One Ride (The Hellions Ride)

by Camaron, Chelsea

  Frisco reaches me first. He’s short compared to the others, about five, eight. He’s trim and handsome. For a biker, he’s clean cut. His tattoos aren’t visible unless he removes his shirt. He has salt and pepper hair and eyes so dark, I could almost swear they were black. For a man in his late fifties, he’s still handsome. He’s one of the few Hellions that could play the part of a suit easily. Although, if you tell him that, he will laugh in your face and say, “Not even in my casket will I wear a damn suit.” Frisco smiles down at me, his dimples lighting up his face as he hugs me. He hugs Sass, as she’s still staring at Tank.

  Frisco moves to the back wall of my office, beside the door to my dad’s private office. When you walk in the front door, it leads to an open space with four chairs, two on each side of the door and my desk lined to the right wall, but facing the door. I have file cabinets on the wall behind my desk and then, an office door that leads to a bathroom and my dad’s private office. Tank moves to sit in a front chair.

  Danza hugs me quickly before reaching over to Sass. He hugs her as he growls, “Stop with your attitude toward Tank. Shit’s real serious Sass. You’ve been killin’ him with your eyes since we walked in the door. I’ve had enough.” With that, my best friend’s face softens and she moves to sit against my desk.

  For once, my dad didn’t enter and greet me, rather, he stares. An awkward silence encompasses the room. Tripp and Rex are standing in the doorway by the chair Tank is occupying.

  “Doll, you remember Tripp?” My dad asks, pointing to the man of my recent dreams. Damn, I’ve had his name wrong this whole time. Definitely should’ve paid better attention at the barbeque introductions. Being the flirt that I am, I step forward and once again extend my hand to Tripp, as he shakes my hand, I step closer so I can pull him to me.

  “He’s one that’s hard to forget.” I say as I pull his shoulder down to kiss him on the cheek. The charge zings through my body at the touch of my lips to his cheek. I step back and move to shake hands with Rex. All the greetings now complete, my dad is still eerily silent.

  “Is someone going to tell me why the hell y’all are taking up my office space?” My annoyance is now overtaking my patience.

  The more time I stand in close proximity of Tripp the more I want to inspect every detail of his naked body. I don’t want to get to know him. Hell, I’ve had a couple of battery operated initiated orgasms with his face in my mind, while calling out the wrong name. None of the details matter, what he can do for my body is what I want to know. If he’s not into me for sex, then, quite frankly, I want him to leave. He’s a distraction of the lust filled kind.

  “Sit down, Delilah.” My dad commands. He never uses my given name, I’ve been his doll my entire life. Shit.

  Doing as I am told, I back up and slide my butt up to be sitting on my desk. Bracing myself for serious news, I grip the edge of the desk and look down.

  “Big things are going on. You and Savannah are going to go on a ride for a few weeks.”

  “Huh?” I mutter.

  “Pack a small bag for the bikes, you and Sass are going on a ride with Tripp and Rex.” My dad states firmly.

  “Tripp and Rex? You’re sending us away? With them? Why exactly? We’ve never been sent away before. What the hell, Dad?” I ask as I hop off my desk and stand with my hands on my hips.

  “Roundman, why are they coming with us? Wouldn’t you rather Danza or Tank take them out of the area?” Tripp asks with that serious demeanor he always has.

  “No, I need Danza and Tank here. You two will take the girls.”

  “And what if we don’t want to go, Dad? What will you do then?” I ask with a firmness I’ve never had when addressing my dad before.

  Any other time a trip wouldn’t bother me. I know my dad is going to take this time to handle Delatorre, that’s not my issue with going away. This trip means days and nights with merely inches between Tripp and me on his bike.

  “Delilah, I don’t ask any fucking thing of you. This is my one request. Go away with Tripp on this ride. Have fun while you travel if that makes it better, but stay safe. Put your attitude away and listen to me and to Tripp. This is for you, my Doll. To keep you safe.”

  “I don’t want to go. Delatorre is an ass, but he won’t come to my house again, he’s bluffing.” I say, not really believing myself.

  “Damn it, Delilah! You. Will. Fucking. Go!” with that my dad stomps to his office.

  “Not negotiable, Sass, so shut your fucking trap before you even start.” Danza says, as his way of backing up what we already know. He follows my dad into the back office.

  Tank, Tripp, Frisco, and Rex follow Danza. Sass and I stand by my desk in disbelief of what just occurred.

  “Roundman, you’re sure ‘bout this?” I ask once we are in the privacy of his office. Of all the things he could ask of me, this is what I end up with. No fucking way. How do I say no? The office is small; only a desk, a chair, a safe, and two file cabinets are contained in the room. Having six grown men in the small space is cramped. Tension coursing through each of us is filling the room and sending everyone’s adrenaline into overdrive.

  “Are you fucking questioning me, Tripp? Because I know you’re not stupid enough to question me.” Roundman states, the tension is rolling off him in waves. The room is suddenly feeling even smaller.

  “I’m not questioning sending the girls on a ride. I thought you’d want me and Rex to work on Delatorre.”

  “No, I need our daughters kept safe. They’ve both got a knack for not only running their mouths, but also sticking their noses where they don’t belong. The last thing I need to worry about right now is Doll and Sass. I trust you and Rex to keep them safe. Tank here, would be too busy fucking Savannah to stay on task. As for the rest of us, those girls have us all wrapped around their little fingers, and won’t listen like they need to. They’ve gotta keep their mouths shut and stay out of trouble. You two are my best options.” Roundman says firmly, while Danza is giving Tank the death glare.

  Tank coughs at the mention of fucking Sass. Roundman is perceptive. Does he see the way his daughter winds me up? Every minute that ticks by, I feel the walls closing in. Danza has yet to remove his eyes from Tank.

  Pulling an envelope out of the drawer, Roundman walks over to me. Toe to toe, I stand taller than him, but he’s no less intimidating.

  “Keep them safe. Don’t fuck around, Tripp. She’s a beautiful girl. Hellion or not, you fuck over my kid, I will feed you your balls for breakfast. She’s off limits. Sass is off limits. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Taking the envelope, that I know is full of money, I hand it to Rex for safe keeping.

  Roundman is in his safe. He comes out with a sealed, letter sized envelope.

  “This stays on you Tripp, and only you. Map out your travels, head to Broadus, Montana. When you get to the Shifter’s compound, go see Dyson. You know the Shifter’s Pack. Keep yourself and those two broads in check. We’re fuckin’ good with ‘em, and we’re gonna stay fuckin’ good with ‘em. They’re a strong affiliate, and I don’t want any disrespect whatsoever between our clubs, understood? This envelope is important for the Blackout transport, and they’re expecting it.”

  “Got it.” I reply, what else is there to say?

  There’s a lot to this ride and it’s going to require every bit of my focus and attention to the details around us. Roundman sits behind his desk as we work with Tank on the details of our route. After two hours, everything is ready. We exit the small office to the front lobby. Leaving Tank to deal with a very pissed off Danza, a stressed out Roundman, and Frisco, who I have a feeling, may find Tank’s situation funny.

  “Alright, let’s go darlin’,” I say to Doll as I stride out the door of the building.

  One ride together. Go across the country and back. One ride to get her out of my system for good. One ride to keep her safe. Our one ride begins now.

  One Ride Begins

  My dad insists my car stay at the office. Hel
l, getting him to let me pack my own bag is about as much compromise as Roundman is willing to give. He wants me to let a prospect go pack my bag. Really? How could he want a fucking prospect all up in my panty drawer? That is so not happening. Now, I’m in the front of my office getting ready to ride bitch on Tripp’s bike. Butterflies are taking over my stomach. I’ve only ever ridden with my dad or driven myself.

  “Wait just a fucking minute.” I hear Tank roar, as he’s storming outside.

  My nervous energy is now full blown anxiety. Shit is going down. I’m in danger from a women beatin’ criminal. My dad is going to kill Delatorre, I know it. To add to that, Tank is storming around. And fucking great, Danza and my dad are close behind him, yelling.

  “Get your ass back in the office. I’m not done with you, Tank. You fuck her over, I’m gonna have your balls, mother fucker. That’s my daughter!” Danza yells, charging at Tank.

  Tank halts and turns to face Danza. “Let me say goodbye, then you can have my fucking balls, Danza.”

  Sass is standing there, helmet in hand, and a blank stare on her face. Tank pulls her into him. He’s tucked her into his chest with his chin resting on her head. I can hear him as he’s talking to her.

  “Savannah, don’t be sassy. This is serious. Stay safe, don’t run your mouth. This is all so you can come home.” And with that he releases her and walks quickly back into the office.

  Tears in her eyes, she looks over to her dad. His hard stance and face, letting his feelings on the situation be known.

  “It’s not like that, Daddy. Leave him alone. He’s my friend, that’s all. I promise you on everything I am, I’m not with one of the brothers, and especially not Tank.” Her voice is void of emotion, making it clear, she is done.

  Tank slumps slightly at her words. Does he have unspoken feelings? Or is it because Danza knows and will have his balls regardless?

  Her tone affirms her recent decision. My Savannah Mae “Sass” Perchton no longer wants the life we grew up in. I don’t know what that means for this ride. Hell, I don’t know what it means for the future. What I do know, is when my best friend looks her dad in the eyes and says Tank is just her friend, that’s the truth. Whatever feelings she may have had are gone. Whatever possibilities could have been, no longer exist. Tank is and always has been important to her. The opportunity of a future for them to build something together is gone. I have no doubts she cares for him, as he does for her. They both realize they can’t be together for different reasons and, on different terms, they have come to know and accept this.

  Danza shakes his head and runs his fingers through his long brown hair. In this moment, his age shows, the worry lines crease his brow, and the twinkle in his eye now full of distress.

  “Okay, Sass. I’ll let him be, on your word that there’s nothing there. Baby girl, listen to Tripp and Rex, stay outta trouble and keep your fucking mouth shut.” With that he turns around and goes back inside.

  My dad is leaning inside the doorframe watching me. I mouth the words, ‘I love you, Daddy’. He nods his head in acknowledgement. I put the half shell helmet on my head. Looking over, Savannah has dropped in behind Rex. Tripp is on his bike, engine started, the unique tick of the Harley Davidson engine rumbling all around me. He has no sissy bar. This is going to make for an even closer ride than I’m used to. I place my hand on his shoulder. He watches me intently as I swing my leg over and settle in behind him.

  My jean clad legs leave little wiggle room as I try to find my place. Typically, I could use the sissy bar to push back against and give myself some space. Having nothing but Tripp, I lean into him as I push my weight into my butt and downwards onto the foot pegs. I settle my hands gently on his hips. Apparently, he can sense my unease, or my weight differential is not comfortable to him because he grabs my hands one at a time and pulls me up against him. My chest now firmly against his back. My head is resting on his shoulder. My thighs wrapped tightly to him as the vibration of the bike radiates up my core. He’s brought my hands up to cradle his chest. I couldn’t get any closer if I wanted to. This is by far the most erotic moment I’ve had on a bike ever, and we haven’t moved yet.

  He releases the brake slowly and gently turns the throttle. With a calm and controlled thrust we take off out of the parking lot. The movement of his foot as he changes gears gives a slight shift of his leg. Each subtle change draws me into him more. As we accelerate, the bike comes to life beneath me. The wind against my face feels like wild abandonment. Even through my clothes, the bikes vibrations radiate to my core tingling through my body, making me aware of the freedom in this moment. The quiet around us as the miles go by. The steady rhythm of the bike is calming to my soul.

  I’ve ridden with my dad more times than I can count. I have my own Harley Davidson Sportster. Driving itself is liberating. It’s a feeling of fierce independence. Never in my life did I imagine anything feeling better than that. Until now. This is home, this is peace, and this is how it’s supposed to be.

  I’ve never had ol’ lady aspirations. I’m a Hellion, with or without being tied to a brother. In this moment, it’s not about being an ol’ lady; it’s about being one with your man, being one with the road, and being one with your bike. It’s about being one with the ride. This is a moment of clarity for me, as I realize why women want to be ol’ ladies. They have this one moment, where they have a connection, and later make a commitment. All to live for that one moment, one connection, one commitment, and one ride.

  Usually bitches are crawling all over me when they climb on my bike. Not Doll, she looks for a way to support herself. The bike we’re on is not mine; rather, it’s a club bike. Had I known Doll would be riding with me, I would’ve taken the time to install a sissy bar. We would still be close but at least she would have somewhere to rest her back.

  As she leans into the curves with me, it’s easy to get lost in the ride. Her arms wrapped around me, one of her hands tight against my heart. Her chest up against my back as the steady rise and fall of her breathing lets me know she’s relaxed and comfortable. The loud rumble of the engine, the power of the bike under me, and the softness of a woman behind me is all consuming. Life is not about the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away. This is one of those moments. For this one moment, everything feels right in a way that it never has before.

  Without thinking, I reach my left hand down and gently squeeze her thigh. Never before, have I felt the desire to connect with anyone. She relaxes further into me. Her left hand begins tracing circles over my heart. Every minute ticking by feels intimate in a way I’ve never experienced before. My chest constricts at the thought of being close to someone. I don’t live the lifestyle for that. Protect Doll, yes, I will. Beyond that, she’s off limits. Putting those thoughts back into perspective, I quickly remove my hand from her thigh and back to my handlebar.

  Feeling me tense and pull on the throttle to accelerate us further, Doll stills her hand and tightens behind me. She feels the sting of the rejection I just dished out. Perceptive, just like her father; I’ll be quick to remember that as well. I’ve got a job to do, and a very serious one at that. My boys rely on me to keep them safe and out of jail, given the nature of our business. For me, this task feels so much more, I can’t explain it, but on a deeper level, this ride feels like it’s everything.

  On Our Way

  At the condo, I stuff a backpack quickly. Knowing Tripp and I shared a moment on the bike, entices me to pack my pretty panties, just in case. Even if Tripp remains honorable to the fact that I’m Roundman’s daughter, I still deserve to feel sexy.

  Does the man have to be so honorable though? Seriously, I get it. I’m Roundman’s Doll. I’m so far off limits, I’m on another planet. It doesn’t mean I plan to make it easy for him. He’s hot. Any red blooded woman would want a sample of him. Daddy doesn’t need to know about one hookup.

  Knowing that Delatorre could already be watching me causes a moment of insecurity. I’m not naïve enou
gh to ever think the club was perfectly legitimate and safe. Never have I had someone follow me home though. Then again, I was raised to keep my nose out of other people’s business. My dumbass broke the cardinal rule of ‘turn your head and look the other way’. See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil. I saw it, spoke to it and watched it backhand a defenseless woman who looked like a stiff wind could blow her over.

  Some broad comes in all broken, I feel bad, and get involved. If it was another MC, I never would’ve given her a second thought. That would be their club business. But no, this Amy bitch comes along and I fall for her victim game. The Hellions are now in danger, a long term business deal long gone, and a shit load of people on lock down because I had a moment of kindness for a stranger. This is why good people don’t get involved. They get burned.

  My frustration is at its boiling point. Packing is relatively easy when you know you will be wearing jeans and a t-shirt every day. Heels aren’t made for a bike ride; therefore, they will remain in my closet. I did squeeze in one little black dress and one pair of flats in the event we get to go out. It’s springtime so I only need to pack basics. Fitting toiletries and clothes for an unknown amount of time into a backpack is not an easy task. Given the bike has no sissy bar, I have to fit what I need in a back pack to stay on me and in the two small saddlebags the bike has.

  Stepping outside, I look over at Sass, who is already settled behind Rex. Tripp is on his bike, his tattered jeans, black boots, t-shirt, and Hellions cut all add to the sex appeal that is undeniably him. His hands resting on the gas tank on top of his half shell helmet, his long hair is knotted low on the back of his neck, and a black bandana covers his head. Following his gaze, I see him focused on the ocean view that can be seen through the breezeway of our condo. From our balcony, the view is breathtaking. His face is tight showing he’s deep in thought; about what, I don’t know. While watching him, something deep inside of me yearns to know more about this man.