Mason Soulless Bastards MC Miami Read online

  Mason

  Soulless Bastards MC Miami

  Erin Trejo

  Copyright © 2020 by Erin Trejo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Mason

  2. Whitley

  3. Mason

  4. Whitley

  5. Mason

  6. Whitley

  7. Mason

  8. Whitley

  9. Mason

  10. Whitley

  11. Mason

  12. Whitley

  13. Mason

  14. Whitley

  15. Mason

  16. Whitley

  17. Mason

  18. Whitley

  19. Mason

  20. Whitley

  21. Mason

  22. Whitley

  23. Mason

  24. Whitley

  25. Mason

  26. Whitley

  27. Mason

  28. Whitley

  29. Mason

  30. Whitley

  31. Mason

  32. Whitley

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  1

  Mason

  It doesn’t matter how much I drink, how many pills I pop, or how many lines I snort, the images never seem to fade. They’re always there. Every time I close my fucking eyes, I can still see her. The way she looked at me, her eyes fucking hollow and empty. I’d never seen her look that way in my entire life. I remember reaching for her.

  “Come on sweetheart, you don’t want to do this.”

  Her eyes are completely void. It’s like she isn’t even in there.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I have to. There’s just no other way,” she cries.

  “Briann, come on. You know there’s another way. Let me help you. We can do this together, just like we always have,” I beg her. Silent tears stream down her cheeks. Each one drops to the nothingness below her. If she does this? If she actually jumps? I will die right along with her. My soul frozen in time.

  “I love you, Mason. I really do, but I just can’t do this anymore,” she sobs through her tears.

  My heart beats faster as I listen to the noises in the background. The sounds of the police radios advising that they have a jumper. She isn’t a goddamn jumper, she’s my fucking sister! She’s family. She’s all that I have left.

  “I love you too, darlin’. We can do this. We’ve got this. I know what he did to you Briann. I know how hurt you are, but if you do this, if you jump, you let that fucker win. Don’t let him win, Briann,” I plead, trying to reason with her.

  “Mason, I just can’t do this anymore. Do you know how hard I’ve tried? I can’t do it. Everything that he did to me-” her voice trails off as I run my hand over my face in frustration.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know. I can’t make it go away, but I love you. You have to believe that,” I tell her. My heart is slowly breaking. I can feel it shattering inside of me. I can’t handle seeing her like this. There are days I wonder if she’s better off being elsewhere so that nothing can hurt her again, but then I remember the smile on her face when we were younger, before the pain and humiliation stole her happiness. I want that back. I know she has it in her somewhere. I just want that part of her back in my life.

  “I believe you, Mason. One day you will see that this was my best choice. One day you will get the chance to be happy, when you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Take it when it comes, Mason. You deserve it.”

  Before I can say another word, she does it. She jumps. She actually fucking jumps. “No!” I cry as I race to the edge of the bridge. Three armed police officers shove me back, stopping me from seeing what she’s done to herself. I fall on my ass and cry. She was nineteen years old. She was a baby for fuck’s sake.

  Why the hell is this world so fucked up? Why did she feel she had no choice but to do that? “You shouldn’t have done that, Briann. Why the fuck did you do that?” I cry to myself as I sit on the overpass. I knew her mind was in a dark place; I just didn’t realize how dark. “Why did you do that?” I scream even louder. Hands pat my shoulders as I curl up into myself. I should hate her for what she’s done. I should be pissed at the world, but the only one I’m truly pissed at is myself. I should have been stronger for her. Maybe I didn’t do enough for her? Treatment, counseling, maybe the doctor was right when he told me she needed to be committed? I didn’t want that shit for her. I refused. I fucked up and now she’s gone.

  “Son, I’m so sorry,” one of the cops states as he kneels next to me. I shake him off. Sorry? He didn’t know her. He didn’t give a single shit about her. I wipe my eyes as I shove myself off the ground.

  “Fuck you! She didn’t mean shit to you, man,” I snap at him. His eyes are full of sorrow, but for what? For some random girl he didn’t even know? That’s bullshit.

  “We need to talk to you about sister’s state of mind,” he says softly grabbing my arm. I shake him off with a laugh and take a step back.

  “You wanna know about her state of mind?” I ask. He nods his head as I laugh manically. “She jumped off a fuckin’ bridge man. Isn’t that enough? You think you need more than that? Fuck you and fuck off!” I spit at him before I turn and walk away.

  Those visions still haunt me. Her hair floating in the wind as she leapt, the sound of horns blaring, and tires squealing below. The emptiness I felt when I knew she was truly gone this time and I’d never see her smile again.

  2

  Whitley

  They say laughter is the best medicine, right? I laugh hysterically as Brian overdoses. How the hell do you stop when you’re this far gone? You simply can’t. He lies there with foam and other shit just oozing out of his mouth, but I just can’t stop laughing. What a way to go. Lying on a dingy floor in an old rundown apartment that holds nothing more than homeless and junkies. That’s what I’m doing here.

  I lay back on the floor as the laughter just keeps flowing out of me. I reach over and flick Brian’s arm, but he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s really gone this time? Maybe he finally did what I didn’t. He actually died. Oh, I’ve died before, don’t get me wrong. Twice, to be exact. Every goddamn time they would fucking bring me back. I don’t even know why! I wanted to die. If I didn’t, why the hell would I have overdosed myself? I’m not that fucking stupid. I know how much of this shit I can take for the most part.

  “Brian,” I whisper his name as if he may speak up and answer me. What a fucking joke.

  “Brian!” I try yelling this time. Nothing. No movement. Absolutely fucking nothing.

  “Whit? You here?” I laugh harder when I hear Megan. She always wants to ruin my goddamn high. She’s so into herself. Megan Conner, rich bitch and self-appointed drug rehabilitation counselor. I think she’s full of shit myself. I have yet to see anyone out on these streets that she’s genuinely helped in any way.

  “Whit?” she calls out again. Just hearing her say my name has me laughing even harder, or maybe it’s the sparkling lights that are dancing through my vision.

  “Jesus, Whitley!” she hollers when she steps into the room and sees me. Her eyes move from me to Brian before she rushes to his side. I vaguely hear her on the phone calling for an ambulance. Why is she calling? He wanted to die. He did it on purpose, which is more than I can say for myself.

  “Did you take the same thing he did?” she asks when I hear more footsteps coming. She must have called in her little goons. I keep watching the sparkles d
ance around me and continue to giggle.

  “Whitley, did you take the same thing?” She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. I laugh even louder. I can’t stop it. The drugs are ripping apart any common sense I had, not that I had much to start with.

  “No mother, I didn’t. He had his own shit,” I slur at her. Megan reaches for my neck, checking my pulse.

  “Your heart is racing. We need to get you to a hospital,” she says. I shake my head, I don’t think so; I’m not going back there again. No way in fucking hell. I can hear the sirens in the distance. They can take Brian, but not me. I refuse to go back to that hell hole.

  “Don’t touch me!” I snap at her. Megan has gotten used to our mouths. She isn’t intimidated by us. Why would she be? We are nothing but drugged up junkies that don’t deserve second glances.

  “Enough Whit, you’re going. I don’t care how much you protest,” she says. Oh, the hell I will. She thinks she’s my mother. I shove myself up to my feet and head toward the door when one of her goons steps in front of me.

  “You better move. I don’t think we want a repeat of what happened last time,” I warn him. Yeah, last time was very interesting. They tried to hold me in a room and I completely lost my ever-loving shit. It turned into a huge fight that I of course won by the way. Even high out of my fucking mind I was ready to scrap.

  “Let her go, but follow her in case she passes out,” Megan says over her shoulder. I watch and laugh as goon one moves out of my way. I run down the hallway and out the side door with him running closely behind me. I run in a haze through the back alley until I slam into someone behind the bar.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Did you really beat me out here?” I ask before looking up, and up. Oh shit, that’s not goon one.

  “Satan?” I ask as his menacing eyes burn a hole straight through me. His dark, husky chuckle makes my insides stir.

  “Not exactly,” he says with his hands gripping my shoulders tightly. I can hear goon one coming now. Well, shit!

  “Is someone after you?” Satan asks. I nod my head slowly as spider webs begin to fill my vision. Is his face really cracking?

  “Back there,” he says as he releases me and shoves me behind a dumpster. I stumble and fall to my knees, gasping as the concrete tears into my skin. I hear the flick of a lighter before I smell the cigarette smoke.

  “Did you see a little blonde girl come through here?” goon one asks.

  “Nope. Why the fuck would a little blonde be runnin’ around this part of town at night?” Satan finally says. I can hear goon one as he walks away, his footsteps heavy. With the way my head is spinning, I have to grab the dumpster to even pull myself to my feet. As I round the corner, I see Satan standing there with a cigarette hanging between his lips.

  “Boyfriend?” he asks. I snort.

  “Hell no, he thinks he’s a saint. He’s here to save the goddamn day.” Satan nods, but doesn’t say anything else.

  3

  Mason

  She’s young. Can’t be more than twenty-three if that. Fucked out of her mind, but that shit doesn’t bother me any. Her little green eyes still hold a spark of life. It makes me wonder what her story is.

  “You shouldn’t be out here runnin’ around at night. Never know who might be out here,” I tell her as I step closer to her. Her eyes come up and meet mine.

  “What? You like what you see? Satan, we have met on multiple occasions. I thought you’d remember me by now,” she says almost looking pissed that I don’t recognize her.

  “I can promise you that we’ve never met.”

  “We have to! You wouldn’t let me go. You kept telling me that I was yours and only yours. We danced.” Oh, this little girl was beyond gone.

  “How much you use tonight?” I ask her stepping even closer. Her eyes stay on mine, but I can see her shrinking back into herself. I don’t give a fuck; I like them scared. I want her scared.

  “More than enough unless you have something better,” she says with a wink. I reach into my pocket and pull out a baggie, shaking it in front of her. That crystal white powder pulls her attention off me and to my hand. She licks her lips and looks back into my eyes.

  “What do you want me to do for that?” she asks nodding towards the baggie in my hand. I chuckle, reaching my free hand out to her, wrapping it around her waist. I drag her body against mine.

  “I think you know what I want,” I growl at her. She smiles up at me and nods her head. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. The need to dominate her and make her scream overwhelms me. Should I be ashamed that I’m about to fuck a junkie in the back alley behind a bar? Maybe, but I honestly don’t give a shit. I break the kiss and pull away from her. Reaching down, I grab a dirty piece of cardboard and shake it off, setting it on top of the dumpster. She watches me intently as I cut two lines. I pull a twenty out of my pocket and roll it tightly, passing it to her.

  “Ladies first.” She smiles up at me and takes it. I watch her lean in and hold it up to her nose. Watching her snort the entire line at once, my dick hardens in my jeans. Something about this girl is dangerous. I can feel it deep in my bones. She stands up straight, sniffing and blinking up at me. She smiles and passes the twenty back to me. I snort my line, shove the money back in my pocket, and pull a condom out.

  “You give a shit we’re outside?” I ask her. I don’t care where we are. I’ll fuck her here, in the bathroom, or on the bar counter. Doesn’t matter to me. Apparently, it doesn’t matter to her either. She kicks off her boots, slides her skirt down her legs, along with her panties, and grins up at me again. I chuckle, pulling my jeans down quickly and rolling the condom on. She watches me with wide eyes as I stroke myself in front of her.

  “You like what you see?” I ask her on a groan. Her eyes don’t move. She’s fixated on my cock and what’s about to happen. With yet another chuckle, I move closer still. Lifting her in my arms, she wraps her legs around my waist. I don’t mess around, I don’t play with her to see if she’s wet either. I reach between us and shove into her in one thrust. The girl moves her arms to my waist and hangs on tight.

  “Shit baby,” I growl in her ear. “Fuckin’ tight for a little whore.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, she clenches on my dick. I pull out and thrust back into her. She cries out and holds on, but I can tell she fucking loves it.

  “You like it when I call you a whore?” I grit my teeth and ask her.

  “Yes,” she moans as I fuck her against the brick wall of the bar. Her back will no doubt have scratches, but I don’t give a shit. She isn’t my concern. Rolling my hips I shove even deeper into her. Her nails dig into my skin as I lean down and kiss her neck. The more of her I feel, the more I want to wreck her little body. I fuck her roughly, my hips increasing their pace. It’s almost funny that this little girl is keeping up with me while on the high of her life.

  “Goddamn!” she screams when I bite into her neck. I chuckle against her as her pussy clenches even tighter around me.

  “You gonna come already, slut?” I ask her. Her nails dig in harder and her body tenses. “You like that? Slut. Fuckin’ whore,” I snarl in her ear.

  She loses all control then. She comes violently, yelling for me. “Satan! Fuck me Satan!”

  I can’t hold out any longer. I come right behind her, letting everything I have burst into her. Her muscles clench, sucking the fucking life out of me as I lower my head to her shoulder. “Goddamn baby. Never had a bitch that liked to be called a whore before,” I whisper while trying to catch my breath.

  “That’s because you’ve never fucked me before.” We both suck in some much-needed air. I pull out and let her slide to the ground. She slides down the wall and falls to her ass right here in the dirty ass alley. I shake my head and toss the condom into the dumpster before pulling my jeans back up. She sits in a daze, gazing up at the stars.

  “Thanks for that,” she finally says. I cock my head to the side and study her. She’s a strange girl, that’s for damn sure.

&nb
sp; “Anytime, sweetheart.” I turn to walk away when I hear her say, “Nice to see you again, Satan.”

  4

  Whitley

  “You didn’t come home last night,” Jackson says, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Protective much are we?” I tease him as I roll across the bed and motion for him to come and join me. He huffs but joins me anyway. Jackson is my roommate. He’s been a good friend to me since I first landed on the streets. He picked me up on a corner one day, where in my passed out state I was close to being raped, and brought me home with him. At first I thought he just wanted to have sex with me, and I was okay with giving it to him too, as sex is its own drug. I can use my body to numb out all the other shit going on. I hate the nightmares. All of it disappears when I’m fucking someone, but Jackson was always different. He’s a little fucked up in the head just like I am. We just, clicked. Do we fuck? Well, of fucking course we do, but not as boyfriend and girlfriend. Jackson doesn’t do the whole relationship thing and neither do I, but a fuck buddy? Yeah, that I can handle.

  “You know it. Where the hell were you? I got worried about you, bitch,” he says pulling me into his arms and hugging me tightly.

  “Well, I was out with Brian and that shit head decided to overdose on me. Then, Megan and her hoard of goons showed up. Can you believe that bitch tried to have one of her goons come after me? I almost lost my shit and went all Chuck Norris on their asses.” Jackson laughs before kissing the top of my head.