Simple Ride (Hellions Ride Book 6)

by Chelsea Camaron

  I hear her crying but refrain from moving to her.

  “Pamela, I need you to call the police,” I say calmly without going to her.

  She has truly seen me at my worst now. She knows what I am capable of. It’s over now. No turning back.

  I watch her sit on her knees on my floor and reach for her phone. She rattles off our situation and location to the dispatcher in a panic. The dispatcher must have asked her about me because she looks to me with tears rolling down her face and states perfectly, “No, I’m not in any danger anymore. Boomer saved me.”

  My chest aches with the pull to touch her, to hold her. I can’t, though. I took another man’s life. Regardless of the reason, I killed another man. I killed her husband. I killed the father of her children. She will never get beyond tonight.

  I don’t know if I will ever move on. I reacted. Did I react wrong? Would he really have killed Pamela? I guess we will never know. I wasn’t willing to risk it, though. I hesitated long enough for him to fire one round, and that was one round too many.

  My mind goes to the place I shouldn’t let it … What if Pamela hadn’t moved? What if the bullet had hit its mark?

  I stand still in the dark of my room with the woman who has captured my mind sitting huddled by my bed, crying while her husband bleeds out on my floor.

  Claim her, give her the protection of the club, and give her life with her kids—it was supposed to be simple. Only, now can it ever be? Will she forever be haunted by the events that happened right in front of her? Will she ever see me as the man who could bring her body to life and keep her safe? Or will I always be the killer who took out her husband?

  Bile builds in my throat, and I swallow hard not to puke. Man up, they always say. Boys are trained from a young age to steel their emotions. Don’t run and cry into your mom’s apron; be a man.

  Well, I don’t want to cry, and I have no remorse for the scumbag being dead, but I do feel bad that Pamela had to witness this side of me, the side that will do anything to protect the people who matter to me.

  I have lost enough in my life helplessly. Tonight, I wasn’t going to lose her at the hands of a dickhead.

  I am who I am. I have no regrets about using my skills to keep her alive for her boys. I just hope she can still accept me as I am.

  ~Pamela~

  The paramedics come in, and the body bag goes out, carrying Dennis. The police have taken our statements. Boomer is not being arrested right now, but he’s not to leave town without notifying them until the case is closed.

  Dennis is dead.

  The man who has been my source of torture, pain, and heartache for so many years is gone. I can go to my kids and no longer look over my shoulder.

  Elation runs through me. Then I look over to Boomer whose eyes are hiding a pain so deep.

  Guilt?

  Sorrow hits me like a punch to the gut. He took a man’s life to save mine. Does he feel bad?

  We are in his living room, and he keeps looking to his bedroom door, the room that may not have a body left in it, but still has the mess that shooting someone in the head leaves behind.

  Boomer doesn’t speak as the last of the patrol cars pulls out of the driveway. He moves to the room, his room, and I decide to give him space.

  When he emerges a little while later, he has showered and changed. No doubt, he wanted to feel clean. Even though he had to change and give his clothes to the police, he didn’t get to shower until now.

  I notice he has my bag in his hand.

  Well, this is it.

  I steel myself. My problems are over, so it’s time to send me packing. It’s okay. I can do this. I can get on the road and get to my kids. I have some money saved. Mom, my boys, and I can have a fresh start.

  All that together talk was Boomer’s way of supporting me while I was in trouble. Now it’s time to be on my own. I got into this mess on my own, and I will walk away alone. That is how it should be.

  I will forever treasure my time with him. Nathan ‘Boomer’ Vaughn has given me the best moments of my adult life outside of holding my children for the first time. He gave me little memories all for myself. Now it’s time to be ‘Mom’ again, and I need to focus my attention on Wesson and Colt, anyway.

  I don’t speak as he walks over and takes me by the hand. He guides us out without speaking and doesn’t bother locking his house.

  “Boomer, you should lock the door,” I remind him, thinking maybe tonight has been too much for him.

  “Honey, the only person stupid enough to break into the house of an Army Green Beret is your husband, and how did that work out for him?” His eyes grow wide, and his tone is sharp. “I’ve got nothing real valuable inside that house, because I live in the woods and know how to hide my valuables better than that. The gun I keep inside is now in a bag on its way to the police evidence locker. I have a side arm in the glove box of my truck.

  “We’re going to a hotel because we need to sleep, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like cleaning up the mess in my bedroom right now. My couch is shit, and the jackass broke the glass on my back door, so the house isn’t secure even if I do lock it. So let’s go get some sleep and tackle what happens next in the morning, okay?”

  “Sleep, as in, together? You’re staying with me?”

  “Unless you need space, yeah, we’re going to sleep. If you want more, that’s on you. With everything you’ve been through, you don’t have to, and that’s okay, too. Right now, I wanna take us to get some sleep so we can clear our heads safely then get you to your boys tomorrow.”

  My boys … tomorrow. With all the craziness and the many emotions running through me, this is the light at the end of a very dark tunnel. I can hold my boys tomorrow.

  “You’re gonna go with me?”

  His eyes flash with something I can’t read. “As long as you want me around, I’m there. If you want me gone, once I get you to them, I’m gone.”

  He makes it sound so simple. He killed a man protecting me, yet he is willing to walk away if I want him to.

  I put the back of my hand to my forehead. I don’t have a fever. I’m not delirious. I pinch my arm. I’m not dreaming.

  My husband is dead. Boomer gave me that escape, whether that was his original intention or not. Push came to shove, and it was save me or let Dennis shoot. Boomer chose me. Now, if I say the word, he walks away.

  I have never had control or power over my situation before. Boomer gives me that. If I want more, I can have it. If I don’t, he walks. Simple as that.

  “Come on, Pami. Let’s get out of here and try to get some sleep. You need your head clear to figure out your future.”

  I nod and follow him to his truck. We go to town and get a room at the local hotel. It’s nothing fancy, but it is a shower, a bed, and a place that doesn’t have remnants of my husband on the walls.

  I close my eyes and breathe deeply. One step at a time, I will get beyond this. It’s over. I can breathe. No more looking over my shoulder.

  Today is like a birthday. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. No matter how many times Dennis has hurt me over the years, I get to have my boys now. I get to have my life without him.

  My boys won’t live their lives worrying about their mom. They will get to have me with them every day.

  Tomorrow.

  I watch as Boomer cautiously moves around the room. He doesn’t touch me. He is giving me space. I need space. I need to process this.

  My husband is dead. The monster is gone. He can’t get to me.

  Boomer shrugs out of his jeans and T-shirt, stripping down to just his boxer briefs. Earlier, he wore sweats and a T-shirt to bed for my comfort. Since the hotel has two beds, I guess he assumes we are sleeping alone.

  I watch as the Hellions’ insignia tattoo on his back moves with him. His shoulder has a tattoo of a tombstone with a gun and soldier’s helmet.

  I fight my pull to run my fingers over each design covering his chest and, instead, move to
my bag and get my pajamas out. Okay, my oversized T-shirt that I love to sleep in since formal pajamas cost more than a clearance man’s shirt.

  Brushing my teeth, I try to make my mind stop spinning with thoughts of the future. I have to find a job, get a new place for my mom and boys. We are from Virginia; does Mom want to go back there? Do we start completely fresh somewhere?

  I hear Boomer shifting on the old bed, bringing me back to the moment.

  I finish cleaning up, thinking about the man in the room with me. If it wasn’t for the man in there, I wouldn’t be able to think of a future with my boys. No matter what happens, I owe my future to him.

  I will never forget that this man saved my life and gave me a future full of hope when I was in a hopeless situation. I will never forget that he made the sacrifice of himself and how he will handle the rest of his life knowing he killed a man. Whether defending me or not, I know it has to be weighing on him. He sacrificed that to keep me breathing for my boys.

  Without over-thinking, I crawl into the same bed as Boomer. In his arms, everything is finally right in my life.

  No matter what happens, he gave me that, too: simple security, simple moments of peace, even if they are brief. He has given me simple safety.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Boomer~

  I wasn’t expecting her to sleep with me, and having her in my arms is a double-edged sword. It cuts deep. I want to hold her close, but I need to let her go.

  I don’t think the reality has hit her yet.

  I killed her husband.

  Will that forever stand between us? I feel the urge to take off on my bike and ride again. I need to hit the open road and not look back. I need to get Pamela to her boys and let them build their lives without the shadow of Dennis Williams and his killer.

  I know I’m not going to be charged with anything. It was self-defense. All the justification in the world doesn’t change that her husband died by my hand, though.

  One shot, one kill, I have been trained. Take out any threat without hesitation. I am the machine I was built to be. There is no changing that. I need to accept all that I have done and find a way to make peace.

  In all these years, I haven’t found a way yet. One can only hope the day will come.

  A man shouldn’t feel all these emotions. We are taught that at a young age. Well, I feel every bit of the pain from taking a life. Regardless of Dennis Williams being a piece of shit, wife-beating asshole, I took away any possibility of change.

  Would Pamela have wanted him to change? Will she wake up one day and wish Dennis had the chance to right his wrongs? Will she hate me for taking any hope away?

  “Thinking awfully hard over there,” Pamela says, waking from the other bed.

  I have been up for hours, dressed, and sitting on the edge of the other full bed in the hotel. I didn’t want to wake her. Any sleep she can get, she needs to take. I’m sure the weight of everything will hit soon enough, and the memories will haunt her for who knows how long.

  “You wanna try to sleep a little more or hit the road to the coast?”

  She smiles at me, and I memorize this moment: her hair wild around her face, her brown eyes dancing in excitement, and a mother’s love shining in her features.

  “I’m ready to get to my boys.”

  “What the lady wants …” I try to smile at her.

  She looks down at the bedspread shyly. “You’re the only man who has ever treated me like a lady.”

  “Umm, Pamela, don’t twist who I am in your mind. Our relationship, or whatever the fuck you call it, hasn’t been about you being a lady and me being a gentleman.”

  “Boomer, half the Hellions treat barflies like hookers, but you never did that with me. You’re the only one who made sure I got mine”—she blushes, avoiding looking up—“before getting yours. You made sure I had dinner or breakfast. You made sure my car was running.” She waves her arm in the air dramatically. “Before everything came out, you treated me like I was normal and that we had something more than orgasms between us. You talked to me, Boomer. You cared about my day even if you weren’t getting laid that night. You randomly checked on me. You, Boomer Vaughn, treated me better than anyone has in my entire life.”

  “I’m no gentleman,” I remind her. Hello, I killed her husband less than twelve hours ago.

  “Yeah, Tripp says that, too, and Doll is over the moon happy and in love. Boomer, you give me something to believe in. You give me hope when I’m hopeless. I don’t know what the future holds, but I need you in my life.”

  I smile at her as her words soothe my insecurities. “What the lady wants …”

  “Good to know.” She winks. “Can we go to my boys now?”

  ***

  Haywood’s Landing is a small town not far off the Crystal Coast of North Carolina. With Croatan National Forest nearby and the closest actual city being ten minutes away, it is a perfect, little place for a group of bikers to have their club, their businesses, and keep their families safe.

  Roundman, Danza, Frisco, and Rocky really thought through all the details of building a brotherhood so many years ago. Not only have the Hellions supported each other through the good, the bad, and the times one of our brothers is locked up, they have created a family where blood isn’t thicker than water, but one where brotherhood comes before everything. They have created a brotherhood of total acceptance, a family where no one is ever alone, a safe haven for less than perfect people to feel like they can have hope for something real again. It’s simple: once a Hellion, always a Hellion, and we have each other’s backs. Whether you agree with a brother or not, you take his back, as he will yours.

  Family. We ride together, we die together.

  Our destination is a small, three bedroom, two bathroom doublewide not far from the compound. Ruben ‘Ruby’ Castillo and his wife Jenna ‘Vida’ Natera de Castillo de Natera have taken in Pamela’s mom and sons. I’m sure things are crowded since they have three kids of their own, but Vida is the perfect person to take in the boys and grandma. I don’t know them well, but I know they have been together since back when they lived in Mexico, and Jenna is a dedicated wife and mother.

  Pulling up, I sigh. This is it—time to let her go. If only it were that simple...

  “They have a black picket fence?” Pamela says, as if she doesn’t understand.

  I let out a small laugh. “Jenna, being from Mexico, always wanted a picket fence in her yard. Ruby gave her that. Then Jenna took over for Doll in the office when she got with Tripp, and after she befriended Doll and Sass, they said they weren’t white picket fence women, so they gave it a Hellions’ makeover and painted it black.”

  She giggles and sighs. “This is what normal is?”

  “I don’t know, honey. Never had normal.” I run my hand over my beard.

  “Black picket fences, I can handle that.”

  “Let’s go see your boys.” I hop out of the truck and make my way to the front to open her door; only, she is already out and coming to me.

  It’s time to give her … normal. Her new normal. Her safe normal. Pamela is going to have what she and her boys should have had years ago …

  A life together.

  ~Pamela~

  I make it to the bottom step of the front porch before my two boys barrel out the door and into my arms. I step back to take their weight as each one latches on.

  “Momma,” Wesson cries out, and it’s music to my ears and heaven in my heart.

  Full.

  For the first time in over a year, I feel full again with my boys in my arms and my mother’s tear-filled face looking over me. My family.

  Boomer stands behind me, giving us this time. My boys, my mom, and maybe one day, my man all around me. I can’t think about Boomer and the future with him right now, though. The two precious boys in my arms are my focus.

  “Momma, we have friends. Ms. Vida and Mr. Ruby, they have kids—two girls and a boy. We’ve been having fun. I don’t know why we left the ot
her house. Memaw hasn’t had to cook since we got here. Ms. Vida, she makes good food.”

  “A little hot,” Colt adds with a smile.

  “It’s still good, though.” Wesson nudges his brother as if he needs to get with the program.

  Colt tugs on my shirt. “Momma, Mr. Ruby and his brothers—well, they say that, but they don’t look nothin’ alike,” he rambles with his eyes wide. “They ride motor bikes. They are loud.” He smiles excitedly, and I feel a moment of peace. My boys seem untouched by the whole mess I have put them through.

  Tasting the salt of my own tears as they pass my lips, I inhale deeply. I have my boys back with me, and I don’t have to look over my shoulder. I don’t have to go to the gas station and buy a prepaid phone to make one random call after another. I don’t have to mail my mother cash in untracked envelopes, sending a prayer she will get them. I can simply be with my family.

  Relief consumes me from the bottom of my toes to the tippy top of my head. I can simply be.

  A beautiful, Hispanic woman with long, black hair braided and hanging over her shoulder comes to the doorway. “Please come inside.”

  I step into the doublewide, and immediately, the feeling of home washes over me. We enter into the living room, which has a brown sectional sofa with no tables, but a rug with streets to play cars on is in the middle of the floor. To the side of the entertainment center is a cube shelf thing with bins of toys. Looking beyond the living area is a bar that opens to the kitchen. The white countertops and wood cabinets are like every other manufactured home I have been in. What covers each cabinet door is what brings my heart joy.

  On each and every one is a drawing, painting, or school paper from her children.

  I can do this. In my next home, I can cover every available inch with pieces of my children. I don’t have to hide who I am anymore. Who we are doesn’t have to be a secret.

  “Vida,” I hear a man yell from another room, “I’m hungry.”