Originals Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (Hellions Ride Book 8) Read online

“Are you …? Are you …?” I can’t seem to get the words out as I choke on so many emotions. “Are you really sure? We can leave things alone, Clive. You take some time off then come back.”

  “Never been more sure of anything, Blaine. I’m leaving it in good hands.”

  California Kid

  Tommy and I talked. Until Clive gave us paperwork, and honestly, even after, we would treat things as business as usual. We didn’t save him to push him out of his shop. We did it because it was the right thing to do. Never leave a good man to struggle alone.

  The sound of a Harley pulling in not long after we opened the next morning causes Tommy and I both to go straight outside. After everyone came together to clean up the last mess, no way are we risking anything going down like that again.

  Hopefully, the boys from Fury MC aren’t stupid enough to come back here. If they are, Tommy and I both have our revolvers ready. The SBI kept the weapons from the other day, but we had more, so we aren’t empty-handed.

  Behind the bike rolls in Rhett in his rig. Without shutting it off, Rhett jumps out of the truck and heads over to the man on the Harley. They shake hands, and then Rhett points over to Tommy and me before the guy even dismounts.

  We make our way over to see a man with black hair slicked back and a goatee. He’s in a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and boots. Just like Tommy and me, a chain hangs on his side from his belt loop to his back pocket holding his wallet. The chain isn’t a statement like people think. It’s there so that, if our wallet slides up and out of our back pocket while we ride down the highway, we don’t lose it. The man’s saddlebags show wear; the bike obviously has some miles under it. Good to know.

  Rhett lifts his head to us. “Blaine, Tommy, this is the California kid, Richard Billings.”

  Richard extends his hand for us to shake.

  “Met him on the road back in Bama. Told him, if he made his way to Coastal Carolina, this was the best place to get his bike serviced.”

  “Thanks, man,” I say to Rhett who often meets people on the road and tells them, if they are ever in the area, to stop here for work. Rarely do we ever see them.

  “Need a new rear tire and oil change,” Richard says.

  “You affiliated with Fury?” Tommy asks with an edge to his voice.

  “Fury MC, as in the gang from Florida?”

  “Well, I don’t know. You tell me; how many Fury MC’s are there?” I give back, not liking that he’s avoiding the question.

  “Look, man, these fellas had a run-in with some boys from Fury. Can’t be too safe,” Rhett explains to Richard then looks at us. “Richard here is from San Fran. He’s got no affiliation. He rides where the road takes him.” Rhett pauses. “Alone.”

  Only then do I extend my hand and shake Richard’s. “Welcome to Haywood’s Landing, Frisco.”

  We all laugh as Richard raises his hands in the air, questioning the nickname.

  “Richard makes me think of Dick, and the only dick I wanna think about is the one in my pants as I’m in my woman,” I explain.

  “Amen, brother.” Tommy backs me up. “Well, Frisco, pull her in bay one, and we’ll get started to get you back on the road.”

  “Got a local haul. I’ll be back by this afternoon, guys. Frisco, stay for dinner; Mary Alice is making roast. I hate leftovers, so you’d be doing me a solid by eating. Y’all come, too, if you want. I’m sure Mary Alice would love to have Dia over.” He looks at Tommy with a smirk. “If you’re gonna make a go of things with Marie, then bring her on over, too. You know the girls gotta give their stamp of approval. Better sooner than later, Tommy.”

  Two hours later, we have two new tires on and have given Frisco’s bike a solid service. Good thing the man doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, because Tommy had to work on a Bel Air for a regular client, so it left me on the bike.

  Taking a break for lunch, we are all sitting on flipped over buckets in the bay area. Tommy lights up while I open my lunch from Dia and take a bite of my sandwich.

  “How long ago was the situation with Fury?” Frisco asks, and Tommy takes a deep drag off his smoke.

  “What’s it matter? They came. They were handled.”

  Frisco raises his hands in surrender. “Nothin’, man. Not tryin’ to upset you, Rocky.”

  Tommy raises an eyebrow at him.

  Frisco smiles with the whitest teeth standing out against the dark hair of his goatee. “Things are obviously rocky with us. Just trying to lighten it up, man.” Frisco looks at me. “Look, I get your reasons not to trust. I’m not with Fury, or any club for that matter. I’ve done a lot of traveling, seen a lot of clubs like Fury. Not all of them are about the bad stuff. Some are just a brotherhood of men takin’ each other’s backs.”

  “Really?” Tommy asks in a tone that seems hopeful.

  “From what I’ve seen, this won’t be the last you hear of Fury. They’ll be back. You gotta ask yourselves if you’re ready for that.”

  “Shit,” I say, putting my sandwich down, having suddenly lost my appetite.

  “They’re looking to move stuff through here. They aren’t going to simply ask once and move on. I’ve seen this in plenty of small towns. You’re off the radar, easy to get stuff passed through by car or by boat.”

  I didn’t think about any of that. He’s right, though. This probably isn’t the end of Fury MC.

  I look at Tommy and see the same thoughts are going through his head.

  “Well, Rocky,” I begin, “what the hell are we gonna do to keep our town safe?”

  He laughs at my calling him by Frisco’s nickname. “Well, brother, reckon we better have our own thing going on so we are more than a two-man show when they roll back in. Gotta show them ain’t no one coming to Haywood’s Landing to cause mayhem. No, any hell raisin’ going on here is controlled by us.”

  The three of us laugh. The situation is daunting, but we have to make light of it after everything that has happened, or we may just drown under the pressure. Together, we will keep Fury and men like them out of our town.

  Picking my sandwich back up, I feel okay again. “Yup, we control the chaos.”

  Hellions Ride

  One week later, Frisco, the California kid, is still in town. He spends his days helping at the shop and having dinner over at Rhett’s before crashing on his couch.

  Rocky and I are at the shop when four bikers pull up. The leather vests are all too familiar with the blue Fury flames and patches covering each one of them. Despite different sizes, different rides, and different sayings, each vest—or cut as they call it—is unique.

  With a tire iron in my hand, I step in front of the shop. The revolver at my back feels too far away, but I know Frisco and Rocky are inside, armed, and on their way to back me up.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, boy,” the first man to climb off his bike says, raising his hands high in the air. “Ain’t here for that kinda trouble, young buck.”

  Young buck, huh? I’m twenty-six years old, and in the last week, thanks to his club, I feel like I have aged well beyond a rational number.

  The other three men climb off their motorcycles, all with their hands raised. Good thing, too, because I’m in no mood for round fucking two.

  The men approach just as Frisco and Rocky flank me on either side with guns held high. The sound of a diesel engine approaching causes us all to pause.

  I fight back a laugh as Rhett comes hauling ass into the parking lot with his big rig. He turns at just the right moment to avoid hitting the bikes but blocking them in. As he locks the brakes and slides to a stop, dust flies around the chrome and leather, settling onto it.

  The tension in the air is thick, and I watch the men closely as they see Rhett climb out of his truck with his shotgun in hand.

  “Got shit to do, fellas, so you can find your way out of town,” I say to the group of men.

  “Just came to talk business. I’ve heard the shop has new owners. Well, we have a proposition for you,” the man tries.

  I st
and my ground. “Ain’t got time to listen to a damn thing any of you has to say.”

  “I think you fail to realize who is in control here,” he starts, and I raise the tire iron to shut him up.

  “I think you fail to realize where the hell you are. I’m no young buck. I’m a one shot, one kill, it only takes one round kinda man. You have two seconds to turn your asses around and head back to the shithole you came from before I put each of your names on a bullet and make sure to take you out with that single shot each. This is our town, and we don’t want none of the likes of you around here.”

  “Just think about it for a minute, son—”

  “I’m not your son,” I growl.

  “If we don’t do business through you, we’ll do it with someone else in town. Why don’t you be the one to make the profit?”

  “You are a crazy son of a bitch,” Frisco says as the man clearly doesn’t want to give up.

  “Take highway 24 on your way out and get back to the interstate or hit highway 58 to 17,” Rhett informs as he tosses his rifle to me, and I catch it right after I drop the tire iron. He doesn’t know about the revolver at my back, and now isn’t the time to tell him. “Either way you go don’t matter; it’s just your time to go.”

  The man in the back with a beard down to his belly turns to Rhett, dropping his hands. “Who the hell are you?”

  “The man giving you directions on how to get the hell home.”

  He moves to stand toe to toe with Rhett. “We ain’t done talkin’ to the young buck yet.”

  The man twists as if he’s reaching for something, and Rhett reacts, hitting him with a right hook to the jaw. Instantly, the man is knocked out.

  His buddy jumps into Rhett’s space, nailing him with a good one to the face and causing his nose to bleed. Rhett doesn’t hesitate in giving the guy a jab to the gut then an uppercut, making him stumble into his friends.

  Rhett then brings his hands up in a boxer’s stance, ready to keep going. Man number two throws his hands up in defeat, and man number one groans, coming to.

  “As you can see here,” I say to the largest man who has been in front of me the whole time, “we like how we have things now. Unless you want me to use the two bullets I got in this shotgun—one for you and one for your buddy beside ya—I suggest you get on your way.”

  “One round, one man, huh?”

  Irritation is reaching the point of becoming anger. “I’d say ask your brothers, but seeing as how they each took one shot and aren’t around anymore to tell ya about it, I reckon actions speak for themselves.”

  “Fury could use men like you,” he states calmly and honestly.

  I shake my head at him. “Not interested in your way of coming into people’s towns and trying to force them into your world.”

  The man laughs in my face, only making me grip the shotgun more tightly and wish he would give me a reason to blow his head off.

  “Brotherhood of your own making, huh?”

  “Yeah, we’re the Haywood’s Landing Hellions, and this is our town.”

  The two men Rhett fought back away from our group as they tap their brothers on the shoulders.

  “Send Watson to handle this. We have somewhere to be,” the bearded chump informs. “And locals are looking for us. Let’s go.”

  “Yeah, you got places to be, so go on so we can get back to work,” Rocky says, dismissing them.

  “This won’t be the last you see of us. We know how to find you, Reklinger.”

  The fact that he knows my name pisses me off. “Well, I would hope so since I’m in the same place you found us before. Ain’t leavin’.”

  The men back away, never turning their backs on us as Rocky, Frisco, Rhett, and I stand in our places at the ready if they decide to pull something.

  Anger rushes through me. How dare anyone think they can come to my town and control what goes on in my business?

  Their vibrations of their pipes echo off Rhett’s rig as they make the tight three-point turn to get out.

  Frisco is the first to move. He gives Rhett a playful shove to the shoulder. “Damn, Danza’s got moves.”

  “Huh?” Rhett questions, looking at us for answers.

  “He doesn’t get to watch much television. He doesn’t know about the guy on the TV show driving a taxi who is also a boxer,” Rocky explains.

  “Does he have good hair?” Rhett asks as he pretends to style his back.

  “Oh, definitely just like you, Danza,” I give him a hard time. “Moves and great hair. The ladies are just lining up.”

  “Okay, Roundman, ‘I’m gonna put your name on a bullet.’ ”

  We all laugh, but then the weight of the situation settles on each of us.

  “Fury isn’t going away easily,” Rocky is the first to state.

  “Then I guess they’ll have to learn this is how the Hellions ride,” I say with all the confidence in the world.

  Frisco looks at each of us. “Well, I haven’t stayed in one place this long in years. Looks like I might just have to dig myself some roots.” He smiles with his white teeth shining brightly. “Danza, that couch of yours has been nice, but you think Mary Alice could find me a place of my own?”

  “You serious?” Rhett asks happily.

  “Way I see it, I’ve spent enough time on the road, and Fury ain’t going away. If I’m gonna take a stand for something, I’ll stand for the Hellions in Haywood’s Landing, then.”

  We all nod, agreeing. Frisco fits in with our group of hell raisers. He may not be a local, but he stood with us today like he is one.

  For the first time since Fury rode in on Clive, things finally feel right again.

  Yes, Haywood’s Landing is our town. Anyone who wants to come here and try to control it will learn all about the Hellions.

  Today, the Haywood’s Landing Hellions have been born. It comes out of necessity, but the bond between us is still one of brotherhood, and together, we will stand strong against anyone who chooses to cross us.

  Control The Chaos

  ~Roundman~

  Two months go by, and Paul Watson has been out of town the entire time. Quiet, things are too quiet. Rocky, Danza, Frisco, and I don’t believe it.

  In the meantime, the Hellions have formed. We don’t ride alone, and together, we are determined to keep Fury out of our town.

  In all of Frisco’s travels, the man made connections, the kind that gave Danza the idea of changing his business runs. With his office inside ours, we get to stay close and monitor what is moving through Haywood’s Landing. With Frisco now at his back, Danza is no longer on the road alone, which Mary Alice appreciates.

  Business has been good for Rocky and me. He’s expanded to doing some custom rods and restoration projects that involve fabrication and not regular mechanics. I’ve been able to get a few more bikes rolling through, which is what I prefer to do. Add in the clients Clive has had for years, and we are making this work.

  Little by little, the four of us have found our way of controlling the chaos that crashed into our small town. Still, I want a piece of Paul Watson. His day is coming.

  Lying in bed on a lazy Sunday with Dia’s naked body draped over mine—nothing tops this. Absolutely nothing. I trace my middle fingertip up her spine and back down all the way through the crack of her plump ass. She moans groggily against me. My morning wood only gets harder at the feel of her scissoring her legs over me.

  “Gonna marry me today?” I ask, to which she kisses my chest before her blue eyes meet mine. “Gonna go to bed tonight as Claudia Reklinger?”

  “Every night from tonight until the day I die, Blaine, I’m going to be Mrs. Reklinger.”

  I smile at her. “Has a nice ring to it.” I massage her ass with my left hand while I tweak her nipple with my right.

  She slides the sheet off both of us and moves to straddle me. When she sits straight up, her nipples poke out in the air as my erection stands up against the crack of her ass, wanting in her heat.

  I l
ean over to the nightstand and pull out the small box I tucked away in there yesterday. “Got you a gift.”

  She bites her bottom lip as I set the small box on my chest then move my hand down to her golden curls between her legs. Pushing my thumb between her lips, I stroke her, applying a bit of pressure to her bud so I can feel her juices mix in my pubic hair and skin. She rocks against my thumb, getting us both wet with her arousal.

  “Gonna open it or you gonna ride my hand?” I ask as I feel my dick pulse with need to be in her.

  “Both,” she says in a heady whisper as she keeps her rhythm and lifts the box.

  Shifting my hand, I have two fingers sliding through her lips as she continues to grind against them.

  I watch the smile on her face grow as she looks into the box.

  “Mary Alice said you hated the something blue tradition. She said y’all went everywhere, looking for sapphires earrings so blue they looked black.”

  She stops her hips and nods.

  “Took a run with Danza yesterday. Stopped off in Raleigh at the big store and found these. You gonna wear ’em when you become my wife?”

  Carefully, she moves the box containing the earrings to the table. Her tits are in my face as she does so, and I take full advantage, putting one in my mouth as I play with the other. She laughs and moans as the sensations hit her.

  Without speaking, she moves back, causing me to sit up as to not lose her nipple my tongue currently circles.

  She strokes my dick as she positions it at her opening then slides down, taking me all the way to the hilt. The feel of her muscles gripping me has me releasing my mouth and throwing my head back in ecstasy.

  “Blaine Reklinger, how did I get so lucky? Got a man who takes my back. Got a man who provides, protects, and keeps his promises. Got a man who goes out of his way to give me good. Sugar, your woman is gonna give you good now.” A devilish smile plays on her plump lips as she slides up then rolls her hips on the way down my shaft as her walls contract around me.

  She moves her hands high up in her hair as her tits bounce freely. She rides me and doesn’t hold anything back.