Bullet: Devil's Rose MC #5

Chapter 18: Mason Ohara

Piper eventually pulls a white rectangle box out of her purse. She gently hands the box to me but tells me not to open it quite yet. Her hands are shaking, her blush traveling down her neck so fucking sexily.

If she knew how many times I say fuck or the different renditions of fuck in my head, I think she would pass out.

"If you hate it, I can return it."

Highly unlikely, just to clarify.

"I probably won't hate it."

She gives me a pointed look but doesn't comment.

"M'kay. Here it goes."

"I can open it?"

"Yeah, open it."

I carefully take off the lid of the box, not wanting to damage the carefully wrapped present, and find a simple, silver chain link necklace. I run my fingers over the metal links, exploring the length of the necklace and the thin chain.

"I broke your other one last week, so I thought I would buy you a new one."

"I love it. Thank you. I'm gonna put it on right now."

"I'm glad you like it. I was worried that you had a specific design in mind for a new one."

I don't care about some fucking design as long as she's the one to be giving me the necklace. I'll pretty much wear anything she gives me. Well, I can't say anything.

I drape it around the back of my neck and turn my head around, so Piper can help me lock the necklace into place. I'm never going to fucking take it off. She blushes for about the twentieth time tonight when she sees it laying near my collarbones. 

I think she's enjoying seeing me wear the necklace as much as I enjoy wearing it. My upper teeth dip down into my lower lip while I watch her take a long sip of wine. Fuck, how does she make that so fucking sexy?

"I'm going to ask you something, and I don't want you to get scared."

"Angel, if you say shit like that, I'm going be fucking terrified."

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.

"In hanging out with the Old Ladies, I've heard a lot about the MC and what you guys do. Also, some of the rules and regulations that come with being a member. But they didn't tell me your exact job. I mean, what do you do?"

Panic rises, the butterflies in my stomach set ablaze, the pressure on my upper chest the weight of an elephant. I clear my throat, tossing my hand up in the air to signal the waiter.

"Can you bring me some whiskey, please?"

"Of course, sir. Anything you need?"

"No, I think we're good. Thank you."

"I'll be back soon."

We sit in uncomfortable silence as we wait for the waiter to arrive back with my drink. Piper's eyes bore into the side of my face, heat rushing to my chest but not in a good way this time. I run my palms over my pants and curse myself about the amount of sweat I'm producing. 

Fuck, why did she have to ask a question like that? I should fucking tell her, but she's never going to fucking look at me the same. What's she going to think when she knows about the blood that stains my hands? 

What will she say when she knows that I've sacrificed good and healthy relationships to kill people for a living? I don't want to fucking lie to her. I haven't this far, and I'm not about to start, but I just don't know what's she going to say.

What if she never wants to speak to me again? What if she hates me after this?

I don't think I could live a good life knowing that the best person in this world hates me.

"I didn't want to tell you about my cancer journey because of how I thought you would look at me. I didn't want you to see me as this weak and fragile thing to be taken care of. I didn't want you to pity me or feel the need to cater to my feelings. 

"But I was wrong in thinking you would do any of those things. I know it's scary to tell me the more imperfect parts of you, but you don't have to be. I know that what you do isn't exactly PG, and there is gray area. Give me the benefit of the doubt."

I don't say anything in response. There's nothing to be said. I'm not going to lie to her or sugarcoat my job. I'm going to risk her hating me for my honesty. That way if she leaves, then I can say that I at least didn't lie to her. That sounds like a good plan to me.

Once Noah, our waiter, has dropped my whiskey in front of me, I find myself playing with my new necklace as I give her the dirty details of my work.

"The Devil's Rose MC is hired by local, state, and federal law enforcement to do lots of things. Sometimes it's cleaning up their messes or having a closer eye on a potential threat or destroying a threat altogether."

"And they pay you well, I'm guessing."

"Yes, they do. Very much so."

Piper nods her head in understanding before gently asking me to continue.

"Since childhood, I've had a knack for guns. I was surrounded by them every day. I grew up in Texas. My grandparents immigrated from Japan and had my mother who fell in love with my American father and then they had me and my older brother Hugo. 

"I would spend a lot of time with my grandparents, learning the Japanese language and culture, plus other East Asian cultures, but also trying to fit into American culture. So yeah, we had guns."

I pause for a moment, taking a sip of my drink and eyeing Piper to make sure that she's okay with me talking about this kind of thing. She doesn't seem to be overwhelmed yet. I know she's going to be soon though, and she's going to need a break from me. It'll be days before she speaks to me again and she might decide that I'm not worth her time. Then, I'll be completely fucked - in a bad way.

"Anyway, so I ended up becoming an official member of the club however many years later. It was clear to the past President that I uh, was good with guns. Ever since that's been my gig."

"I'm sure you shoot people with them. Not to be super blunt, but have there been a lot of kill shots?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, angel."

"That's such a juxtaposition."

I don't think that was the point of what I was saying, but you know, whatever floats her boat.

"Since you asked the question, yeah, I've killed before. What's worse is that those people I killed aren't what I have nightmares about at night."

Piper pauses as though she's about to ask about what my nightmares are about, but she decides to ask that another day. Thank fucking God. I swear I'm not religious in the Christian sense of religion, it's just fun to say shit like that, especially with the history that I have. I'm more agnostic than anything.

"But you don't kill people every time you go out?"

"No, killing people happens only when I deem it necessary, which isn't as often as you think. I try to apprehend people and give them the punishment they deserve. Death is too easy for some of the people the Devil's Rose MC deals with."

Fuck. She's going to fucking hate me.

Why did I not think before letting that shit come out of my mouth?

"That's hella sexy, Bullet."

I choke on the whiskey sliding down my throat, slapping my chest with my hand to cough up the burning liquid. A blush instantly appears on Piper's face, her eyes cast toward the table. I blink for a few seconds as I try to form words to reply. Did she say that or am I hallucinating? 

By the expression on her face, I don't think I am, but I could be wrong. I mean, what on earth is sexy about me killing people? Or, technically, not killing people to have them serve a harsher punishment? I practically condemn them to suffer for the rest of their life. Well deserved but still.