“Well, given you can’t even get your sorry ass past a red light, why don’t you get on the back of my bike and I’ll drive you over?”
Mason’s eyes registered surprise, like he couldn’t believe that after all the fighting of the past few months, I’d still want to help him. But that’s why we were Black Reapers and not Bernard Boys. Even when we wanted to cave in each other’s skulls, we were still men in an MC.
“Goddamnit,” he said. “You’re going to make me be one of your bitches on the bike.”
“Back in the day, sure,” I said.
“Don’t act like you’ve changed,” Mason said, but again, it was all in jest. “Just get me to the hospital before you get confused and try and get me in bed.”
“Hey, you do want to get in bed. A hospital bed!”
Mason punched me weakly as he mounted my bike. He looked back at his wistfully, perhaps a little afraid of leaving it in a public spot. But I figured the club would take it back to the shop. Mason wouldn’t love the idea of one of the officers taking his bike back in, but if Brock had had his returned, then Mason could handle it.
“Let’s fucking go, you sister-fucker.”
I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing at that. If Mason could crack a joke like that, then things between us were…well, at least not what they had been.
I sped to the hospital and stopped in front of the ER. Mason put one arm over my shoulder and hopped his way inside. One of the attending nurses saw us and scrambled for help. Within no more than a minute, they had him on a bed and were wheeling him to a hospital room.
“And you, sir,” she said, looking at my cut. “You’ve been hit too.”
“Yeah, I know, but I need to make sure this asshole’s fine,” I said. “I need to be stronger and not get work done until I know he’s out.”
“Fuck you, Garrett!” Mason said, giving a middle finger over the hordes of doctors.
“You’re welcome, Jett!”
“Jett?” one of the doctors asked.
“Yeah, that’s Mason Jett,” I said. “The one and only.”
The doctor looked at the other nurses.
“Don’t see that every day.”
“See what?” Mason said.
I got a bad feeling about this.
“There’s another Jett here.”
“Hannah?” I said.
“My sister?”
The doctor pursed his lips, perhaps realizing that he had said too much already. Fortunately for him, I wasn’t going to call him out for some violation; I was just thankful Dr. Scrubs had blurted out the truth. Because there was only one reason that Hannah would be at this hospital.
“I’ll keep you updated, Mason!” I yelled as I sprinted toward the signs that said “Labor and Delivery.”
“You better fucking make sure she’s OK!” Mason yelled, struggling against the doctors. “Don’t you dare be late for your kid’s birth!”
But he didn’t need to tell me that.
I wasn’t going to miss welcoming my child into the world for anything. Not even another mission.
Hannah
“Fuck!”
