Jase (33 page)

Mason nodded, pressing his lips together in irritation; he wanted to talk Jase into at least thinking about this offer. “I hear
ya
, but there’s no catch, man. Seriously. The club will foot the expense of your schooling, and in
return,
you agree to consider managing the Fort Wayne businesses. If it works out, we’ll make it back fast; I know that for sure. Myron has more than he can handle with Chicago, and now he’s had to layer St. Louis and Memphis on top of that.”

He eyed Jase, evaluating his reactions and attitude. Jase still looked unsure, holding his four fingers up in
argument
. “DeeDee has taken over a lot of the business side of things for our shit in the Fort, but that spreads her too thin for my comfort. Hell, she
pretty much has
her hands full with Slinky’s; forget all the extra shit. She wants to open a private gentlemen’s club, but unless we can cut her free from some of what she’s doing now, that won’t happen. That’d be one of the payoffs.” Mason held up four fingers and
wiggled
them at Jase, then folded them all down against his palm, bringing his hand down to his knee. “There’s no downside here, man. I see benefits all around. No strings…no catch. If you decide it’s not for you, then that’s okay. Way I see it, in any case, your degree will benefit DeeDee, and she’s family.”

“What if I decide to play for another five years after I finish the degree? Would you be willing to wait that long? Somehow, I don’t think that would play into your favored scenario. I’m not saying I plan on it, or even could, but look at Daniel, eh? He’s got nearly fifteen years on me and he’s still playing. Every year, he says it’s the last, but then come late summer, he’s out
there
conditioning. I know there are no guarantees in this game, but it doesn’t seem a fair payoff for you unless we set some terms to the deal.” Jase shook his head, reaching up to tug at his earlobe. “I can’t believe I’m telling you to lock things down. My old man would have my ass.” He laughed.

As one corner of his mouth lifted in a wry grin, Mason placed his hands palm-down on the desktop. “See, that’s one of the best reasons right there. Honest to a fault, loyal as the day is long. And you don’t mind working hard for what you want.” He snorted. “Hell, look at DeeDee. You gave up thousands of dollars a year in salary, set your career back by a half a decade, all in order to get the girl. Let me do this, Jase. It’s the right thing…for both of us.” He shifted back
into
his seat, propping his elbows on the desk. “Tell you what, why don’t you take some time to think about it, go ahead and talk to DeeDee. Let’s say a month from today you give me or Slate an answer, yeah?”

“I can do that, man.” Jase nodded.

“Alrighty then, business out of the way. How’s my cousin treating you? You’re looking pretty good.” Mason smiled at him.

He watched as Jase’s face split with the widest grin he had ever seen on the man, his happiness shining through his expression like a blinding light. He was one happy man, and
apparently
, life with DeeDee suited him. Some of the joy left Mason though, and he stopped listening to Jase, because his mind was wandering back to the woman in Fort Wayne who had held his interest for months now. Willa Grace Shipman. They spoke on the phone a couple days a week since he took her to Slate’s wedding, but she was under his skin now, winding herself into his thoughts throughout the day, becoming necessary.
Hell, a few days ago, I nearly took off Slate’s head over an imagined threat to her.
Slate
, my brother in every sense but blood.

“—move out. I think he’s tired of us chaperoning.” Jase laughed.

Mason furrowed his brow, trying to catch back up. Slate took one look at him and
laughed
, then took pity on him, saying, “Gunny’s gonna move the
gal
to his place. He’s
sayin’
she’s his old lady now.”

Surprised, Mason frowned. “Gunny? That mean motherfucker took an old lady?”

Seeing Jase shift in his seat, Mason patiently clarified, “No disrespect for your sister intended, man. You know us calling a woman an old lady is a title of respect. It’s like being married, but bigger, more. Loyalty from the club includes his
woman
, and she becomes
family
for us all. Any Rebel would die for her now. I’m surprised, because Gunny wasn’t ever in the market for a steady
hookup
. He’s a good man, good brother, rock-solid member, but never even fucked around with club pussy. It’s one of the reasons he was
a good
fit for the strip
joint,
because he wasn’t tempted to dip into the girls.”

Jase’s eyes darted up, gaze catching on Mason’s. He opened his mouth and closed it, then opened again. Slowly, he spoke, “He told me something that’s stuck with me. He said when they were taking her to the
house
that by the time they got there, he wasn’t able to let her go. The whole time they’ve been staying with us, I don’t think she’s been more than an arm’s length from him more than two or three times. The look on his face when he watches her…it looks like how I feel about DeeDee.” He cut his eyes over to Slate. “How you feel about Ruby.”

Mason rubbed a hand over his scalp, feeling the bristle of hair against his palm. “Sometimes, when you know, you just know. Out of the blue, like lightning, yeah?”

The two men nodded along with him, all in agreement that the ways of love were mysterious.

***

“Jesus Murphy, man.” Jase gasped for
air
, bending over, hands on his waist. “Are you trying to kill me, Dugger?”

Lee laughed at Jase, continuing to jog in place. “Where’s that famous Spencer stamina? Come on, we’ve only covered seven miles. Three more to go before we can even call this a real run.”

Shaking his head, Jase stepped back onto the path, beginning to jog onward at a slower pace. Side-by-side, they ran in companionable silence for a few minutes. Lee pressed him again, gradually increasing their speed until they were once more
at
a fast run, but not quite a sprint. Looking sideways at Jase, he asked, “You healed?”

Nodding, Jase pounded out
a few more paces before he responded, dragging in air
between phrases. “Yeah, Adam says
one-hundred-percent
. Feels good, too. That groin had been tweaked for a couple months before it finally went. Being on IR forced me to give it real time to heal.”

“I heard you had an interesting meeting in Chicago a few days ago.” He was looking straight ahead, and even though it wasn’t couched as a question, Jase couldn’t miss the
tight
, interrogative tone in the man’s voice.

“Not sure interesting is the right word. I just met with some friends from my Chicago days.” Jase was having to work hard to control his breathing; the pace Lee set was faster than his
usual
run. “Why? What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Lee said quickly.

“Lotta something for nothing,” he said in return.

“It was mentioned at a league meeting.” Lee looked sidelong at him again,
apparently
gauging his reaction.

Jase pulled to an abrupt stop, his chest rising and falling with his hard pants for breath. “A league meeting? What the hell does the league care who I hang out with in an away city where I used to live?”

Lee had circled back around and now stood in front of him. “It’s mostly back up the chain to NHL, but when you’re the co-captain and burgeoning franchise player, they care. They don’t want any clouds to stain their idea of what
a
team leader should be.
Malinowski questioned me pretty hard about your association with a known criminal figure.”

“Known criminal figure?” Jase’s voice held a tone of frank disbelief. “You talking about Davis Mason?”

Lee nodded, pulling up the tail of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “That’s the name they were most interested in, yeah.”

Barking a disbelieving laugh, Jase said, “Did you know he’s on the Chicago City Council? He owns at least a dozen businesses in Chicago, and another near dozen here in Fort Wayne. He’s also my girlfriend’s cousin, and my friend. You and Malinowski can back the fuck off, man.” He shook his head in disgust. “Was this the reason for the invite this morning? Thought you’d grill me while we ran? Fuck this. I’m going home.”

“Jase,” Lee said, but stopped when Jase turned and nailed him with a glance.

“No, man. I give a hundred-fifty-percent on the ice every single game. I do the extra assignments along with the rest of the team, show up ready to
go at
practices, gladly lead, even during loss slumps. My commitment and dedication to the team are above reproach. But that’s where the team ends, where the game ends. My life is my own, and if they don’t like it…well, they can cut me. Put me on
fucking
waiver.” He turned and jogged across the park towards the parking lot.

“Jase.” Lee chased after him. “It’s not like that.”

“No? That’s
funny,
because it sure sounds like that from here. They gonna dictate what color boxers I wear, too? How about what flavor condoms I use? Have at me, then. But wanna know what I think? Wanna know where I think we’re going with this? Judgmental
asshole
. Cut me.” Jase made a dismissive gesture, sweeping Lee’s unspoken words aside. “Fuck. This.”

He continued jogging towards the lot, taking a moment to plug his earbuds in, turning the music up loud. He laughed aloud when Like A Storm’s song
Love The Way You Hate Me
began to play.
Definitely fitting
, he thought, listening as the words reminded him it was worth it to stay true to what he knew was
right,
and being associated with people like Mason was right. He knew that…no doubts.

The Rebels were people who…
What had they done that suits would have knowledge of and consider a crime?
Was it because they had supported his girlfriend and sister unconditionally? That they stood beside a grieving woman for years, selflessly giving so she had time to heal? That they spent tirelessly of themselves to make life better for so many people? No, the Rebels dared to live their own lives without worrying about fitting into society’s normal categories. That was their crime.
Fuck the suits
, he thought.

He climbed up into his truck and listened to the song again, looking across the lot at the man standing there, someone he thought was his friend. A man who had just judged him based not on his own values and qualities, but on some kind of jumped-up, unwarranted, biased bullshit he heard from fucking suits who lived a world away. Men who would never know the value of a friendship like he shared with the Rebels.
I’m the only one who has to live in my own head
, he thought.
I’m the only one who knows what’s right here
. Reaching out and viciously twisting the key, he started the truck and drove home.

“Now
these
are the kinds of events I don’t mind getting roped into,” Jase spoke to Lee from his position nearby, both men leaning casually against the wall. He felt the distance that had begun dividing their friendship over the past week and realized he missed joking around with his friend.

“Yeah,” Lee said, “the kids are
awesome
. The setting, not so much.” Jase nodded in agreement. “I wanted to apologize, Jase,” he told Jase quietly. “I was out of line. I checked things out after what you said and you were on target. While there might be some shadows there, the man is not what the league painted him to be.”

Looking at him, Jase saw the sincere regret on his face and nodded. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to worry about it, man. I just don’t care what the league thinks about my friends.” He shrugged. “Mason’s solid, and he’s been a
very good
friend to me. You have to meet him to understand. He
put
together a charity drive with the club that raised more than seventy-thousand dollars for this wing of the hospital. That’s only part of the stuff they do.
There is
a holiday toy
collection
and a couple of events throughout the year for veterans. It’s a club, not a gang, and they are all good men.”

Lee nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I get that I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

They looked around at the open-plan room, painted in vibrant, cheerful colors. Filled with clusters of chairs and sofas, the room was also dotted with wagons laden with precious cargo. The team had several community outreach activities every year, many of
them
children-related. Last month, they had gone to local schools and read to classrooms full of bored third and fourth graders in order to promote literacy. Today, the visit was to the local children’s hospital, hanging out and chatting with the kids in the cancer ward.

Jase stiffened, his gaze focusing on a man across the way. Seated in an armchair next to a boy who looked about fourteen years old, he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The grey-bearded man was also sporting a black leather vest with familiar patches sewn onto the back. Jase knew the
man, as well as the kid,
and he was abruptly sick with fear, because he knew what them being in this room had to mean.

Jase strolled across the waiting room, coming up behind the man. The boy glanced
up,
and recognizing their visitor, crowed, “Jase, hey there.
Good
to see you.”

“Tyler, how you
doin’
?” Jase stepped over to him, reaching to grip his shoulder, leaning down to touch his forehead to the
boy
. He stepped back, turning to look into Bingo’s face, seeing what looked like sullen resignation on his features. He had lost a lot of weight and didn’t look good. In fact, he looked
under
a great deal of strain. “Bingo, man, haven’t seen you in a while.” He reached down a hand, surprised when Bingo stood, pulling him into
a firm
, one-armed clench. His back was thumped three, four, five times, and then he was shoved roughly back.