Mace, p.11
Mace, page 11
“Ready to get to San Diego?” I asked.
Imogen leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Let’s go, handsome.”
Chapter Sixteen
Imogen
“This is nice.”
Mace kicked down the kickstand and killed the engine. “It will do for the next couple of days.”
“Thank you again for finding a place for us to stay.” I had been so worried about calling my grandma and wondering if we were going to find the papers we needed that I hadn’t even thought about where we were going to stay.
Mace had thought of it, and we had just pulled up to our rental for the next three nights.
“Rayna actually found it for me. I just gave her my credit card and told her to book it.”
I slid off the bike and took off my helmet. “I’ll make sure to thank Rayna for the next time I see her.”
We walked up to the front door, and Mace entered the keycode on the lock.
“I just want to check in with Dorothy at work, and then we can head to my grandma’s. I figure we should start there first.” I had thought about calling the hospital to ask about the papers we were looking for, but I didn’t want to get my grandma in trouble if I didn’t have to. I knew my grandma was a bit of a hoarder, and I was hopeful she had hidden the papers somewhere.
“I’m gonna grab the rest of our stuff from the bike.” Mace headed back outside, and I flopped onto the plush couch.
I was still vibrating from the bike, and it was nice to sit without hurtling down the highway. I pulled out my phone and called Dorothy.
“Brooks Crematorium. How can I help you today?” Dorothy rattled off.
“Could you get six Elvis impersonators to lower my husband’s casket into the ground?” I asked.
“Well, that all depends on if your husband is imaginary, or you’re telling me you and Mace stopped off to get married, and you’re already sick of him.”
A laugh bubbled from my lips. “Come on. I can never trick you.”
“That’s because I know your voice, Imogen, even when you’re trying to find Elvis impersonators. You need to find a new bit,” Dorothy laughed. “So,” she drawled. “How was your road trip with the sexy biker?”
“We made it. Mace rented a place for us for the next few days.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t even think of where we were going to stay while we were here.”
“The sexy biker saves the day again.”
I glanced out the window and watched Mace grab my small bag from the saddlebag. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at taking care of me.”
“Which you need.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” I muttered.
“You don’t, but it’s nice to have. I need to find me a Mace.”
“I saw Brad last night.”
Dorothy scoffed. “No, thank you. Been there, done that. The man cared more about himself than he did me.”
“You went out one time with him, Dorothy, and you got upset because you told him you didn’t want another drink, so he didn’t get you one.”
“Who does that?” Dorothy demanded. “He should have known that one lemon drop martini is not enough. He’s a bartender for god’s sake.”
“Yes, not a mind reader.”
“Whatever,” Dorothy grumbled. “The man should have known I wanted another one and just said I didn’t so I didn’t look like a lush.”
“The man is a bartender, Dorothy; he’s surrounded by lushes.”
“Enough about Brad,” she sighed.
“Fine, fine. How is work?”
“Well,” Dorothy drawled. “No clients, but I will have a few guests while you’re gone.”
“Guests? What are you talking about?”
“Say hi,” she called.
A chorus of hi’s and hello’s sounded.
“What in the what?” I laughed. “Who is there?”
“Raelynn, Mitzy, and Memphis. They showed up about three hours ago and insisted on staying here until you get back. They brought a hot biker with them to make sure we all behave.”
“Hi, I’m Memphis! And my hot biker came with us,” Memphis called.
“You got to meet Six-Gun before I did?” That wasn’t fair. Dorothy was meeting Mace’s family before I got to.
“He’s just as hot as I expected. I find it amazing that these women don’t chain their men to bed and never let them put clothes on.”
“Dorothy,” I scolded. “You can’t say that.”
“Why not? It would be more offensive if I didn’t acknowledge their hotness.”
“She’s good,” one of the girls hollered. “She doesn’t give off the steal your man vibe.”
“Thank you,” Dorothy preened. “I like to ogle men with respect.”
“Well, now I’m jealous you are there, and I don’t get to hang out with everyone.” I was having a great time with Mace, but I was sure the next few days would not be fun.
“You’ll be back before you know it. Besides, I’m putting the girls to work. This place needs a good scrub down, so they are going to help.”
“Well, Mr. Brooks will love that.” Whenever he was at the funeral home, he fussed at Dorothy and me to clean more.
Mace walked into the house and set my bag by the couch.
“I’ll love it, too, because I don’t have to do it by myself. Let me get off this phone and get these girls some hot water and a rag. Call me if you need anything.”
“Same to you,” I called. I ended the call and tossed my phone on the couch. “Did you know some of the girls were staying at the funeral home while I’m gone?”
Mace nodded. “We had church before I left, and Barracuda decided to send some help.”
“What?” I laughed. “What is church? Is Barracuda a pastor or something?”
“God, no.” Mace shook his head. “That’s just what we call our meetings, babe.”
“Oh, is that where all the club business happens?” I had heard the girls mumbling about club business and how the guys always said that when they didn’t want to tell the girls what was happening.
“It’s club business, babe. Shit no one needs to know except for club members,” he informed me.
“I think that is just a nice way of saying you guys like to keep secrets.”
“Imogen,” he drawled.
“Fine, fine,” I laughed. “I don’t want to argue with you. We can save that debate for another day.”
“You’re gonna fit in just fine with the rest of ol’ ladies.”
“I’m going to be an ol’ lady?”
He moved to the window looking out to the street and pulled the blinds. “Isn’t that where this is going?” he asked.
I hoped that was where we were headed, but I didn’t want to assume anything. “If that is what you want.” There, that was somewhat hinting at me wanting to be his ol’ lady, but it wasn’t flat-out screaming it to the world. Yet.
“A lot of shit is going to go down the next few weeks, and you and I not knowing what we’re doing is not something I want to deal with.”
“Uh, so?”
He shook his head and laughed. “So you wanna be my ol’ lady, Imogen?”
My heart raced at the thought of being Mace’s ol’ lady. That was huge. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“Yes or no, babe. We’re not beating around the bush here.”
Wow. WOW. My heart raced, and I fought back the urge to scream yes. “I would like that.” I crossed my legs and demurely folded my hands on my knees.
“You would like that, huh?” Mace stalked to me and scooped me into his arms. “Would you like this, too?” His lips crashed down on mine, and he took my breath away. “Things in my life could change really quickly soon, Imogen. I could be spending the rest of my life in prison or get off scott free. I need to know either way you’re with me. I can’t play games and go back and forth with you. Are you mine?” he growled.
My eyes dropped to his lips, and I didn’t hold back what I wanted to say this time. “I’ve been yours since you knocked the Pratt boys out. It was you then, and it’s still you.”
“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “I never forgot about you, Imogen.”
I face-planted into his chest. I always loved Mace. He was the only person I had in my life who cared about me. Every morning we would walk to school together, and most afternoons we made the walk home together. And the one afternoon he was late getting out of school, I left alone, but he was there when I absolutely needed him.
Sure, it would have been great if he had been five minutes sooner, but I had learned that things in life happened for a reason, and it was all about the way you rose from the ashes and moved on.
After fifteen years, I was ready to move on with Mace.
“Also, for the record, I will call you Mace, but you’ll always be Mason in my heart.”
He chuckled low and rubbed his hands up and down my back. “I accept that, babe. And I would also like it to be on record that if you would have given me even the slightest clue that you were into me back then, my horny seventeen-year-old ass would have been all over you like a fat kid on a cupcake.”
“Mace,” I giggled. I stroked his stubbled cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You are such a sweet talker.”
“It’s the damn truth, babe. You don’t even want to know how many nights I spent thinking about you.”
“No! I don’t want to hear this because it makes me mad that I missed all these years with you.” I shook my head. “No.” I didn’t even want to think about what I would have done if I knew Mace liked me. So many things would have been different, but this end result might now have happened. I leaned my head back and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now let’s go see my grandma and find the papers that will prove you didn’t kill Kent.”
“And those papers are also going to prove you’re innocent, too, babe. If I’m not going down for his murder, neither are you.”
I wasn’t completely sure about that, but I was hopeful he was right.
Mace and hope were all I had.
Chapter Seventeen
Mace
“I don’t know if I am ready for this.”
We were standing outside of Imogen’s grandma’s room, and she was wringing her hands like they were a soaking wet towel. “What are you afraid of, babe?” She had told me her grandma wasn’t exactly happy about her moving to San Diego with her, but the woman had to care about her somewhat since she let her stay with her.
“Of her,” she whispered. “For four years, I did everything possible to make her happy, and nothing was ever good enough. I could tell her I got an A on my algebra test, and she would want to know why it wasn’t an A+. The woman hated me, just like my own mom hated me.”
“Well, if she hates you, this can be the last time you ever have to talk to her. We ask her if she has the papers we need or if she knows where to find them, and then we leave.” I wasn’t going to make Imogen be around a woman who didn’t like her. Hell, I didn’t want to be around someone who couldn’t see how wonderful Imogen was.
Growing up, the people that should have been important in Imogen’s life treated her like she was a waste of air.
I wasn’t going to let another person ever make her feel like that again.
If I had to punch an old lady, then you can bet your ass I would.
“We ask her about the report, and then we go.”
“In and out,” I agreed. I laced my fingers through hers, and she raised her other hand to knock on the door.
“Come on,” a frail voice called.
She pushed open the door, and we stepped inside the small apartment.
A lamp to the right cast a shadow in the kitchen, and the only other light was the window on the far wall. A small TV was on the wall playing an episode of Jeopardy, and an old woman sat in a recliner in front of the window.
“Hi, Grandma,” Imogen called.
“Is that you, Sally?”
Imogen rolled her eyes. “Uh, no, it’s me, Imogen. Remember I called you yesterday and told you I was coming to visit today.”
“Oh, yes,” her grandma remembered. “Come have a seat. I’m in the middle of my show.” She motioned to the couch. “Mind the cat hair.”
“Cat?” I hissed.
“It’s assisted living,” she murmured. “She’s allowed to have pets as long as she takes care of them.” Imogen moved into the apartment and sat in the middle of the couch.
“Who are you?” her grandma demanded.
“I’m Mason, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.” I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with her. If she was going to help us, we needed to keep things as civil as possible.
“I’m Janet. Why are you here?”
“Grandma,” Imogen scolded. “He’s my....”
“Fiancé,” I interrupted.
“You’re getting married?” Janet demanded. “Since when?”
Imogen’s jaw dropped, and she struggled to speak.
I sat down next to her and held her hand in my lap. “It just happened, and Imogen is still in shock.”
“Just happened,” Imogen repeated.
Janet eyed me with scrutiny. “Are you a criminal?”
“Grandma!” Janet scolded. “You can’t say that.”
Janet waved her hand at us and sat back in her chair. “I can say whatever I want. I held my tongue for the past eighty-nine years.”
“Mace is not a criminal,” Imogen insisted.
“At least not yet convicted.”
“Mace,” Imogen hissed. “That is not helping.”
Janet busted out laughing. She wagged her finger at me and smiled. “You’re a criminal, but you’re an honest one. I like that.”
“He’s not a criminal, grandma. Stop saying that.” Imogen crossed her legs and leaned into me. “He’s just part of a motorcycle club.”
“Do you love her?” Janet asked.
“Gra–.” Imogen started.
“Oh, stop, Imogen. I wasn’t kidding when I said I say what I want now. Though I didn’t need to ask if he loved you because I could see it the second you walked in the door.”
“You thought I was mom when I walked in the door. I don’t think your vision is what you think it is.”
Janet tsked. “I knew it was you, Imogen. I was just testing you.”
“Testing me?”
Janet nodded. “Testing to see if you still hate her as much as I do.”
“I never said I hat–.”
“She does,” I interrupted. “More than when she lived here.”
Janet nodded while Imogen sputtered.
“About damn time. The only thing that woman ever did for you was give you life and then tried to take it away for fifteen years.” Janet grabbed the remote and turned the volume down.
“I, uh, you...” Imogen shook her head. “You hate my mom?”
Janet nodded. “I loved her for a long time, and then she had you. Something changed in her, and I couldn’t handle it.”
“You stopped loving her when she had me? I was the change you didn’t like?” Imogen asked.
Janet shook her head. “No, girl. I stopped loving her when she started hating you. She had an angel in her arms; instead, she saw you as a burden. A hindrance to the party life she loved so much. The party life she had to blame for not even knowing who your dad was because she was so strung out on drugs that she didn’t know whom she talked to, let alone whom she slept with.”
Imogen knew all of this. Hell, the whole town of Sutter Creek knew this. It wasn’t a secret that Sally Parker was not mother of the year.
“I tried for years to get you from her, but she fought it just to piss me off. She kept you because I wanted you.” Janet closed her eyes and sighed. “She had you until she was so neglectful that evil stole your innocence.”
“Mama always told me you hated me,” Imogen insisted. “Hell, I thought you hated me more than she did.”
Janet opened her eyes, and I could see the years of sadness in them. “I loved you the second you were born, child. After fifteen years, I finally got you, and you were so broken and beaten that I let the hate I had for your mother harden me. I hated the world for tearing you apart and leaving me with the pieces to put back together.”
“So you decided to hate me, too?” Imogen cried. “I just needed someone to love me, and you decided to hate me!”
Janet closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. “I’m not proud of what I did, Imogen. I gave you the physical things you needed but nothing else.”
“But you couldn’t give me the one thing that was free. I just needed to be loved. I just needed to believe for one second that I wasn’t a burden on everyone around me.” Imogen pointed at me. “This man, who was a boy when I met him twenty years ago, gave me that love without ever wanting anything in return. He protected me when he didn’t have to and was there when I was ready to lay down and die. I should have gotten that from you and mom, but you two were more worried about hurting the other one that in the end I was the one who was hurt. Mom is off living her life without a care in the world, and you–.”
“And I’m here every day regretting my choices, Imogen. I know nothing I say to you is going to take back the hurt and pain, but I want you to know I regret it. I regret letting my anger rob me of you.”
Imogen stood and ran her fingers through her hair. “And you want to know the craziest thing? When I was hurt, raped,” she sobbed, “I still ran to you. I ran from this wonderful, caring man to you so you could neglect me and pound into me that no matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough.”
“Babe,” I called. I didn’t want this for her. I didn’t want to watch her relive the years of neglect and hurt. We should never have come here. Getting myself off the hook wasn’t worth the pain and hurt Imogen was feeling.
“No,” she spat. “She says she loved me; then she is going to hear all about the things I had to endure because she loved me but hated my mother more.”
“Tell me, Imogen,” Janet sighed. “I deserve to know it all because I’m the reason it happened. I couldn’t put aside my own feelings to care for you.”
