Bullet: Devil's Rose MC #5

Chapter 4: Mason Ohara

It's been a couple of hours since I made Piper cry. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't know what to fucking do. I'm so fucking confused all the goddamn time, and it drives me fucking crazy. 

Why the fuck couldn't I have just had a normal childhood with two loving and adoring parents who taught me shit like apologizing? I'm a thirty-three-year-old who doesn't know how to fucking apologize after making someone cry. 

What the fuck is that? I've never had to before, at least not for something as extreme as this.

I am going to be honest and say that I don't fully understand why it's so extreme. I know I kicked her out of the gym and I know I said shitty things, but I have no idea why Piper began to cry. 

There has got to be more to the story than just Piper not being able to execute a correct punch. A behind-the-scenes issue. Maybe it has something to do with her medical condition/trauma or whatever. 

Everyone has been telling me to go light on her, but I don't know what to do. I've been in complex situations before but nothing close to this. Dealing with women, more specifically women who aren't around me for sex, is an experience I've never been well-versed in.

When I'm on the same page with a woman who just wants sex out of me and doesn't have to deal with me any more than that one-night stand, I'm good with that. I have no issues flirting and whatnot, but Piper is something else entirely. 

She's not asking for anything besides being trained by me, and I am clueless on how to handle her delicacy and the situations and experiences she has had in the past. I usually never have to deal with this kind of stuff, so it's not my wheelhouse. 

Is this why I've been given the babysitter job? I don't even fucking know.

"Bullet. We have a run. Let's go."

Bear's usually not as harsh or direct about his words, so for him to be so short with me, something is wrong. Whether it's me or the reason we're going on a run, that's a whole other topic to discuss. We haven't had a lot of MC problems in a while which isn't uncommon. 

After we take down a large gang or organization such as Claws', other organizations lay low on their illegal activities for a bit. However, that whole debacle happened about two years ago, so it's quite surprising that we haven't had any runs in the last six or seven months. 

Two years is quite a long time between larger runs. I wonder what was going on at the other, criminal end.

No words are spoken between us as I stand out of my office chair where Alpha had me writing workouts for present and future prospects. I hope he has something for me to shoot today, I need it. 

I throw on my cut with my leather jacket, brush my hair out of my face, and get my gear and weapons ready to go along with my brothers. Slasher, Vegas, and Tank all stand next to me as they load themselves up. I can hear Poison's laughter of amusement while he realizes he'll be using his technology skills with Scout for a task other than watching tapes.

He's so fucking easy to please.

I load myself into one of the large, black, and bulletproof SUVs, double-checking that my gun is ready. It's a Barrett Mk22 MOD 0 Advanced Sniper Rifle, but I only use it for runs when Alpha tells me to. I'm good with any type of gun. I was handed an old Browning Auto-5 Light Twelve 12 Gauge by my grandfather when I was ten. 

I've been handling guns ever since. I've never had a problem when it's come to shooting a gun as long as I knew in my gut I was shooting the right person for the right reason or reasons. We don't get much of that these days. Some people think guns are toys, they aren't, they're tools. They're tools to be regulated.

But that's a whole other topic of conversation.

I rarely miss my mark either. I got my Devil's Rose MC name because of that. When I was a prospect, another MC had tried to break in and steal some of our weapons and shit. I was on duty with a now retired member, Thunderstruck, and he quickly geared us both up with what guns he thought were best. 

Trying to scare them out didn't work, so violence was used, and I shot from all the guns that I needed without missing my mark once. Each person only took one bullet. That's how I got the name Bullet. To clarify, two were kill shots, the rest of the men were going to live but with a scar as a reminder.

So now, I'm the resident sharpshooter. The other guys are good but not as good as me.

"What's going on, Reaper?"

"Blue Moon Riders have decided to move into Claws' last place."

"Oh, fuck. That's not good."

"Thank you for stating the fucking obvious. Fuck, Bullet. You're lucky I'm not mad at you like everyone else is."

"Everyone is mad at me?"

"Fucking hell. You made Piper cry. Of course, everyone is fucking pissed. We'll talk about that later though."

"Who am I aiming for?"

"Anyone shooting at us, dumbass."

"Kill shots? If I get the chance?"

"Only if necessary."

"Got it. But back to Piper. Everyone's mad? All the ladies?"

"This is the last I'm gonna fucking say about it until this bullshit Blue Moon Riders shit is over. All the fucking ladies want to rip your dick off. It's been fucking threatened multiple times."

"That's not fucking good."

"Are you gonna fucking say that every time somethin' shitty happens?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"I have to deal with these fucking dumbasses when I could be with my wife. I'm pissed."

"You always want to be with her."

"Yes."

Sensing that he's done talking to me, I make myself busy and adjust my earpiece. I hear a beeping in my ear as it begins connecting with the technical setup that Poison is behind. Before I get a chance to prepare myself, I hear the annoying voice of Poison. Gosh, as much as he can annoy the hell out of me, I'm pretty sure he's my best friend. 

When I first came to the Devil's Rose MC - we came around the same time (well he came back) - we instantly clicked. There was just something about him that made me feel comfortable. After being stuck living a lie my entire life, pretending that the abuse at home wasn't happening, he was the first person I felt okay being who I truly was with. That's still true to this day.

He's one of the few people I trust to tell me if someone was on their way to kill me.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you."

"Are you focusing on your job for tonight?"

"Gradually. How far out are we?"

"Ten more minutes and then you'll arrive. I suggest taking the back entrance. There's a ledge up the steps right around the corner with a good view of the warehouse below."

"Where are my blind spots?"

"Around your person, obviously, and a couple of rooms down hallways."

"Can I shoot before they can get down the hallway?"

"Yes, you'll have space and a view."

"Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Nope."

I release a breath, feeling the tight pressure in my chest slowly loosen. Normally, I don't give that much of a shit about my life. I don't care about coming home after a run, that's never been my top priority. I have just wanted to get the job done, but something is different this time around. 

I have people to babysit now, and I know Piper is counting on me, whether she likes it or not. I'm the only one who doesn't care enough about her health to let her train.

For the first time, I actually care about being alive after this.