s a junior. I don’t know what she wants to do except take care of me and her younger sister, Amelia. Amelia is twelve, going on twenty-five. She’s my devil child. Exactly like her old man.” He looked at Ellen, grinning.

Ellen smiled. “Are you implying I might be seeing Amelia at my school some day?”

Mad Dog laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me at all, Mrs. Abrams.”

Ellen snuggled closer, listening to the night sounds outside the tent. In the distance people laughed. A warm breeze rippled against the tent.